school photos 31

Patricia jingled the ward keys on the chain before selecting the right one to let Janine out. There was a certain irony in that. She’d been the charge nurse that I’d first met when I’d been sectioned and locked up. Somehow because of her big-boned putty smell, pea head inside a haircut- like-black helmet, and the tight fawn slacks she favoured, I thought of her as being American, a quarter-back, out on furore and getting the razz on some real life experiences. Then I heard her speaking and it was obvious she was from a different planet, one circling the underground Govan line.   I wasn’t sure what Janine’s big plan was, how she was going to track me round her and outside into the grounds. I wasn’t far away, within spitting distance of the nurses’ station, leaning against the muted colours of the wood panelling  and trying to look inconspicuous, which made me stand out even more, like a banana in a packet of Wotsits. But crazy people were allowed to stand out, if they didn’t stand out there was something wrong with them. Patricia briefly glanced at me to assess the situation. Knowing she could take me out with one arm made her slack. After unlocking the door, taking a step and letting it hit the black rubber stop she held it tightly open, leaving a thin space for Janine to leave. I didn’t hear what my fellow patient said to her, but they both looked across at me and Janine strolled towards me.  She took one hand in hers then the other and pecked me on the lips. Her arms went round my neck and she pulled me down and whispered in my ear, ‘remember what I told you’. Her next kiss was more forceful. She skittered along the corridor towards the exit with me pulled whirling in her wake.

            ‘For God sake, gee that a break.’ Our charge nurse sounded squeamish, but more amused than upset.

            The closer to the door the more passionately Janine kissed me. I thought her plan might have included using my hard-on as a battering ram to help us escape. She let go of me at the door, our plan stalling and breaking down. Patricia held her stomach in to let Janine pass, but she teetered on the threshold. The pull of my attraction seemed too much for her. She closed her eyes spun me round and started smooching me again, walking me backwards. I stumbled as she shoved me backwards and pushed me through the doors.

            ‘Push-off. Run,’ she cried. It was the kind of efficient voice that belonged in the wards of maternity- delivery suites, not a psychiatric unit. There was no arguing with her. I legged it through the cloakroom and the double doors and into the grounds.

            Janine scrambled out behind me, the doors swinging and flapping shut behind her. She was laughing so much she could hardly walk. Low sunshine sparkled and shone on the acres of grass and filled my lungs with longing for its musty-green aroma.  Taking my hand we made our getaway like two drunks tagged together, past the twinkling lights of other windows, graveyards of other wards.  We were caught between two seasons. The trees in the ground had lost their rustle and it was cold enough for sleet or snow. The wind whipped behind us and after being shut inside the Mediterranean heat box for so long, and only having a thin t-shirt on, I began to shiver. The tarmac path curved down the hill towards Great Western Road or Hyndland station like a child’s drawing of a lazy-s and leaf mould clogged our feet. A sleety rain began dampening our mood still further.

            ‘Where are we goin’?’ I asked, teeth chittering.

            ‘Back to mine.’

 We squished along through the damp dog-shit cover of leaves lying on the bottom lane of the hospital. Two storey houses on the other side of the rusting fence helped act as a windbreak. Janine opened her coat out and we clung together until we got to the low-stone- wall of the pond, ducks hiding among the reeds, the chill of the water sucking away our breath. I tugged myself away from her warm body, letting her gather her coat, button it up to her neck and conserve heat.  Now we were leaving the hospital ground I felt it safe to ask, ‘whit do you think they’ll dae now?’

She kept walking, her pace quickening, now she no longer had me as an ankle-brace. ‘They’ll do what they usually do.’ Her voice held no rancour. ‘They’ll do nothing and hope it’ll turn out alright, but they’ll be shiting themselves and working out a story about who to blame and how it wasn’t anybody’s fault.’

I tried to laugh but it was too cold. ‘Will they no’ go to your house right away lookin’ for you?’

She stopped to answer, looking round at me clutching my arms together to keep in the heat, on the broad pavement outside The Pond Hotel. Her voice was level. ‘They’ll not be looking for me. They’ll be looking for you.’

It took me a second to realise what she was talking about. ‘Whit will Ah dae then, should I go back?’

‘You’re just out. And you want to go back.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Stop apologising.’

I nodded in agreement, drinking in traffic fumes as the traffic lights turned green and cars scooted by me.

‘I’ll just nip in here and make a phone call. Let them know the lay of the land. Tell them that you were feeling a bit homesick and you’ll only be away for a few hours. They’ll like that. “Home visit” will already be sketched down on some bit of paper, some form, ready to be an official entry on your care plan as if they’ve thought it was a good idea and authorised it, or torn out and binned. They’ll not want to contact the police, just yet, cause then they’ll feel stupid. Whatever you do don’t ever make them feel stupid. Cause they always get their own back on you.’

‘Aye.’ I hadn’t listened to half of what she said. Snow started drifting in, gathering in my hair. ‘Can you just hurry up, so we can go somewhere.’

 ‘We’ll go in here. I’ll make that phone call. Back to mine. Then…’   Her eyes shone.

I grunted assent before she finished speaking, could imagine what would come next and imagined the unimaginable, not of the sex, but just getting heated up.

‘…Then we can go and see this little girl you keep talking about.’ She smiled showing her teeth. ‘Perfect conditions.’      

She made it seem like going for a game of golf. But I nodded and would have agreed to anything.