Witch Hunt

Chapter Twenty-Three




He was a wild tumbling thing, whirling about the hall, slightly deranged. No, not slightly. Massively. Hugely.

It took a long time to calm Dan down. And for me to get over the shock, for that matter. But, after God knows how long? – fifteen, thirty minutes? – I managed to get him into the lounge and sat down at the table while I made him a cup of tea.

It was crushing to see him brought so low. The man that had once been the epitome of reconstructed and regained dignity, of refinement and humility, reduced to the gibbering mess in my living room.

He couldn’t sit still for long, so I let him pace up and down as he talked – sometimes to me, mostly to himself.

The state he was in was not conducive to coherent conversation, but I did ascertain these basic facts; he had been living above me for ‘some time’ now. I had forgotten that I had given him a key to my place after I locked myself out a few months ago. Dan told me that he snuck out whenever I left the flat, and tried to use the facilities. From the way he stank and the stubble across his face, it can’t have been that often. Although he affirmed he was still taking his meds, it was quite clear that they weren’t working.

Within an hour I managed to call his doctor out. Initially Dan was adamant that I should not reveal his whereabouts, his paranoia moving him to outbursts of swearing and tears. When I explained to him that there might have been a mix-up in his medication, he relented long enough for me to make the call. Though he took a hell of a lot of convincing.

The doctor informed me he would be around as soon as he could and I was to keep Dan calm and reassured till he got there.

I tried to steer our limited exchange towards my work and the Hopkins stuff. It wasn’t a good choice. I was stupid to have mentioned such a macabre subject. Sometimes I forgot how it shocked other people so: my research had desensitised me. But Dan kept gasping and veering off, looping away, interrupting to tell me that I should be ‘in fear’.

‘There are people, things, Sadie, that mean harm. That’s why … no … not why … because …’ He twisted his hair into a dreadlock. It was the action of one insane, in distress. A huge lump hurt my throat as I let him babble.

‘No … how … no, not how … I was guarding … someone will come they will come to you … make an ending I don’t want here. Not here. No.’ He smacked his head in frustration. ‘It’s not you … it’s her … no, I’m wrong it’s … him … no, stop it! Stop. It’s all going round. Upside down. Ding dong.’

He bashed his hand onto the table.

I reached out to grab it. The top was glass and although his mind was currently weakened his body was still remarkably energised. The last thing I needed was a whole heap of smashed glass in my living room or on hand for him to trip on or pick up.

‘It’s okay, Dan,’ I told him. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe.’

Dan squeezed my hand. ‘I will protect … promise. You understand don’t you?’

I put on a respectful sombre face and lied. ‘Of course.’

He jiggled my wrist. ‘Don’t talk to strangers … er … look both ways when you cross path …’

He desperately needed to get back on his medication and straighten out. Plus he had a large slash across his forearm. Crawling across the loft to turn out his light, he told me that he had spilt his bucket (I didn’t ever want to know what was in it). In his attempts to mop it up he had cut his arm on a pipe and fallen.

The wound was vicious but I did the best that I could with disinfectant and a bandage. Then after much persuading, I ran him a bath.

Rummaging through my wardrobe I found an old pair of Christopher’s jeans that I’d kept out of spite, as they’d been too big for me, but luckily looked like they would fit Dan. One of my navy oversized sweatshirts would just about stretch to his size. The ensemble wasn’t perfect but when he emerged from the bathroom, his hair washed and combed back, his face clean-shaven, clad in those clothes, he looked less mental and a whole lot more human.

I tried to take his soiled clothes to wash but he wouldn’t hear of it. Behind his eyes I could see a returning of self. The tea and bath had begun to ground him.

Shortly after that Doctor Franklin arrived. A pleasant, sensible man in his late thirties, he had developed a good relationship with his patient. Indeed, Dan seemed to come down a little more as soon as the doctor walked through the living room door.

I sat on the sofa sipping my mug of tea, while he examined Dan’s eyes, took his blood pressure, asked a series of questions, went through a number of strange tests then took me by my elbow and guided me into the kitchen.

‘Would you mind making me a cup of tea please? It’s terribly late and I am rather tired. I’ll come out to the kitchen to fetch it. Only be a couple of minutes. Need a private patient–doctor moment.’

I closed the door and put the kettle on. A little bit of solitude would be a welcome relief. I pulled two mugs from the shelf and stuck a couple of teabags in them, wondering, now I had a moment to myself, how exactly Dan had come to be up in the loft? And why my loft? My loft? Why not Mum’s? Why not his?

And that begged the question – why the loft at all? Why not simply come over and have a chat? Or a meal? Or, if he had his concerns, he was always welcome to stay.

I dunked the teabags in the mugs then tossed them into the bin as the doctor returned.

He cleared his throat. ‘Dan’s just removing his property from, er, the loft space.’

I nodded. ‘Do you take milk?’

‘Actually I don’t want a drink, Ms Asquith, thanks all the same.’ He was speaking in a whisper now.

‘Oh right.’ I picked up mine and drank it, waiting for him to speak. The doctor scratched his chin, then he put his hand to his brow and bit his lip. There was something going on in his head: a mood or a feeling I couldn’t quite ascertain.

‘Can I enquire as to the nature of your relationship with Dan Hooper, Ms Asquith?’ he asked.

I leant back against the kitchen unit, a tad confused. Not by the question itself, as such, but by the way it was asked. I got the feeling that Doctor Franklin was restraining himself in some way. A shadow had crept over his face.

‘He’s kind of like my stepfather. I thought you knew that.’

Doctor Franklin nodded but didn’t speak any more. Then he picked up the mug he’d rejected. ‘I see. Did you invite him here to live with you?’

Despite myself I laughed. Franklin’s face suggested that was not the looked-for reaction. ‘No, of course not,’ I ventured.

He gaped at the laminate floor, apparently tracing its pattern. ‘It’s just that he’s insisting he’s here because of you.’ Franklin swept his eyes upwards. He couldn’t hide the anger in his stare.

‘Yes, I know,’ I said in earnest. ‘I don’t know why he’s saying that.’

He ran his free hand over the marble of the kitchen surface. ‘Was there some kind of disagreement between you and your mother?’

I shook my head vigorously. ‘No, none at all.’

‘Between you and Dan, perhaps?’

My face had hardened now. I didn’t like this line of questioning one bit. ‘No. Never. Nothing serious. We enjoy a bit of a debate but …’

He glanced at me and put a hand on his hip. ‘I know your mother has passed away, and regarding the line of inheritance … I wondered if it was a bone of contention between you and your step … Dan.’

What? I pushed away from the kitchen top and stood up to give my pose authority. ‘I resent the implication here. Whatever Dan’s told you, you’ve got it wrong,’ I said in a half-snarl, furious at the angle he was taking. ‘Our relationship was good. I’m as clueless as you are as to how he came to be camping out in my attic. I cared deeply for my mother and was disturbed by Dan’s absence. As was she. Now, if you don’t mind me asking – what’s this about?’

Doctor Franklin leant his six-foot frame against the kitchen surface and inclined his head towards me. ‘On Friday I received a call from Doctor Jarvis, the resident doctor at Howard Acres.’

‘I know him, of course,’ I said, unable to keep the condescension out of my voice.

‘It was regarding the medication that you brought in last week.’

‘Yes. That was Dan’s. One of the nurses at Howard Acres asked me to fetch it from his flat. Given his sudden disappearance, I think she wanted to check he was taking the right dose of his meds.’

‘Yes I heard.’ Doctor Franklin looked up now, straight into my eyes. ‘He wasn’t. I’m not sure how long he’s been off. Doctor Jarvis sent off a sample from the bottle brought in for analysis.’

‘Sally told me.’

‘Right,’ he nodded. ‘So you’ll be aware that the tests have revealed Dan’s been dosing himself with ibuprofen?’

I breathed in sharply. ‘What? Why?’

Franklin shot me a look laced with contempt. ‘Well, I don’t think he meant to, Ms Asquith.’

The fridge hummed and shuddered.

I shook my head. ‘Was it a mix-up at the pharmacy then?’

Now it was Franklin’s turn to scoff. ‘No pharmacist would have made that mistake. It would have been done after Dan had taken the prescription home. Can I ask who had access to his flat?’

There was some distant family but I was pretty sure they didn’t have keys. Dan was anal about things like that. ‘Just Mum and Dan, I think,’ I told him.

He nodded again and stared at me. ‘And you, Ms Asquith.’

I blinked and sucked in a raspy breath. ‘You can’t think that I interfered with Dan’s meds? What reason would I possibly have?’

Doctor Franklin shifted from foot to foot. ‘I hear that you were thinking of moving back into your mother’s property? Converting her bedroom into an office … ?’

That was enough. ‘How dare you!’ I straightened up fully. ‘I’ll be putting a complaint in about you …’ But no sooner had the words popped out of my mouth than I was cut off by a wail.

‘No, no.’ Dan had come up behind us. I had no idea how long he had been standing there or what he had heard but he was visibly distressed. He pulled me back, away from Franklin.

The doctor stepped forwards. ‘Dan, I think we need to take you to get that cut looked at. Then I’ll be recommending you stay in overnight.’ He glanced at me. ‘For at least one night.’

‘No,’ Dan shook his head. ‘Staying here with Sadie.’

‘Okay,’ I said.

Franklin shook his head. ‘I don’t think that’s wise.’

I could see how it looked and, despite my fury at Franklin, I knew Dan desperately needed to get back on the right

dose.

‘Listen, Dan,’ I made my voice soft. ‘I think Doctor Franklin’s right. You need to have your arm seen to professionally.’

‘I’m all right,’ he said. ‘I’m staying.’ Urgency hissed through his words. Something, some notion beyond the fuzz of his brain was troubling him. ‘You’re in danger.’

‘Okay,’ I said, glancing balefully at Franklin. ‘Is that why you’re here?’

‘Staying,’ he repeated and I could tell we weren’t going to get any more out of him. His eyelids were drooping over his bloodshot peepers. The poor guy was practically sleeping on his feet.

‘Look Dan, I’m perfectly fine. Honest, I’ll call the hospital if I need you. I promise.’ He didn’t move. ‘In fact, I really think you should go and get patched up so that you can be fighting fit again should I require your assistance. I might need you very soon but you’re no good to me like this.’

The suggestion flitted across his eyes, going back and forth through his brain as he slowly processed it. After what seemed several minutes, during which none of us spoke, Dan nodded. ‘But you call if you need to.’

I promised I would and Dan slowly turned to the doorway. Doctor Franklin held out his hand for me to shake. Dan couldn’t see me so I didn’t take it. ‘Sorry if I overstepped the mark just then,’ said Franklin. ‘It’s strange don’t you think?’

I blew out of my mouth and whistled. Didn’t mean to, but the air just went that way. I wanted to give him a ‘whatever’ look but did the whistle thing instead. He sighed. I didn’t look like I was angry. Just that I didn’t care.

Franklin reached down to gather up his bag from the hallway. I tugged on his arm and whispered. ‘Sorry. I do care about Dan. Of course I do. But I didn’t swap the pills. Why would I?’

Franklin regarded me for a moment before following Dan into the hall.

‘I’d prefer to believe you. Sincerely. But if you didn’t, who did?’