‘Well, I’ll leave you in peace. Have you seen Mr Farrell at all?’
‘I think I heard him moving around next door about ten minutes ago.’
‘Ah, he’s back safely then. I’ll leave you both in peace and see you at dinner this evening.’ He closed the door quietly behind him.
I sprang off the bed, opened the door a crack and watched him stride off and round the corner, talking on his phone. Shutting the door, I thought for a moment. I was out of here! My first thought was to do the thing with the pillows so it would look as if I was still in bed, but that never looks real. Besides, this was a loony-bin. Admittedly, their clientele only consisted of the industrial, religious, and political leaders of our nation so they wouldn’t be expecting too much in the way of brains, but I was sure they’d be a bit more rigorous than that with their checks.
I scattered stuff around the room, pulled the bedclothes back and laid the dressing gown untidily across the bed. I hid the Red House sweats in the wardrobe and dressed in my own clothes. The car keys were on the dressing table. Of course, they’d given them back to the driver, not the owner. Good for them.
At the door, I turned and checked the room. It really did look as if I’d just got up, but not gone far. They’d waste a few minutes thinking I was in the bathroom, then maybe some more time looking around the building – I might have gone to explore. They might even search the grounds before thinking to check the gate. I know, voluntary patient and all that, but I didn’t mind betting that, when the chips were down, Knox would find some way of keeping me here, and it was a nice place – I really didn’t want to have to torch it.
The corridors were deserted, patients in bed, staff putting their feet up and having a cuppa. I tripped lightly down the stairs, car keys swinging from one finger and stopped at the desk. The orderly, Paul, wasn’t there and I was sorely tempted to keep on going, but I didn’t. He came back with a file.
‘Can I help you, Dr Maxwell?’
‘Yes, do I need to sign out?’
‘You’re leaving us so soon?’
‘Well, I stayed until he fell asleep. While I think of it, can you tell me what the visiting hours are, please?’
He handed me a small brochure. ‘Visiting details on the back.’
‘Thanks, this is just what I need.’
‘If you give me your keys, I’ll get the car brought round for you, miss.’
No, no, no, no …
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’
He disappeared. I heard voices.
Come on, come on. I was sick with anxiety.
He reappeared. ‘If you could sign here, please.’
I signed out and put the time. ‘Are there contact details in this brochure?’
‘Yes, on the back. You can telephone at any time; someone will always be available. You can’t call him directly, of course, no mobiles allowed to our guests, but there are patient telephones, so he’ll be able to telephone you.’
‘Excellent.’
‘Anything else, miss?’
‘No, I think that covers just about everything.’
Come on, come on. All it would take would be for any member of the medical staff to walk across the hall.
‘Here’s your car, miss. Safe journey.’
‘Thank you. See you tomorrow.’
The hell they would.
As I turned away, he pressed a button on his call set. I guessed it was to tell the gate to let me through. I was so glad I hadn’t just walked out. I’d never have got through the gate. I walked slowly down the steps. An orderly handed me the keys.
‘Thank you. See you soon.’
I climbed in. The car started easily and I trundled slowly down the drive. My heart was thumping a little, but the gates opened for me. No one prevented my leaving. I eased the car out into the road and was away.
Now, I could allow the hot, bitter humiliation to roll over me in waves.
I don’t think so, Dr Maxwell, do you?
I swallowed bitter bile and fled back to St Mary’s. I wanted to be home, to pull the comforting routine around me like an old blanket and bury my head and cry.
I was roused from this unpleasant state of self-pity by a big bump. I’d drifted too far to the side of the road and hit something on the verge. It made me start thinking properly. I wasn’t going to slink, pitiful and sobbing back to St Mary’s. I was going to do what I always did in a catastrophe. I was going to do some damage.