Healing (Part Four)

© 2013 David Jasmin-Green

It was unusually quiet at Banbury View for the next fortnight. Nobody whispered furtively about anyone else within my earshot, even the usual victims had a rest and I heard of no one walking around with invisible knives sticking out of their backs. Sadly though such covert weapons cause no immediate pain. They wreak their extensive, sometimes lethal havoc languorously and in this case officially, and if your own back is the target you're usually the last to know.

It was on a Thursday afternoon in mid April that I was called into the office by Mike Morsey, the home manager. He had a small framed picture of his wife on the desk beside a half empty bottle of Pepsi Max, which he sipped at rather delicately, and on a plastic Rupert Bear plate was a half eaten cheese and pickled onion sandwich that stank the room out. 'Watch your step, buddy,' a little voice in my head told me. 'Rupert Bear is known to be a bit of a bastard, and Pepsi Max is hard stuff – any man who drinks it openly really means business.....' I couldn't read the man's expression as he examined me like a cowardly shark examining a mortally wounded tuna, and if he was capable of reading minds he wouldn't have detected the slightest trace of trepidation in mine because as far as I was concerned I had nothing to hide, I had done nothing wrong and I had bugger all to worry about.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush, Richard,” Morsey said as he looked into my eyes like a snake charmer summing up a de-fanged, emasculated cobra. In my experience that meant that he was going to beat around the bush – in fact he intended to beat around an entire shrubbery for an unreasonable amount of time before he got to the bloody point. “You've been here for just over five months, and apart from a couple of minor incidents all I've received up to now are glowing reports about your work,” he continued blandly. “You interact marvellously with the service users, you're a faultless time keeper, you're eager, conscientious and you put in more effort than certain staff that have been here for years, which is unusual in a case like this – usually there are questions about an individual's ability and desire to undertake all aspects of the job when something like this comes up. In fact until the present situation reared its ugly head I could only describe your work and your attitude as excellent for one with such limited experience.....”

“But?” I said, a trifle impatiently.

“I beg your pardon?” he replied.

“But?” I repeated, because a statement like that is invariably followed by a 'but'. “What's the problem? What's happened?” You're looking at me as if I'm a paedophile with his beady eyes firmly locked on your twelve year old daughter or a steaming pavement pizza that you've accidentally stepped in, so I assume there's a serious 'but' that we need to discuss.”

“Yes,” he said ineffectually (and I hate that quality with a vengeance.) “I'm afraid that a number of serious allegations have been made against you, and we do need to discuss them. At this stage it's just an informal chat, but it's company policy to record everything that's said, I'm sure you understand.”

“Hmmm,” I muttered. “Go ahead, then. What allegations?”

“Have you ever said that you intend to beat up a colleague?” he said, finally finding his confidence and getting into the swing of things.

“Is this a joke?” I said. “Which colleague – what on earth are you talking about? There are three male staff here apart from you and I, and they're all in their twenties or thirties and apart from young Jim they're all bloody huge. Are you insinuating that I intend to beat Jim up, or do you think I'm daft enough to stick one on Paul or Francis and get my tired old head kicked in? Perhaps you think I've got it in for you personally, or maybe I've been accused of threatening to hit a woman.....”

“A member of staff has reported you saying exactly that. At this stage of the investigation I have a number of other staff to interview, and I've only called you in here to monitor your initial response to the allegation. So I repeat, have you ever made a verbal threat to beat up a colleague?”

“No I have not,” I replied. “All I can think is that someone may have overheard me talking about something entirely different and grabbed the wrong end of the stick, I really can't say – but I'm confident that when you continue your investigation this will all be cleared up.”

“Riiiiight,” he said, jotting something down in a notebook. “That's not all, Richard, I'm afraid there are more allegations. Have you ever said to another member of staff that you're obsessed with Meena and you don't know how long you can continue to control yourself in her presence?”

“What? Do you mind repeating that?” So he did, and I fiercely denied it.

“Have you ever said that you masturbate over Meena and you want to throw her on a resident's bed and, erm, have sex with her, but not necessarily in those exact words?” Morsey almost whispered, deeply embarrassed as if the statement actually hurt to utter. “I'm afraid that more than one member of staff claim that you did say that, or words to that effect.”

“No I bloody well haven't,” I snapped, beginning to get a little upset. “I've always treated Meena with the greatest respect. I admit that I like her – I can't help that, but I've never made such comments about her or anyone else. Look, where has all this crap come from? Who's spreading these monstrous lies about me? I demand to know.”

“Richard, I'm not permitted to reveal the identity of the individuals who made these allegations for obvious reasons, you know that,” he said, scribbling something else in his notebook. “As I said, we're just here to record your responses. Now..... Do you have any reason to think that any member or members of staff might bear a grudge against you? Has anything been said that might lead you to believe that?”

“Mike, everyone has treated me kindly since I started working here, and as far as I know no one bears a grudge or dislikes me for any reason. I have no idea what all this is about. Look, you do realise that Easter weekend is just around the corner?”

“What's that got to do with it?”

“You're familiar with the Easter story, aren't you? Or are you one of those people who think Easter is all about fluffy chicks and cute, doe eyed baby bunnies?” Morsey looked at me as if I was crazy and he failed to respond, so I carried on with my tirade. “Easter is about the crucifixion of an innocent to pay for someone else's sins. I don't know where all this is going, but I can have a bloody good guess..... I'm not evangelising and I'm not trying to spread any sort of religious message, I just need to know if you believe that innocent people are sometimes crucified in this cruel world.”

“Yes I do, which is why I'm conducting a full investigation so that you're treated fairly. Now I'll write out a full account of this interview and call you in a little later to read it through and sign it. Two copies will be made, one for your records and one for ours. Is that clear?”

“As clear as crystal. Can I ask you one last thing?”

“Fire away,” he sighed.

“You know if I insisted that you were a lime green Martian who only ate fried eggs and beef dumplings and enjoyed flicking peanuts at shrews, would that automatically be a true statement?”

“No, it wouldn't.”

“If I somehow roped in another individual to substantiate my patently ridiculous claim or rounded up a hundred or even a thousand people to back me up, would the statement be any truer or would it still be a barefaced lie?”

“Obviously it would remain a lie,” he said. “Richard, I'm not out to crucify you, believe me. I'm making these investigations as honestly and fairly as possible..... This interview is now over.”