Dark Spaces (5 page)

She turned off her phone and slid it into her jacket pocket.

The Grove had an impressive red-brick facade, the gaping entrance flanked by white columns. Built at the turn of the nineteenth century, it was impeccably maintained, swallowing government funding like a frog swallows flies. Its beauty had seen off numerous attempts to shut it down and replace it with a site built for purpose and efficiency.

Lilly grabbed her bag, locked the Mini and strode inside with more confidence than she felt. She absolutely detested hospitals, and if forced to come within spitting distance of one would start to sweat and shiver as if she had flu. It had been this way since her mother had died slowly and painfully when Lilly was twenty-one.

She fiddled with her top button and plastered on a grin, telling herself that this was different. This was a facility providing mental health care and conducting research. No one was dying.

By the time she approached the reception desk, her cheeks were beginning to ache with the width of her grin.

‘Can I help you?’ The receptionist wore a jersey wrap dress, pearl droplet earrings and a smile.

‘I’m here to see Lydia Morton-Daley,’ Lilly replied.

Before the receptionist could answer, a nurse, who had been ferreting in a drawer, interrupted. ‘Visiting hours are not until two.’

‘I’m a solicitor,’ Lilly told her. ‘I have an appointment.’

‘A solicitor?’ the nurse asked.

Lilly didn’t let her smile fade. ‘That’s right.’

‘You’d better call Doctor Piper,’ the nurse told the receptionist.

The receptionist nodded and swivelled her chair so that her back was to Lilly, then she spoke quietly into a telephone. At last she replaced the receiver and came back to Lilly.

‘Take a seat.’

The two women spoke in hushed tones as Lilly did as she was told, tucking her ankles under the chair, scanning the room. To her left was a low table scattered with leaflets. She picked up the brightest, shocking pink letters screaming at her to ‘Spot the signs of an eating disorder’. As she read through the ten most common ways to identify anorexia, she noticed someone had scrawled a tiny message in biro: ‘Fuck food’.

‘Miss Valentine?’

Lilly looked up at a man in his mid-forties, eyes dark brown and accentuated by laughter lines, a smattering of grey at his temples. The nurse pounced on him and hissed something Lilly didn’t catch. The man tapped her shoulders with the blades of his hands three times. Chop, chop, chop. Then moved towards Lilly.

‘Harry Piper.’ He held out his hand to Lilly. ‘I’ve taken over Sheba’s patient list while she produces the next Nobel prizewinning psychotherapist.’

Lilly shook his hand. The grip was firm, the skin of his palm smooth against hers.

‘Our guest says she’s a solicitor,’ the nurse told him.

He turned to her. ‘It’s fine, Elaine. We’re expecting her.’

The nurse gave Lilly a final look and left.

‘Don’t mind Elaine.’ Piper bent his head towards Lilly. ‘She’s very suspicious.’

‘Of what?’ Lilly asked.

Piper laughed. ‘Everything.’ He gestured to a side door. ‘Shall we?’

Lilly nodded and let him lead her through to the corridor beyond.

‘Have you ever been in a mental hospital before?’ he asked.

‘No.’

‘It’s not how most people imagine,’ he said.

‘What do most people imagine?’ Lilly asked.

There was a twinkle in his eye. ‘Oh I don’t know. A cross between
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
and
Jacob’s Ladder
. Lots of blood and screaming into the night.’

Actually Lilly had pictured it as pretty calm. The patients koshed by antipsychotic medicine.

‘I don’t have any preconceptions,’ she said.

Piper laughed and wagged a finger at her. ‘So what did Sheba tell you about Lydia?’ he asked.

‘Not too much. She got nicked for stealing a car and driving under the influence,’ said Lilly. ‘And she was exhibiting symptoms of mental illness.’

Piper nodded. They had reached the end of the corridor and he began to tap in a code to open the next door, the pad of his finger met by a sharp bleep.

‘What do you think?’ Lilly asked.

The door lock released and he held it open for her. ‘I haven’t had a chance to spend too much time with Lydia yet, but I’d say Sheba is spot on. She usually is.’

‘What’s your diagnosis?’

‘Too early to say. But there’s a hell of a lot going on,’ he said.

‘What sort of thing?’

‘She switches between being very angry and destructive to being indiscriminately affectionate. She’s very manipulative and tells whopping lies. But she’s also brutally honest about some things, inappropriately so.’

‘Do you think she’ll respond to treatment?’ Lilly asked.

He stopped at yet another door, his fingers on the handle. ‘Why don’t you meet her and tell me what you think?’

When he opened the door a gush of hot air hit Lilly. Like being blasted by a hairdryer. Lilly felt sweat prickle in her armpits.

‘Lydia hates to be cold,’ said Piper.

Lilly entered the room and clawed at her collar. In the far corner was a girl. She was tiny, almost birdlike. Her bare arms shockingly snappable. She didn’t look at them, instead she kept her gaze fixed on the wall.

‘Lydia, this is Miss Valentine, a solicitor Sheba arranged to visit you,’ said Piper.

‘What happened to the fuckwit that came to the police station?’ The girl’s accent was cut glass, the voice clear.

‘We thought you needed a specialist,’ said Piper.

She kept her eyes firmly on the wall. ‘Do my parents know?’

‘Not yet,’ said Piper.

A smile spread across the girl’s face and she hooted with laughter, rocking back and forth until she broke down into a hacking cough. At last she looked at Lilly. The right side of her face was bathed in yellow, the remnants of a huge bruise fading into the skin.

‘My parents are going to be fucking furious.’

‘I’m a big girl now,’ said Lilly.

Lydia stopped laughing and stared. ‘They don’t like being told what to do.’

‘Nobody does,’ Lilly replied, dropped her bag on the table and sat down.

‘Right then,’ said Piper. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Shout if you need anything, Miss Valentine.’

His eyes flicked to the panic strip running the length of the room. One touch and the cavalry would come running. Lilly gave a tight nod and he left.

‘I need to ask you some questions about the night you were arrested,’ said Lilly, taking out paper and pen.

‘Not much to tell. It was a crap party.’ Lydia yawned without covering her mouth and ambled to the table. She slid into the chair as if she were liquid.

‘What did you do?’ Lilly asked.

‘Nothing.’ Lydia bent forward and put her forehead on the table.

‘You must have done something,’ said Lilly.

‘Just the usual stuff.’

‘And what is the usual stuff?’

Lydia tapped her head gently against the wood. ‘Drank a bit, danced a bit. You know how it goes. Oh and I sucked some boy’s cock. I can’t remember his name.’

Lilly gulped.

‘He wanted to fuck me but I wouldn’t let him. Later on I felt sorry for him so I gave him a blow job. He got a bit pissed off though because I wouldn’t swallow.’ Lydia looked up at Lilly. ‘There isn’t any pleasing some people.’

Lilly didn’t respond but kept eye contact with her client. The girl wasn’t smirking and her eyes were wide.

‘I don’t like the taste of spunk. Do you?’

Lilly didn’t blink. ‘How much did you drink?’

Lydia sat up in one long movement, like a cat. She took a deep breath and exhaled it to the ceiling.

‘Did this boy give you the alcohol?’ Lilly asked.

A smile broke across Lydia’s face like a gash. ‘I can almost hear your brain going into action like the good little lawyer that you are.’ She leaned over and tapped Lilly’s temple. ‘Tick tock, tick tock. Did the nasty boy get Lydia drunk and force himself on her? Is this mess his fault?’

‘Well, is it?’

‘Sadly not. I was pretty sober when I did him. I found the vodka later.’

‘Where did you find it?’ Lilly asked.

Lydia sniffed and wiped her hand across her nose. ‘In a cup-board. The parents had obviously stashed it there out of the way of the kiddies.’

‘So you took it?’

‘Oh yeah.’ Lydia inspected the shiny streak of mucous on the back of her hand and Lilly tried not to gag. ‘I drank about half of it and decided to go home. It really was a crap party.’

‘And you stole the Mercedes?’

‘I wasn’t going to keep it.’ Lydia was affronted. ‘I mean, we’ve got better cars than that at home.’

‘But you didn’t have permission to take it?’

Lydia giggled. It was a high-pitched and girly sound. ‘Obviously not. I mean I was as pissed as a fart and I don’t have a licence.’

‘Why did you do it?’

‘I was bored.’ Lydia elongated the last word in a tortuous whine. ‘Just like I’m bored now. Can we go get a drink or something?’

Lilly looked around her. Were they allowed to just leave the room?

‘This isn’t a fucking prison,’ said Lydia. ‘I’m not under house arrest.’

With that, she went for the door and disappeared outside. Lilly bundled her things back into her bag and hurried after Lydia. From behind, the girl seemed skeletal, skinny jeans accentuating the lack of flesh on her bones, shoulder blades protruding around the straps of her vest. She seemed to walk with a slight limp, as if she were throwing one of her tiny hips to the side.

When she got to the door she wanted, she was greeted by a chorus of shouts. Lilly followed her into what could have been a school common room. Teenagers sat around chatting and drinking cans of Coke. One girl was painting another’s toenails a lurid green. In the corner, two boys were playing pool, teasing one another after each shot. They might have been any normal kids but for the ladder of cuts and scars tracing the inside of their arms.

From the far side a girl let out a shriek and waved. She was enormously overweight, folds of skin and fat sitting one on top of the other as though she were encased in a pile of tyres.

‘Lydia,’ she screeched again.

Lydia leaned in to Lilly. ‘That’s Chloe. She’s completely off her rocker.’

The girl bounced over to them sweating and panting. ‘Where’ve you been?’ she stuttered.

‘I told you, I had to see my solicitor,’ Lydia answered.

‘Is this her?’ Chloe’s eyes moved wildly between her friend and Lilly. ‘Is this the one?’

Lydia rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Chloe, this is the one.’

‘Is she going to help?’ Chloe struggled to catch her breath and batted away a trickle of perspiration running from her hairline to her cheek.

Lydia put a hand on her shoulder. ‘For fuck’s sake, calm down. Let me fetch you a drink.’ Then she moved towards a fridge and began to rummage through the contents.

With her friend gone, Chloe stepped towards Lilly, a wave of body odour radiating from her.

‘Are you going to help?’ Chloe whispered, the words strangulated in her throat.

‘I’m going to try,’ Lilly replied.

‘Thank you.’ The girl’s eyes glittered with tears. ‘Thank you so much.’

Then she pulled at the elasticated waist of her trousers and thrust her hand down the gap, extracting a piece of paper.

‘Take it,’ Chloe hissed.

Lilly was horrified, but the girl pressed it into her hand. It felt hot and moist and Lilly had to check the urge to retch. Then without another word Chloe ran to her friend and whispered something into her ear.

Gem stands outside Ali’s house waiting for someone to answer the door. On the street outside two dogs are humping. Gem looks away, her breath white in the cold.

When she was little, she used to pretend she was smoking. She’d go outside with her friend Adrianna, and they’d stand there with their fingers apart, sucking on their pretend fags, laughing their heads off before Adrianna’s mum would call them in for something to eat.

‘You want sandwich, Gem?’ she always asked.

‘Only if you’re making some,’ Gem would reply.

‘Of course,’ Adrianna’s mum would say. ‘I was just about to make it for myself.’

Same every time, which were a bit daft, ’cos Gem always wanted a sandwich and Adrianna’s mum knew she did. But it were like a little game they played so as Gem wouldn’t feel embarrassed or nothing.

Gem don’t see Adrianna no more. Her nan got sick and they had to go home to Poland to look after her. Gem used to wonder when they’d be coming back, but now she knows they ain’t. Who’d want to come back to this shithole?

At last the door is opened by Herika. She’s wearing a turquoise scarf on her head that looks like it’s made out of that really soft wool. Gem wishes she could touch it. Course she don’t do it, ’cos that would be well weird.