The Woman who Went to Bed for a Year

68

Ruby apologised to the two doctors and the nurse for the unswept dead leaves in the front porch. ‘As soon as I sweep ‘em up, others blow in.’

‘It is the nature of things,’ said Dr Lumbogo. When they had congregated at the bottom of the stairs, Ruby said, ‘I can’t remember the last time she ate anything hot. I chuck food in to her.’

Nurse Spears said, ‘You make it sound like the lion house at the zoo.’

Ruby said, ‘My memory lets me down now and again. And anyway, I can’t get up the stairs easy now I’m still waiting for that new hip!’

She looked at Dr Lumbogo, who said, ‘You are on the list, Mrs Brown-Bird.’

Dr Bridges asked, ‘Do we know if she’s likely to harm herself or others?’

Ruby said, ‘I’ve only seen her violent once, and that was at a woman dragging a kiddy along on its knees.’

Nurse Spears said, ‘There has been an aggressive undercurrent in all my dealings with Mrs Beaver.’

‘But no overt aggression?’ queried Dr Bridges. Nurse Spears said, ‘I wouldn’t turn my back if I was alone with her.’

They climbed the stairs and stood around outside.

Eva’s door. Eva was huddled in a corner of the room against the bedhead and the outside wall. She hadn’t washed for days and she could smell an earthy pungent odour that was not unpleasant to her.

She was so hungry that it felt as if her flesh were melting away. She lifted her white nightgown and felt her ribs – she could have played a melancholy tune on them. There was food next to the door. Local people had posted sandwiches, fruit, biscuits and cakes, but she wouldn’t get out of bed to pick them up. In desperation, Ruby had thrown apples, oranges, plums and pears, hoping to hit the bed.

When Eva was asked who the Prime Minister was, she replied, ‘Does it really matter?’

Dr Lumbogo laughed. ‘No, they are all blockheads.’

Dr Bridges asked, ‘Have you ever harmed yourself?’

Eva said, ‘Only when I have a bikini wax.’

When asked if she had thoughts about harming others, she replied, ‘Nothing really matters, does it? Not compared to infinity. Look at you, Dr Bridges, you’re composed of a mass of particles. You could be in Leicester one second and an eighth of a second later be on the far side of the universe.’

The two doctors exchanged a complicit glance.

Dr Lumbogo whispered to Dr Bridges, ‘Perhaps a rest in the Brandon Unit?’

Nurse Spears said, ‘You’ll need an approved mental health professional, and may I suggest a Section Four?’

Later, when the doctors had gone, Ruby put her hat and coat on and went to Stanley Crossley’s house.

When he opened the door, she said, ‘They’re taking Eva away.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say Mental Health Unit. There was something about the word ‘unit’ that chilled her.

He steered her through the books in the hallway and sat her down in the neat sitting room, where the books were in stacks against the walls.

Stanley said, ‘She isn’t mad, I’ve known mad people. I’ve been mad myself.’ He laughed, quietly. Then he asked, ‘Does Alexander know about this?’

Ruby said, ‘I’ve not seen hide nor hair of him. Brian’s never in, now that Tit woman has gone. Yvonne’s in a better place, and we haven’t heard from the twins in months. I feel as if I’m on my own.’

Stanley put his arms around Ruby and felt her yield against him. She was gloriously soft and squashy, he thought.

He asked, ‘Doesn’t my face bother you, Ruby?’

Ruby said, ‘When I look at you, I can see the face you used to have. And anyway, by the time you get to our age everybody’s face is buggered up, i’n’t it?’

Now that there was no chance of an audience with Eva, her acolytes drifted away until only Sandy Lake and William Wainwright remained.

The two of them had many long conversations. They kept their voices low out of consideration for the neighbours. They both agreed that Prince Philip had murdered Princess Diana, that the first moon landing had been filmed in a studio lot in Hollywood, and that George Bush had ordered the Twin Towers to be destroyed.

Sandy had made cocoa for them on her Primus stove. While they were sipping the hot liquid, William told Sandy about the slaves who processed the cocoa beans.

Sandy said, ‘I can’t sleep without my cocoa!’

William said, ‘We’ll nick the next tin, right?’

He put his arm around her broad shoulders. She pressed her cheek against his prickly five o’clock shadow. An owl screeched behind them. Sandy jumped in alarm and William tightened his grip, pulling her towards him.

He said, ‘It’s only a owl.’

‘An owl,’ she corrected him.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘a owl.’ They sat together and talked until the moon bathed them in a milky warm light.