Catch Me When I Fall

by Nicci French

  ‘This is a scandal,’ I said. ‘I’m going to make a complaint.’

  Dr Thorne stood up in some alarm. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Look. I can’t talk about the details of Miss Krauss’s case. You can discuss it with her yourself.’

  ‘She’s not in a state to discuss anything.’

  ‘That’ll be the anaesthetic or the muscle relaxant. It’s nothing to do with the ECT.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve given her this extreme treatment. It’s medieval.’

  ‘It’s not in the least extreme,’ said Dr Thorne. ‘All you know about it probably comes from old movies. I promise you it’s nothing like that. It’s a safe procedure. We give it to pregnant women in preference to medication. We give it to geriatric patients almost as a matter of course.’

  ‘You’re electrocuting her brain,’ I said.

  He smiled at that. ‘Strictly speaking, “electrocuting” means to kill with electricity.’

  ‘Don’t play with words. What will it do to her brain?’

  ‘Some patients report a degree of memory loss,’ he said, ‘but it’s usually recovered. The main point is that it is an effective treatment. And in certain patients it can be crucial.’

  ‘You mean severely ill patients?’

  He looked uneasy. ‘For example, it is almost indispensable in cases where a patient might be considered to be at imminent risk.’

  ‘Do you mean that Holly was suicidal?’

  He gave a gesture of helplessness. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘That’s off-limits. All I can say is that you’re her friend. You know her. You know what she’s been through.’

  ‘This is mad,’ I said. ‘Ridiculous. She’s not severely ill. She was getting so much better. I can’t believe that this has suddenly happened now. She told me. She said she wanted to live. She won’t try again. I know.’

  Dr Thorne was not to be drawn. He sat down again. Clearly our interview was over.

  ∗

  When I got back to the ward, Charlie was there and Holly was properly awake. She smiled weakly when she saw me.

  ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘It’s a bit fuzzy,’ she said. ‘Woozy. Dizzy. Words with Z in them keep coming into my, er, you know.’

  I felt it was my duty to be cheerful about it, at least with Holly.

  ‘I talked to Dr Thorne,’ I said. ‘He was very positive about it.’

  ‘I was a bit, you know… about it. Sort of Cuckoo’s Nest. Thought you’d come in and find me with a scar on my shaved head. Put a pillow over my face.’

  She still made me laugh. I stroked her face. ‘You look well,’ I said.

  We talked for a while, although it was a disjointed conversation. Charlie hovered in the background, not joining in. He fetched coffee for us, fussed with the bed and arranged Holly’s things. I felt so sorry for him. He’d spent so much of the past year being a spectator at the Great Holly Show and now he was having to be a nurse as well. I wondered if he resented my presence or whether it was a relief. I looked at my watch and remembered I had a life to lead elsewhere. But I wanted to talk to Charlie first. I nodded at him to follow me away from the bed. We paused in the corridor outside the ward. It was busy with trolleys, nurses, a party of fresh-faced medical students in their white coats. I told Charlie how surprised I’d been. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘It was a difficult decision. But Dr Thorne said it would be for the best.’

  ‘I don’t just mean that,’ I said. ‘He was irritatingly discreet with me. But from what he said it sounded as if he thought Holly was still suicidal.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘Yes?’ said Charlie.

  ‘But she isn’t.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Meg? Are you blind or what? What do you think she’s doing here? She died in the ambulance. It’s a miracle they got her back.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ I said. ‘But she’s different now. She told me. She said she had discovered she wanted to live.’

  Charlie shook his head. ‘I wish it were like that. Maybe with you she’s still putting on her cheerful-Holly act. With me, it’s not like that. She still talks of suicide. She dwells on it. Dr Thorne says that that’s a key risk factor.’

  ‘Has she talked about it to him?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘She’s talked about it to me and I’ve talked to Dr Thorne. Does it matter?’

  ‘It just seems so very different from the way she’s been with me.’

  He looked at me sharply, with narrowed eyes. I was worried that I’d offended him. ‘You know Holly, the great pretender. But even with you she talked about you putting a pillow over her face.’

  ‘That was just a joke.’

  ‘Who the hell are you to say whether it’s a joke or not?’ he said.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, startled by Charlie’s sudden anger. ‘Let’s not argue. We’re both on the same side.’

  ‘I know. I’m letting it get to me. It’s all been exhausting.’

  ‘It must have been,’ I said.

  ‘You know what, Meg? I used to worry what people would do to Holly. Now it’s what she’ll do to herself. Sometimes I feel I’ve lost her. I think what she wants is to die. If that’s true, I don’t know what any of us can do to stop it.’

  33

  The day before Holly came home, I arrived at her house with flowers, only to find it full of extravagant vases of lilies and winter roses that made my small bunch of anemones seem futile. The place was bustling with people. Charlie’s mother had just arrived, and was sitting on the sofa, plump and relaxed, smoking a menthol cigarette, while Holly’s mother banged pans in the kitchen. Charlie was hanging decorations on an asymmetrical Christmas tree, and Naomi was in the last stages of painting Holly and Charlie’s bedroom a soft green. ‘We thought we’d give her a surprise,’ she said, grinning down at me from the step-ladder, a smudge of paint on her cheek.

  I felt a stab of childish jealousy. ‘You should have told me. I would have helped.’

  ‘I know how busy you are and, anyway, I like decorating,’ said Naomi. She laid her brush carefully on the lid of the paint can. ‘Do you fancy a cup of tea? There’s some ginger cake I made as well.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ I said shortly. ‘I can’t stop.’

  I didn’t go round the next day. I thought she’d need to get settled in first. But in the evening, as I was on my way home, my mobile rang and it was her. She told me that everyone was being very attentive and then she snorted derisively and my spirits rose. ‘It’s a real pain,’ she said. ‘The two mothers aren’t on speaking terms. Charlie’s trying so hard to please everybody he’s like a dog running between owners. Can you come round? Please!’

  ‘Now, you mean?’

  ‘They wouldn’t let you in. I’ve got to get my rest, apparently. It’s enough to send me mad, except of course I’m mad already. Come tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t know if it’s–’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘All right, then. What time?’

  ‘Come for lunch.’

  ‘I’ll bring something.’

  ‘Don’t you dare. The kitchen’s groaning with food. Everyone’s making fucking soup. I know, bring that Todd of yours. It’s Saturday, after all.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Don’t you go treating me like an invalid too. I want to meet him, see if he’s good enough.’

  ‘Don’t–’

  ‘Don’t what? Be rude to him? Me? Don’t worry. The pills won’t let me.’

  I hadn’t been going to say that. I’d been going to say, ‘Don’t steal him.’

  We arrived at midday. Charlie opened the door and hugged me, then shook Todd firmly by the hand. He was wearing an apron and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. There were even more flowers, and get-well cards everywhere, and the Christmas-tree lights were turned on. The house smelt of fresh paint.

  I’d expected Holly to be in bed, but she was sitting on the sofa, dressed in old jeans and a flecked, turtle-neck jumper whose sleeve
s came down over her hands. Her hair was in plaits, and her face bare of makeup. She looked about twelve, and very pale, fragile and sweet. She made me feel huge and clumsy, and I bent down to kiss her cheek carefully. But she put both arms round me and hugged me hard. ‘I won’t break, you know,’ she said. ‘I’m a tough old bird.’

  She stood up and held out her hand to Todd. ‘I think I was a bit rude when we met before,’ she said, ‘but I’ve been informed that was a symptom of mental illness. Can we start again?’

  ‘I’d like that,’ said Todd, taking her hand awkwardly. ‘I’m glad you’re better.’

  ‘It all feels a bit like a dream now. Especially since no one in this house mentions it.’ She lowered her voice to a melodramatic whisper. ‘Dying, I mean. Trying to die. Or being manic-depressive, as a matter of fact. They just say, “your illness”, or “what happened to you”, stuff like that. That’s why I so badly needed Meg to come round. You know what Meg’s like, so…’

  She searched for a word. I sat glumly on the chair opposite her and waited for her to say ‘solid’ or ‘safe’ or ‘comforting’.

  ‘So true,’ said Holly, at last. ‘We’ve got about twenty precious minutes before Charlie’s mother comes back from the supermarket and my mother comes back from whatever mischief she’s been up to. God, I wish Christmas was over. It would have been safer to let me stay in hospital until the New Year. Meg, why are you looking at me like that?’

  ‘I’m trying to find new ways of asking how you are,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Holly. ‘I’m not going to try and kill myself again. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about myself. I’m fed up with the subject. Tell me about the office. Give me some gossip. Anything.’

  I had wanted to tell her about Rees, and about the end of her gambling debts, but now wasn’t the time, not with Charlie in the kitchen and Todd looking awkward and willing opposite me, and Holly gabbling like a nervous child. I suddenly felt tired out.

  We talked about trivial, lighthearted things. Then she asked me if I’d help her find a Christmas present for Charlie. ‘Though I can’t think what to give him,’ she said. ‘Charlie’s the kind of man who doesn’t want anything.’ Suddenly she seemed depressed. She turned to Todd. ‘What would you give him?’

  ‘Well… I’ve no idea. What about something to do with his work?’

  ‘I don’t think he works any longer. I don’t think he’s worked since I went officially mad. And not much before that. He keeps telling me it’s not important at the moment, that there are other things to sort out first.’

  ‘He’s right,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t want him to sort me out. That’s my job now. I want him to work. He’s good at what he does. Really good. You’ve seen it. When I first met him, I was convinced he could be great. But then I was convinced that I could be great as well. We can’t just lock ourselves into our house and not work and drink fucking soup and eat Naomi’s ginger cake and forget about the outside world, can we?’

  ‘Maybe not,’ I agreed, thinking that perhaps now was the time to tell her about the money.

  ‘How about a dressing-gown?’ said Todd.

  Holly brightened. ‘That’s a good idea. That’s what I’ll get for him. You’re brilliant, Todd.’

  ‘He’s nice,’ she whispered, when Todd went to the lavatory.

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I mean, I’m glad you think so, but there are things I need to talk to you about.’

  ‘Let’s have a walk later. I’ve got to get out of here for a bit.’

  At lunch Holly fell silent and Charlie kept jumping up and doing unnecessary things at the sink, clattering dishes noisily. The rest of us talked about the possibility of snow and about winter weather, stretching out the topic for far too long. I said something about there being places in the Arctic where you could throw boiling water into the air and it would freeze before it hit the ground, and Todd launched gallantly into a story about skiing in Norway when it was minus twenty-five and his eyelashes froze and icicles formed in his nostrils. I looked across at Holly, fearful that she might say something sarcastic. She looked at me, and there was just the tiniest hint of a raised eyebrow but she remained silent.

  The doorbell rang and I saw Holly flinch. I realized that all the time she was sick with apprehension about who might turn up, and I longed to reach over and comfort her. She remained tense until Charlie returned with Naomi, who plonked herself down next to Anthea Carter, his mother, and greeted everyone like family. We all had coffee. Anthea kept dunking chocolate digestive biscuits into hers and losing soggy chunks, fishing them out with her teaspoon and slurping them loudly. She’d had two tankards of wheat beer with her lunch and was decidedly mellow.

  Naomi poured milk into her coffee, then a small dribble into Charlie’s. Just the amount he liked. Such a trivial thing, but the domestic intimacy jolted me. I stared across at them and saw Charlie slide a glance towards Naomi who looked briefly back at him, before turning away again, demure and bright-eyed.

  They’re having an affair, I thought. Holly was right after all. She just suspected the wrong woman. Poor Holly. Poor Holly, poor Charlie, poor all of us. Suddenly it felt almost indecent that we were all sitting round the table like this, chatting, smiling, cheating, lying.

  Holly stood up, pushing back her chair with a squeal across the floor. ‘I’m going for a walk with Meg and Todd,’ she announced.

  ‘Are you sure that’s–’

  ‘Quite sure.’

  ‘Do you want me to come?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘You stay here. Have a bit of time to yourself, for a change.’

  ‘Wrap up well, then.’

  He put her coat on for her, buttoning her into it and tying a bright scarf round her neck. She tilted her face towards him but he avoided her lips and kissed her cheek, as if she was a sick child.

  Tactfully Todd dropped us off at the park. It was bitterly cold, with a stinging wind, but Holly didn’t seem to mind. And at last I told her that I’d visited Cowden Brothers and that she didn’t have to worry any more.

  ‘They just cancelled the debt?’ asked Holly, doubtfully.

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ I said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I explained that you’d not been yourself on the evening and–’

  ‘Meg, this is me, Holly. Remember? I’m not a complete idiot and, anyway, I know when you’re not telling the truth. You have this funny little furrow between your eyebrows.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry,’ I said. ‘You’re safe now. You can concentrate on getting better.’

  ‘You paid it.’

  ‘It’s not important.’

  ‘You paid the debt, didn’t you? Didn’t you?’

  ‘Kind of,’ I mumbled.

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Just what you owed.’

  ‘Fucking how much, Meg? Tell me.’ She clutched my arm so that I had to stop walking.

  ‘Twelve thousand,’ I lied.

  She closed her eyes. I could see she was doing some mental arithmetic. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Tell me the real figure.’

  ‘Sixteen.’

  ‘Oh, my God, Meg.’

  ‘The meter was running,’ I said. ‘It would have been even more by now if–’

  ‘You paid all that?’

  ‘I only did what you would have done in my place.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I don’t want you to thank me.’

  ‘I’m not going to thank you. I’m going to shout at you, you imbecile! What did you think you were up to?’ She raised her fist as if she would punch me in the face, but burst into tears instead.

  I hesitated, then put my arms round her while people flowed past us. ‘You would have done it for me,’ I repeated.

  ‘Where did you get the money?’ she sobbed.

  ‘Here and there.’

  ‘You used up all your savings, didn’t you? Your house money.’

  ‘This was what it was for, really.
This was the rainy day you’re meant to save for.’

  Holly gave a hiccupy laugh. ‘It was my rainy day. Meg, I – I–’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said.

  We reached the entrance of Golders Hill Park, and headed past the emus towards the goats. ‘Nobody can really be unhappy looking at a goat,’ I said. And then, without altering my tone, ‘How’s your brain?’

  ‘That’s a blunt question,’ said Holly, pushing her gloved hands into her coat pocket.

  A tiny kid gave a ridiculously high-pitched bleat.

  ‘I was shocked when I heard about the ECT,’ I said, ‘but you seem all right.’

  ‘I’m not the person to ask,’ said Holly. ‘I slept through the whole course. They’d wheel me off and I’d wake up feeling woozy.’

  ‘They said it was an emergency. You were acutely depressed.’

  ‘Yeah, I heard that too,’ said Holly.

  ‘You sound like you’re talking about somebody else,’ I said. ‘Don’t you know?’

  ‘They said it might affect my memory a bit, but it hasn’t, as far as I know.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘Maybe I’ve forgotten.’

  ‘The funny thing is,’ I said, ‘that when I talked to you, just before the ECT, you seemed better already. You told me that at the moment you did that…’ I steeled myself to say the words. ‘When you tried to kill yourself, you said that was when you realized you didn’t want to die.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I guess I was hoping you were through all that.’

  Holly gave a shrug. ‘I’m not the most reliable witness. I’m just the person who had the electrodes stuck to my head.’

  ‘I was just surprised.’

  ‘Dr Thorne told Charlie that the major indicators for suicide are, first, having tried it already. Which seems pretty bloody obvious. And then being preoccupied with death. It’s not so much about being depressed. You can be incredibly, hopelessly depressed and not suicidal in the least. On the other hand, you can be not depressed at all and suicidal. You can become obsessed with it, as if it was a kind of hobby. It sounds like I was a mixture of both over the last few months and apparently it was something I started talking about again.’