I took a cab from the hospital directly to the train station. Richard didn’t need me at the moment, and I had a lot I wanted to sort out. My psychiatric assessment was due the next day and I needed to find out what my mother had written in her journal.
I scoured the pages on the train and tried to work out more than I had done the previous night in the loft. But my French hadn’t improved overnight. I found myself looking at the other passengers, trying to decide whether or not they could speak French by how they looked. If Cathy couldn’t help me, if she was too busy, my plan B was to go Online to translate it. But my experience with those services in the past had been chaotic at best. Cathy would be my ideal.
I rang Janice Ward and explained that I may not now be able to see her until the following week — several days after my psychiatric assessment. Obviously this was a cause of concern for me. If I ended up being sectioned I would have missed the opportunity to find out more about my mother at the time of the adoption. I could ask Neil to drive me down and back in a day, or I could get the train, but it was quite a trek. It might have to wait. I rang Thelma, Richard’s next door neighbour, and asked if she would look after Ernie for a few days. She was delighted, of course, and asked me to pass on her best wishes to Richard. I wondered if her large blue slippers had belonged to a Mister Thelma.
I rang Colin to say that I might struggle to make my appointment the next day — the same day as my assessment. I just couldn’t see that happening.
‘I’m sorry, Colin,’ I said. ‘But it might be better just to forget it.’
‘I want you to come straight after your assessment,’ he said. ‘If your assessment is at 9am you can probably be at mine by about 11am.’
Was he being deliberately stupid, or just trying to make me feel better?
‘I might not be able to,’ I said. ‘If I’m sectioned …’
‘Christine,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you at 11. I’ve been discussing your situation with a colleague of mine and if what he suggests is correct it may change things significantly. I need to run through a few more things with you in person, but we can do that after you get back from the hospital.’
‘But that’s my point,’ I said. ‘I might not come back.’
‘I’ll see you at 11,’ he said. ‘Call me if you’re running late. I can see you earlier too. Just come as soon as you’ve finished. Neil can come too if you like.’
‘OK,’ I said.
There didn’t seem any point continuing my protests and “what ifs?”.
Finally I rang Neil to let him know I was on my way home.
‘I’ll meet you at the station,’ he said. ‘What time do you get in?’
‘Neil, your work. Don’t worry. I’ll just get a cab. I’ve only got my overnight bag anyway.’
‘What time?’
‘It’s due in at 1:48pm,’ I said.
‘I’ll see you there.’
It was good to get home again. Although I had only been gone a couple of days, it felt like an enormous amount had happened. I showed Neil the photograph and the journal.
‘She does look like you,’ he said.
I opened the journal and pointed to the small photograph of my mother — the one with the bicycle.
‘That bike was in the loft,’ I said. ‘I sat on it. Rang the bell. It was hers.’
Neil looked at me sideways.
‘It seemed like the natural thing to do,’ I said. ‘It’s only odd out of context.’
He looked back down at the pages.
‘See how every bit of space is covered,’ I said. ‘She’s even written up the sides of the pages.’
I turned to the first of the newspaper cuttings. Neil took the journal in both hands and scanned the articles.
‘It’s definitely them,’ I said. ‘I know it is.’
He nodded as he read.
‘It’s unbelievable,’ he said. ‘So sad. Two girls, the accidents so close together, less than a month between them. And how awful that the bodies didn’t turn up for over a week. Can you imagine how those parents must have felt?’
‘But now I’m lost,’ I said. ‘After what you said, about it maybe just being an accident like the paper said. It’s made me think all sorts of things. Am I really mad after all? Was she really mad at all? Have I just imagined the whole thing? Even now, as we’re talking, I can see them in my mind. I can recall what happened to them. To me it is real. But the papers and the police all say something different.’
‘Maybe it’s all connected to the bash on the head,’ he said. ‘It was a pretty severe thing. Maybe the girls just look like the ones in your dreams. A lot of teenagers look the same, no matter what the era. Your brain swelled, the doctors told you that. That must have some sort of effect. Perhaps these nightmares are simply as a result of that, and nothing else.’
‘But she was mad,’ I said. ‘Richard said as much. The torrent of words in here say as much. And the fact that my sister and I were taken away from her says it too.’
‘She may have been ill,’ he said, ‘but that doesn’t mean she killed those girls.’
‘She killed herself,’ I said. ‘I think she killed the girls too.’
Cathy came round after school and took the journal away with her. She promised she would have it all done as quickly as possible.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ I said.
‘It’ll be great for me to something other than schoolwork,’ she said. ‘And it’s lovely to see you again, we all miss you at school. I might even have this done by tomorrow.’
When Michael and Rose got home from school we all decided to grab a fish and chip takeaway for tea. I was too shattered to cook, and Neil’s microwave meal talents didn’t stretch much further than a single person.
After we’d eaten I made Michael and Rose sit either side of me on the sofa in front of the television. I put an arm around both of them and held them tight. Poor kids. They both squirmed after just a few seconds, Rose more than Michael. But they put up with it for longer than I could have expected. Ten minutes squashed with their mum was just about bearable. They knew I had an “appointment” coming up the next day, although they didn’t know the potential consequences of the results. I wondered if that was why they let me squish them.
They were both saved by the bell. Neil answered the phone. He called to me from the kitchen.
‘Christine?’
It was Colin.
‘I just wanted to let you know that I am available any time tomorrow morning. Early if it helps. And it needn’t be for the full hour necessarily. Just half an hour. I just have a few questions that I need to ask you and something I want to try out. So any time before or after your assessment.’
I felt a twinge inside. I was surprised that he had rung me at home, and at this time of night.
‘I’ll do the best I can,’ I said. ‘If I can’t make it, maybe I’ll send Neil along anyway.’
By the time I got back to the sofa, Michael and Rose had disappeared upstairs. I didn’t blame them.
No sooner had I sat down when the phone rang again.
‘I’ll get it,’ I said. ‘It’s probably Colin saying he can’t see me after all.’
It was my father — Richard.
‘It’s so good to hear from you,’ I said. ‘How are you?’
His voice was faint, and still raspy. But there seemed more energy behind it than when I had seen him at the hospital the day before.
‘I’m feeling much better,’ he said. ‘Stronger by the hour. I wanted to thank you for coming to see me yesterday. And also today.’
‘I thought you were asleep?’ I said.
‘The nurses said that you’d come. Said you stayed with me, talking to me for an hour or so.’
‘I’m so glad you’re on the mend,’ I said. ‘Do you know when you’ll be out, or is it a bit soon for that?’
‘Not just yet, they said. They need to keep an eye on me for a few days first I think. Perhaps after the weekend.’
I thought about m
y assessment and hoped I would still be around to make the trip down to see him.
‘I’ll come down,’ I said. ‘I’ll make sure I’m there when you get home. I stayed over last night, fed Ernie and stuff. I only came back up here because I have my assessment tomorrow. If it all goes OK I could even come back down tomorrow. I could be there by late afternoon, to see you.’
‘I hope he wasn’t any trouble to you,’ he said. ‘Bloody cat can be a nuisance sometimes.’
‘It was nice to have company,’ I said. ‘Thelma from next door is looking out for him at the moment.’
‘She’s a bloody nuisance too,’ he said.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ I said, ‘but I went up in the loft. You said there might be a picture of Amelie up there. I hope you don’t mind.’
He didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even hear his rattling breath.
‘Richard? I’m sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have done. But I did find a picture. You were right. It’s one of you and her.’
He coughed and I heard a nurse’s voice in the background.
‘Richard?’
‘I’m OK, he said. So you found one. I thought there might be one left.’
‘And I found a book. Like a journal. It had a photo of you in the front — and of her. She’s written it in French. I’ve given it to a friend of mine to translate. I brought it with me to the hospital this morning to show you, but because you were asleep…’
More coughing. More nurse voices.
‘Where did you find it? he said.
His voice had changed and I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned the journal. It had obviously caused him discomfort. It was too soon after his heart attack to bring up the past.
‘It was in among some old papers — dental records I think,’ I said. ‘I’ll show you when I come back down. We can go through it together if you like. Maybe when you’re feeling better, when you’re out of hospital. Besides, it needs translating first, so I probably won’t get it back until tomorrow at the earliest.’
I heard him say something but couldn’t make out what it was. A female voice came on the phone. The nurse.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I think he needs to stop talking now. He’s coughing quite a bit and we need to settle him down.’
‘OK,’ I said.
‘He’s definitely on the mend though,’ she said. ‘He might even be out of bed tomorrow, walking around a bit. We’ll call you and let you know.’
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