The Woman who Went to Bed for a Year

38

Eva knew it was midnight by the sound of church bells ringing and rockets exploding. She heard corks popping downstairs and Brian’s voice booming, ‘Happy New Year!’

She thought about all her previous New Years. She had always expected more from the night. Had waited in vain for something extraordinary and magical to happen once the long hand of the clock moved away from the twelve.

But everything had always been the same.

She had never been able to join in with ‘Auld Lang Syne’. She liked the words We’ll raise a cup of kindness’ and she envied those celebrating, but she could not link arms and dance in a circle with the others. People would break the circle and invite her in to fill the space, but she invariably refused.

‘I like watching,’ she always said.

Brian would say, as he flung himself about, ‘Eva doesn’t know how to have fun.’

And it was true. She even disliked the word. ‘Fun’ suggested enforced gaiety, clowns, slapstick. North Korean parades where ranks of synchronised children danced with a fixed smile.

Now she was hungry and thirsty. She had obviously been forgotten again.

Earlier that morning, Brian had gone up and down the street delivering leaflets inviting the neighbours to an Open House party. The leaflet had said (she had shuddered at the word ‘pop’):

Please pop in, and have some fun.

Let’s get to know each other.

Bring a bottle.

Nibbles supplied, but I suggest you eat before coming.

Well-behaved children tolerated.

Our door will be open to you from 9.30 p.m.

PS: Dr Brian Beaver will conduct a short tour of his observatory and, depending on the seeing (or, as you non-astronomers define it, atmospheric conditions/cloud cover), it may be possible to view Saturn, Jupiter, Mars and perhaps the more minor planets.

Yvonne had bought Eva a charming brass temple bell from Bali via Homebase, as a means of communicating with others in the house, but Eva had yet to ring it. There was something distasteful about summoning others to attend to her needs. She would wait until somebody remembered her and brought her something to eat. Through the wall she could hear the twins muttering and tapping on their laptops. The speed of the keys was uncanny. Every now and again there was harsh laughter, and cries of, ‘High five!’

She heard her mother and Yvonne making their way up the stairs.

Ruby said, ‘I don’t know whether to go to the doctor’s with it or not. It could be a harmless cyst.’

Yvonne said, ‘As you know, Ruby, I was a doctor’s receptionist for thirty years. I can tell a cyst from something nasty.’

She heard them go into the bathroom together.

Ruby sounded uncertain of herself, for once. ‘Should I take my corset, vest and bra off?’

Yvonne replied, ‘Well, I can’t tell anything through layers of cloth, can I? Don’t be shy, I’ve seen thousands of titties in my time.’

There was silence, which was broken by Ruby gabbling nervously, ‘Do you think Eva is having a nervous breakdown?’

Yvonne instructed her, ‘Put your arm above your head, and keep still… Yes, she’s had a breakdown. I said it from the first day.’

There was silence again.

Then Eva heard Yvonne say, ‘Put your clothes back on.’

Ruby asked, ‘Well? What do you think?’

‘I think you ought to have an X-ray. There’s a lump the size of a walnut. How long have you known about it?’

‘I’m too busy to hang about at the hospital.’ Ruby lowered her voice. ‘I have to look after her.’

Eva wondered if she was having a breakdown.

A few years ago, Jill – a colleague of hers at the library – had suddenly started to talk to herself, muttering that she was unhappily married to Bernie Ecclestone. She then started to throw all the books with red covers on to the floor, saying that they were spying on her and relaying messages to MI5. When anyone approached her, she had screamed at them that they were agents of The System. Some fool had called security and tried to drag her out of an emergency exit. She had fought them off like a wild animal, all teeth, fingernails and snarls, and had run towards the public park that bordered the university grounds.

Eva and the security men had followed her. The overweight security men were soon out of breath. It was Eva who caught up with her. Jill had thrown herself face down on the grass and was holding on to the tufts, saying, ‘Help me! If I let go of the grass, I’ll float away.

Eva thought the kindest thing would be to sit on Jill’s back and pin her to the ground. When the panting security men approached, Jill had started to scream and struggle again. A police car had driven across the park at high speed, with its siren screaming. Eva could do nothing more to help her friend. The policemen and the security men finally managed to restrain her, and the car had taken Jill away.

When Eva was finally allowed to visit Jill in the psychiatric unit, she did not at first recognise her. She was in a featureless room, sitting on a plastic chair, rocking slightly. The other patients scared Eva. The noise of the television was intolerable.

‘This is bedlam,’ she thought. ‘It is actually Bedlam.’ As she walked through the hospital grounds, she thought, ‘I would rather be dead than be sent to a place like this.’

Years later, she had seen an amateur production of Marat/Sade performed by The Faculty Players. Brian had been a very convincing lunatic. For some weeks afterwards, she had been haunted by the thought that madness could be lurking just around the corner, waiting to sneak inside your head while you were sleeping and engulf you.

Eva did sleep for a while. When she awoke, she was startled to see Julie, her neighbour, sitting in the soup chair.

Julie said, ‘I’ve been watching you sleep, you were snoring. I came to wish you a happy New Year, and to get out of that madhouse I call home. I’m at breaking point, Eva. They don’t listen to me now. They’ve lost all respect for me. We spent a fortune on their Christmas presents. Steve bought the eldest boys a PlayStation each, and a television for Scott so he can watch his cartoons as he goes to sleep. They all had a big sack from Santa, full of toys, and half of them are already broken. Steve can’t wait to get back to work, and neither can I.’

Eva, who was feeling irritable due to lack of food, said, ‘For Christ’s sake, Julie, if they play you up, you confiscate their bloody PlayStations! Lock them away until they learn some respect. And remind Steve that he’s an adult male. That cajoling tone he uses with them isn’t working. Can he actually raise his voice?’

‘Only at the football on the telly.’

Eva said, ‘You and Steve are scared to discipline them because you think they won’t love you any more.’ Then she roared, ‘You’re wrong!’

Julie jumped and started fanning her fingers in front of her eyes.

Eva regretted shouting so loudly, but neither of them knew what to say next.

Julie looked critically at Eva’s hair. Want me to give you a trim, and do your roots?’

When the boys are back at school, eh? I’m sorry I shouted, Julie, but I’m so hungry. Will you fetch me some food, please? They keep forgetting I’m here.’

‘Either that, or they’re trying to starve you out!’ said Julie.

When Julie had gone back to her anarchic household, Eva felt a surge of self-pity, and almost wished she was downstairs grazing the buffet. She heard Brian shout, “‘Brown Sugar”! C’mon, Titania.’

When the music started, she imagined them strutting in the kitchen and singing along with The Rolling Stones.