Saving Daisy

by Phil Earle

  ‘Who you texting?’ Patrick asked.

  ‘Just a mate. Reckons he can get me a gig next week. Somewhere I can try out some new tunes.’

  ‘Safe,’ mocked Naomi. ‘You can get us on the guest list. We’ll look forward to it.’ It was obvious she didn’t believe a word of it.

  ‘Won’t be a problem. VIP passes the lot of you.’ Jimmy smiled, without looking up.

  This drew more eye rolls from the others, with Patrick looking particularly scathing.

  The arrival of the pizzas seemed to signal the end of ribbing Jimmy, as the four of them descended on the boxes like vultures.

  I waited until they’d scavenged what they needed before sliding a slice on to my plate, then picked at the salami and removed the chunks of pineapple. I might have been depressed, but I still knew fruit on pizza was sick and wrong.

  Patrick was wolfing his down, destroying each slice like he smoked his cigarettes. It was as if he feared someone eating them off his plate before he did.

  Jimmy, on the other hand, was secretive, taking his to the table at the far end of the canteen, sitting with his back to the rest of us, arms wrapped protectively round his plate.

  ‘Never lets any of us see him eat,’ Floss said, sighing as she returned with a cup holding two orange pills. ‘Hasn’t since the day he arrived.’

  I looked at the pills, two orange spheres that I’d been taking since early in my hospital stay, and it struck me then that I didn’t even know what they were called.

  ‘You need some water?’

  I shook my head and pointed at my cup, before tipping the pills to the back of my throat and washing them down with a grimace.

  It didn’t cause a stir with the others. In fact, after seeing me, Floss handed out other cups to Susie, Naomi and Patrick, but she went nowhere near Jimmy.

  Susie washed hers down, thanking Floss enthusiastically. Patrick flat refused his, swiping the cup on to the floor, while Naomi tried to strike a bargain with hers.

  ‘I’ll take ’em as soon as you give me a proper knife and fork to eat with.’ It was clear from her voice and Floss’s body language that this was a common argument.

  ‘Sweetie, you know the situation. We’ve been over it every night this week. Until we can trust you with the proper knives and know you’re not going to smuggle them upstairs with you, then it’s got to be the wooden ones.’

  ‘Have you felt how blunt the proper knives are? I couldn’t cut shit with them, even if I wanted to.’

  ‘Then what were you doing with so many in your room? And why were they hidden in different places?’ Floss’s tone wasn’t confrontational, just matter-of-fact, calm.

  It didn’t stop Patrick from sticking the boot in.

  ‘You wanna be careful giving her the wooden ones anyway. Never mind cutting her arms, she’ll give herself multiple splinter wounds with them bad boys.’

  He guffawed loudly and looked to the others for support, but got none. Susie looked scared and hugged herself gently, while Jimmy was still on the far bench.

  It was all Naomi needed to step up a gear, and she threw her chair backwards before launching herself over the table at Patrick.

  ‘They’re strong enough to cut you, you freak,’ she yelled, as she thrust the fork towards him.

  If she hadn’t been so out of control it would’ve been funny. Patrick certainly thought it was, as he shuffled away from her, flicking slaps at her head as he danced.

  ‘Come on, then. Cut me,’ he taunted, pulling a face. ‘Do your worst.’

  Naomi let out a scream, a whole-hearted banshee wail that started at her feet and propelled her towards him.

  I don’t think Patrick expected her to make contact. He thought he was too quick. So when the fork pierced his skin before splintering, everything went into slow motion. His hand reached for his face, and as he saw the blood on his fingers everything speeded up again and he lunged at her, elbows raised. There was a crunch as Naomi’s head went back, followed by a flurry of bodies as carers jumped in from all sides.

  Amazingly, Naomi was still on her feet, insults pouring out of her mouth. Despite Maya and Floss hanging off her arms, she still tried to get at Patrick, goading him with every insult she had.

  Patrick was no calmer himself, bucking and writhing as three male carers manoeuvred him to the floor. Even though all of them were bigger and older, they were struggling to contain him. Two of them pinned his arms down, resting their body weight on his shoulders, pushing his forehead into the floor, while Eric applied pressure to the small of his back. With an eye on his flailing legs, he talked gently to Patrick, his voice calm and even as he tried to bring him down.

  ‘Think about it, Paddy. Think about what’s happening, and try to breathe, you hear?’

  It was unreal, unlike anything I’d seen, on screen or in reality, and I looked to the others, only to find them unmoved. Susie was shuffling around a little, but was still trying to eat her food, while Jimmy just strutted across the room, ditched his plate by the serving hatch and punched numbers into his phone.

  That was it for me. I didn’t feel capable of watching any more, so I slipped off my chair, felt my back holler in annoyance and limped towards the stairs, not knowing if anyone had even noticed I was gone.

  Chapter 23

  My heart was hammering as I closed my bedroom door. I leaned against it, almost in fear that the fight was going to follow me up the stairs and into my room.

  My back was screaming at me now, forcing me to bend double. It was like my spine was an elastic band retracting from an extra long stretch. Every inch that I bent meant more pain, but I had no choice.

  I slid down the door and on to the floor, my knees tucked into my chest, my neck starting to contort in the same way as my back.

  My heart pummelled my ribs as my mind raced to make sense of it. What was going on? It wasn’t a panic attack: this was physical. I felt like someone was standing over me, screwing me up into a ball.

  I wanted Dad. Needed him and wanted to shout for help, but couldn’t force enough air into my lungs. All I could do was use what breath I had to keep on top of the pain.

  Biting cramps rushed through me, each one sending my neck and back into shapes alien to them. I kicked my leg against the door, hoping that the fight downstairs had stopped and someone would hear me, but doubted my efforts would be enough.

  Fortunately it was.

  At first I mistook the noise for an echo. Thought my kicking was reverberating down the long wooden hall. But the banging kept on going long after I had stopped. Then a voice followed. A voice I didn’t recognize, but it didn’t matter. It was the greatest voice I’d ever heard.

  ‘Daisy? Can you open the door?’

  I managed to twist my head enough to see the door handle straining, then felt the cold of the wood pushing against my back.

  ‘Whatever it is against the door, you need to move it. We’re worried about you and need to come in.’

  There was an urgency to the voice, an unmistakable sense that whatever obstacle was between her and me, it wouldn’t be enough to stop her.

  ‘It’s me,’ I cried. ‘I can’t move.’

  At that point I heard her shout a name I didn’t know, plus a demand to get a doctor. She didn’t know what state I was in, but was sharp enough to know it wasn’t pretty.

  ‘Daisy, I need you to try really hard to move away from the door. Just enough for me to squeeze through. Can you do that?’

  I told her I could despite thinking otherwise. My upper body was completely cramped up now, my neck twisted into my left shoulder as a spasm ripped through it and down my spine. All I could do was swing my legs round, which I did until they hit the door. From there I pushed my legs straight and grimaced as I skidded forward, far enough away for the door to rocket open, a woman’s face appearing around it.

  I relaxed a touch when I saw her, mostly because she didn
’t look appalled at what she’d found. I don’t know whether it was the relief of seeing someone that swayed me, but she was the most striking woman I had ever seen.

  Her face was full and round, her skin a deep shining African brown, dark freckles breaking out across her nose.

  As she saw the fear on my face, a long, easy smile stretched into view, a smile that told me, without saying a word, that everything was going to be fine now. That there was nothing I needed to fear.

  Pulling herself through the gap in the door, she fell to her knees and cradled my head in her lap. I cried out at the exertion, but it was worth it. She laid her hand across my forehead, pressing gently, sucking the pain away and into her palm.

  I forced my eyes up towards her, to be met by the same smile that had appeared at the door.

  ‘Well, I didn’t think we would meet like this. A handshake is more traditional, but this will do fine. It is great to meet you, Daisy. My name is Adebayo, but everyone calls me Ade.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, tears jumping from my eyes in both pain and relief.

  ‘Now that is your first mistake. There is no need for sorry. Everything is fine and everything will soon be better. Just relax and trust Ade. Help is on the way.’

  It had only been a week since Dad died, but in that time the thought of anyone touching me had seemed horrific. But here, on the cold wooden floor of my new room, being hugged by a complete stranger felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It felt like I was being saved.

  Chapter 24

  News of my collapse called an end to hostilities downstairs. In fact in the half-hour it took to get a doctor to me, I had visits from everyone on site. Even Jimmy got off his phone long enough to poke his head round the door. He wasn’t being nosy or anything, he just told me to ‘chill’ before disappearing.

  The others, however, would’ve sat on the bed and watched had Ade let them.

  ‘This is not a reality programme,’ she told Naomi and Susie. ‘There is nothing for you to see and no way for you to help, so let us settle Daisy down, OK?’

  Susie apologized repeatedly as she scampered through the door, while Naomi rolled her eyes and stomped away.

  ‘Have I upset her?’ I asked through clenched teeth.

  ‘No, no, no. You must not worry about Naomi. Her nose is just a little out of joint with you arriving, that is all.’

  There was something so calming about the way she spoke. There was a strong African accent through her words, but they rose and fell so gently that it was like listening to a ticking clock, somehow mesmeric.

  The minutes passed slowly, each one bringing a new level of pain with it like an unwelcome present. Ade didn’t move, despite her uncomfortable position, her hands stroking my hair gently. I allowed my eyes to close and dream that they belonged to Dad or, even better, Mum.

  The serenity was broken by the arrival of the doctor, who looked less than impressed at being called out. She wore the look of a woman who’d been called here once too often.

  She didn’t give me much of a once-over, didn’t even get down to floor level to prod me or see what hurt. She simply reached for her mobile phone and told Ade she was calling an ambulance.

  ‘Quite why they discharged her so soon I don’t know.’

  She’d obviously been given the background on the way up the stairs.

  ‘Are you not going to come down here and speak to this girl?’

  It was the first time I’d heard ice in Ade’s voice, but it was definitely there and the doctor heard it. What’s more, she didn’t like it.

  ‘I don’t think that will be necessary. I can see from her convulsions that she should be in hospital. This is not the place for her to be right now.’

  Ade disagreed. ‘Oh, I think this is the perfect place for her to be, as it is only hours since she arrived.’

  The doctor looked around the room, the creases on her forehead telling us both what she thought of the place.

  ‘If you are a doctor – and obviously you are, if you know better than me – then why did you bother calling me out?’

  Ade let out a small giggle and shook her head slowly. ‘Oh, I am not a doctor. Far from it. But I do know that I have read this girl’s notes and I am wondering if that is the case with you.’

  The doctor shoved a hand in her pocket as if searching for something. It was a tic that Ade also noticed.

  ‘You will not find her file there. It is downstairs in the office, where I left it.’

  ‘Look,’ said the doctor, ‘I’m not a psychologist. I’m a GP. I don’t need to read a file to know that this girl is in enough pain to need my help. Now, are you going to let me do my job or not?’

  ‘If that means you taking her back to hospital, then I am not. What I will let you do is give her the medication she needs to take these pains away.’

  The doctor bristled, then set Ade a challenge.

  ‘I suppose you can tell me exactly what I should be prescribing to her as well.’

  ‘Of course, because I have read her file and know that for the past four days she has been taking haloperidol, an antipsychotic medication, and that she has not been given anything to guard against the side effects. That is why she is having these muscle spasms.’

  The doctor took a step forward and looked closer than she had before. Ade didn’t give her too much time before continuing.

  ‘So I would imagine a small dose of Valium would alleviate these immediate problems, followed by a prescription for procyclidine to prevent the muscle contraction returning.’

  The doctor got on her knees and tried to straighten my neck away from my shoulder. I shrieked as she did so and pushed my hand into Ade’s.

  ‘Can I see the medication she has been taking?’ the doctor asked. She said this without looking Ade in the eye.

  It didn’t take Maya long to return with it, by which time the doctor had checked my pulse, blood pressure and tried to flex every limb in my body.

  After looking at the label, she stood up and retrieved her bag from the door. She pulled out a small brown bottle, then scooted back to me. For the first time, it felt like she was actually looking at me.

  ‘I am going to give you a relaxant, Daisy, because it is more than likely that these spasms you are experiencing are a result of your medication. Alongside this, you should stop taking your other tablets until a psychiatrist can look at how to balance them properly.’ She smiled weakly, almost apologetically, before turning to Ade, her smile disappearing. ‘But if the contortions do not ease within an hour, then we will have no option but to stabilize Daisy in hospital.’

  She slid the tablets into Ade’s hand before standing up and shooting me a final look. It was a mixture of sympathy and pity. ‘Get yourself well, my dear,’ she said, and then she left.

  They didn’t waste any time getting me to take the pills and I believed 100 per cent that they would work. After Ade’s confidence in front of the doctor, how could I think anything else?

  She stayed with me on the floor for about fifteen minutes until very gradually my neck began to straighten. It was like someone was slowly ironing the kinks out of my back and by the time the sensation reached the bottom of my spine I was in love with these drugs. I felt like a giant – like I could clean the cobwebs from the ceiling with a flick of my wrist.

  The relief was so strong that I forgot everything else, what I’d done, who I’d lost, everything. I wanted to sing and dance and hug everyone in the building. The relief took me over.

  Wedging my elbows into the floor, I pushed myself upright, relishing the return of my limbs. Ade straightened her legs as well, jiggling the blood through them after her own inactivity.

  ‘Don’t overdo it, Daisy,’ she warned. ‘The tablets will make you feel very tired.’

  I didn’t bother listening. I felt like I could climb a mountain or run a marathon. But the second I actually planted my feet
on the floor I felt my balance waver, as my feet forgot how to hold me upright. I toppled backwards, but not far, as again Ade was there, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me across the room and on to the bed.

  She yanked the shoes from my feet and pulled the duvet up to my chest.

  My eyelids drooped as the drugs buzzed through every cell in my body. I managed a woozy smile and ‘Thank you’. It was the best I could do.

  The same girlish giggle came back from her, along with the shake of a head.

  ‘No, no, no, Daisy,’ she said. ‘I should be thanking you.’

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but was too tired to argue. Instead I let my head sink into the pillow.

  Sleep came quickly, within moments. But I knew as it gripped me that Ade was still in the room, because I heard her voice. Where her voice stopped, though, and my dream started, I wasn’t sure, because the last words I heard didn’t make any sense at all.

  ‘I should be thanking you, Daisy Houghton. You are my lucky charm.’

  Chapter 25

  It was a shock to wake up and find I’d slept for twelve hours. Pulling myself out of bed was a bit of an ordeal, but discovering that my limbs felt like they belonged to me again sugared the pill.

  After finding the bathroom and changing my underwear, I pulled on Dad’s shirt and headed towards the stairs.

  There was music coming from two of the other rooms on the corridor, presumably Naomi’s and Susie’s. Behind one door I could hear the jangly guitar of some cheesy pop song, while from the other, the harsh bass line and whine of some rapper or other. It didn’t take much to work out whose music belonged to whom.

  As I yanked open the door that led to the stairwell, other music filtered in too, this time from the boys’ floor, more beats, more bass, different tempos. I paused as the various sounds assaulted my ears. It was chaos, perfect chaos, which just about summed up my first day here entirely.

  The stairs vibrated as I walked down them, but I was careful this time not to knock anyone flying as I went.