When Daddy Comes Home (16 page)

A
s Gus and Antoinette were sitting together in the residents’ lounge, a nurse approached them. ‘Girls, there’s a dance being arranged for the patients in the main building tomorrow night. Patients from this ward are allowed to go over and join in. Do you want to go?’

Antoinette started to shake her head. It didn’t sound very enjoyable to her. The patients in the main building were permanent residents, those with such severe problems that they would probably never venture into the outside world again.

‘Oh, come on,’ said Gus, coaxing her. ‘It’ll be fun. We can get dressed up and enjoy ourselves for a change.’

‘I don’t know,’ Antoinette replied doubtfully. ‘What will I wear?’ She thought of her meagre wardrobe. The waistbands of her skirts and trousers now dug into her while her jumpers clung too tightly. The stodgy hospital food had increased her weight by over ten pounds and she was conscious that her figure was much fuller. Her clinging clothes might have brought admiring glances from some of the male patients but that only made her feel uncomfortable. She was also aware that the ward sister flashed the odd disapproving look whenever she had made an effort to look nice.

‘I’ll lend you a blouse,’ said Gus. ‘Lots of my things will fit you. We can dress up and get ready together. Make an evening of it.’

Suddenly Antoinette felt a flicker of something approaching excitement. It was a long time since she had experienced fun far less sought it out.

The following day both girls forgot their problems as they enjoyed getting ready for a night out like any normal teenagers. Gus chose a long-sleeved blouse which covered the marks of the self-mutilation and lent her friend a charcoal grey skirt and a scarlet blouse. When they were dressed, they carefully inspected their faces in the mirror above the washbasin and made themselves look as glamorous as possible. With her hair backcombed and lacquered, Antoinette felt young and pretty for the first time in many weeks. The two girls inspected each other, checking that shoes were polished and stockings unladdered, and when they had pronounced each other ready, they made their way to the lounge.

The other patients were already there and were gathered in small groups. A buzz of animated chatter livened up the lounge. Everyone was dressed in what finery they had managed to put together and there was an unaccustomed air of gaiety and excitement.

Two uniformed nurses, who also seemed relaxed and happy with the break in their routine, led them to the main building. The old part of the hospital smelt different to the psychiatric ward: it had the nasty aroma of unwashed bodies and cheap disinfectant, and the bitter tang of medication seemed to be everywhere. But Antoinette did not wrinkle her nose at it; she was caught up in the cheerfulness of the other patients and had even gone as far as promising a dance to one of the male inmates.

Two doors led into the huge room where the dance was to be held but it quickly became apparent to everyone’s consternation that the men and women were to be separated. The men had to join a queue at one side and the woman another, and then enter through different doors.

‘What’s going on?’ whispered Antoinette to Gus, nervous.

‘They must be bringing up the other patients. The ones from the long-stay wards here in the main building,’ Gus whispered back.

‘How will we all stay together if weDre separated?’ Suddenly the men from the psychiatric ward looked safe and familiar.

‘Join your line, please!’ called a nurse. Gus and Antoinette went with the other women to stand by their door. The sound of footsteps and chatter heralded the arrival of the women from the long-stay wards. Immediately the girls felt embarrassed that they had dressed up as the inmates arrived and joined the queue behind them. These women wore shapeless uniforms, the only clothes allowed for long-term patients, but they seemed unaware of their shabby dresses, thick stockings and flat scuffed shoes as they talked excitedly to each other. Some were quiet, their heads downcast, lost in the dreams that sedatives give as they shuffled silently along to join the queue. One pressed in close to Antoinette and she smelt the sweet cloying smell of the liquid drug Paraldehyde on the other woman’s breath. She quickly turned her head away, nauseated.

Before she had time to think about the fates of these women, the doors swung open and the crowd surged forward, pushing Antoinette and Gus with the rest of their group through the doors.

The other psychiatric patients looked at each other appalled – they had thought that their ward would be an elite little group that danced and mixed with each other while ignoring
the others. They hadn’t wanted to fraternize with the long-stayers.

Gus and Antoinette saw the anxiety on the older women’s faces and hung on to each other, trying not to giggle. They had the confidence of youth that as soon as the music started, the men from their ward would make a beeline for them and they would be the belles of the ball.

They were wrong. While the men from the psychiatric ward had the advantage that most of them had learnt to dance at school, they did not possess the speed of the men from the main building. It seemed that no matter how sedated they were or what mental problems had led them to a life inside the hospital, the sight of so many women dressed up prettily lent them wings.

The opening notes of the first record acted as a starting pistol. Ignoring the women wearing uniforms, the male patients from the long-term wards converged as one on Antoinette’s group.

Antoinette quailed as the men rushed forward. A tall patient with flushed cheeks reached her first, sprinting towards her on his long legs, clumsy as a newborn colt. Without stopping to talk, he grabbed her arm and whirled her into a dance, one that only he knew the steps to.

He’s obviously confused dancing with the three-legged race, she thought, too surprised to resist. Not that she could have stopped him. With huge enthusiasm, her partner held her firmly and ran at full speed to the end of the hall where only the wall saved her from falling. Then, with more strength than skill, he turned her round and repeated the exercise, running her back down the room at full pelt.

At last, the music stopped and the wild dash up and down the room came to an end. Her partner released her reluctantly.
The wide grin on his face seemed to indicate that this was the best time he had ever had and Antoinette could not help herself smiling back at a man who appeared so happy.

She glanced back at the patients from the ward, and saw that some of the men were doubled up with merriment at her predicament. She glared at them and then looked beseechingly at the others. As the second record started up, the men from her ward took a leaf out of the book of the long-stayers and this time moved faster. Antoinette sighed with relief when Danny, her favourite male nurse, grasped her arm before her previous partner could make another claim.

The next dance was a jive, something she was good at and, as Danny swung her in time to a fast beat, she felt the music move her and her inhibitions leave. Round and round she spun, under his arm, round his back and into his arms again. To her delight, loud applause broke out as the dance came to an end.

‘Stay with him,’ said one of the other nurses. ‘It’s good entertainment.’

Antoinette readily agreed. She gave her partner from the first dance a cheerful wave as she jived near him and grinned when he returned it. It was a pleasure to see the long-term inmates enjoying themselves. As the evening progressed, discipline slackened and the patients of her ward were allowed to stay together.

Gus and Antoinette suddenly noticed a group of woman who were watching the dancing but had not joined in. Then she saw that on the opposite side of the room there were some men, dressed in equally shapeless uniforms as the woman, standing nervously together. It seemed that without any firm direction from the staff, they had no idea what to do and simply stood on the sidelines, bewildered.

‘We can’t have that, can we?’ said Gus with a grin. ‘My mother always told me that the point of a good party is that everyone has fun.’

Antoinette went up to Danny and pointed out the wallflowers. ‘We want them to enjoy themselves as well,’ she said. ‘The dance is for everyone.’

‘What do you want me to do about it?’ he asked.

The girls’ brows furrowed with concentration, and then Gus came up with an idea.

‘The congo, of course! You don’t have to know any dance steps for that. YouDre staff, Danny. You start it off and we’ll pull everyone in.’ She turned to the rest of the patients from the ward. ‘Come on, everyone. There’s nothing special about us. Let’s mingle and make sure we all enjoy ourselves.’

The music started. Danny took charge and Antoinette followed behind, clasping his waist. As they started sashaying round the room, Antoinette grabbed her first partner by the hand and showed him how to join the line. Gus pulled one of the quiet women from the sidelines on board and then everyone joined in. Soon, over fifty people were swaying to the congo in a long line that swerved and wriggled in time to the music. Round and round they went and then, to cries of ‘one more time!’, they did it twice more. Suddenly there were smiles and laughter that broke through the daze of Paraldehyde and barbiturates and the patients from the main building seemed to come to life. There were loud whoops of glee as they whirled and danced.

For the grand finale, there was the hokey-cokey instead of the last waltz. It wasn’t easy for so many people to form a circle and when they did, right feet swung out and left feet swung in a rhythm that had little in common with the music. Nobody cared.

‘Hey, Danny!’ yelled a patient whose wide cheeky grin showed his total enjoyment. ‘Good thing the people on the outside can’t see how we party on the inside. They’d all want to come in if they did!’

T
wo nights after the dance, the night sister woke Antoinette up.

‘Antoinette,’ she whispered, ‘it’s your friend Gus. We’ve had to send for her parents. Will you sit with her until they come?’

Antoinette blinked groggily and looked up at the nurse in confusion. She knew that it was not time to get up; the ward was still almost in darkness.

‘Come with me. I’ll explain in the kitchen.’

Antoinette slipped her arms into the dressing gown the nurse held out, shuffled feet into her slippers and followed the night sister. She could guess that something serious had happened but what, she didn’t know.

But they told me to sit with Gus, she reassured herself. So if she had done something really terrible – she shied away from the word suicide – they wouldn’t have woken me in the middle of the night.

‘Is she…all right?’ she asked timidly.

The sister glanced at her and read the concern on her face. ‘Don’t worry, your friend will live. We found her in time.’

She told Antoinette that Gus had climbed into a bath filled with hot water and then, with a razor she had stolen from a locker belonging to one of the male patients, had proceeded to
slash both her arms. Thinking she would be undisturbed, she had cut and slashed in a frenzy of self-mutilation. There were so many cuts that the water had turned scarlet.

‘She’s a very sick girl,’ said the sister sadly. ‘There’s nothing more we can do for her in this ward. Both her parents are coming for her but it will take some time for them to get here. I don’t want her left alone but there’s only one other nurse on duty. And Gus keeps asking for you.’

Antoinette couldn’t hide how upset the news made her. The sister looked at sympathetically.

‘Will you do it?’ she asked.

‘Of course I will,’ Antoinette said quickly. ‘Gus has helped me so much since I’ve been here. But I don’t understand why her parents are being sent for.’ She knew that suicide attempts usually meant a transfer to the main building and the twilight, drug-heavy existence of the patients she had seen at the dance.

‘Didn’t she tell you? Her mother is a psychiatrist. We think she may be the best person to help her now. Gus has everything she could wish for except – ’ the sister paused ‘– happiness.’

Antoinette crept quietly into the side ward where Gus had been placed. Her friend lay tucked under the bedclothes, her red hair contrasting with the pallor of her face. Her arms were bandaged and lay stiffly outside the sheets. Antoinette sat down next to her, took the hand nearest her and stroked it lightly.

‘Gus, it’s me. Can you hear me?’ she asked, stricken to see her friend in this state. Gus had seemed so upbeat lately – she had really enjoyed herself on the night of the dance. The sandy head turned slowly and two blue eyes looked directly into hers. Antoinette saw the despair that was
written into them. She felt answering tears come to her own eyes but blinked them away. Crying was not going to help her friend.

‘My parents are coming,’ said Gus quietly, through dry lips.

‘Yes, I know.’

‘They’ll send me away to a nice private place. Right now, they’ll be busy on the phone making sure they do the right thing.’

‘You never told me that your mother’s a psychiatrist.’ It was all Antoinette could think of to say.

‘Didn’t I? Well, it’s not the most important thing to me. It’s the most important thing to my mother, though. She places great importance on her work and her patients’ needs.’ She sighed. ‘She doesn’t see me. She sees I need help but she doesn’t see me. I’ve made my mother a failure in her eyes. What kind of doctor is she if she can’t help her own daughter? What she should ask herself is why she failed as a mother.’ Gus looked at her and smiled weakly. ‘This must all seem ridiculous to you. I know she’s nothing like the one you have – but I’m not as strong as you.’

Startled that anyone should think she was strong, Antoinette thought Gus must be joking but realized that her friend was unlikely to capable of humour at such a moment. ‘I’m not strong,’ she retorted.

‘Yes, you are. YouDre still alive, aren’t you?’ The sandy head turned away.

Antoinette knew her friend had finished talking. She sat silently holding Gus’s hand until the nurse came.

‘Gus, your parents are here,’ said the sister. ‘They have come to take you home.’

‘Not for long,’ Gus retorted. ‘Mummy has her patients to look after, ones with real problems. You know, nurse, it’s a nice
private clinic for me. My mother can pay for the experts to look after me while she earns her money looking after people who need her.’

The nurse had no answer to give but just started to put out clothes for Gus to wear.

Antoinette knew it was time for her to leave but she wanted to stay with her friend and walk with her to the entrance.

The nurse, who understood how close the girls had become, said kindly, ‘Antoinette, you stay here and then you can walk to the door with us and say goodbye to your friend there.’ Seeing the unhappiness on her youngest patient’s face, she sighed. ‘When Gus has gone, we’ll go to the kitchen and I’ll make us both a nice milky drink of hot chocolate.’

A hot drink was no compensation for what was happening to Gus, but Antoinette appreciated the kindly gesture and gave her a wobbly smile. A few minutes later, the nurse led the two girls to the lobby where an elegant woman dressed in dark trousers and matching jumper was waiting.

That must be Gus’s mother, thought Antoinette. She looks like someone who never dresses in a hurry. She looks like someone who always wants to make the right impression.

It was time to part. Gus turned to her and squeezed her hand. ‘Goodbye and get better. Remember what I told you. YouDre stronger than you think.’

Then, with a quick hug, the two girls parted. Gus walked over to the woman and the two of them went quietly out of the hospital. The last sight Antoinette had of Gus was a flash of red hair as the black sedan that had collected her drove slowly away.

One week later Antoinette’s dream returned.

She moaned in her sleep at the menace in her nightmare. As she began to fall and the mocking voices in her dream rose to a crescendo. Her control slipped. She came to semi-consciousness and stumbled half-asleep out of bed, desperate to escape the demons which had invaded her mind once more. But there was no evading them and their voices grew louder as she lurched down the corridor to the lounge. She threw herself into a chair and put her hands over her ears to shut them out, drawing up her legs under her chin.

The nurse found her rocking back and forwards moaning with despair, and saw that her brief spell of normality had come to an end.

The doctors resumed electric shock treatments. This time she did not run, but neither did she talk.