Julia chapter 6 contd

Even Geoffrey might suffer her wrath now it was known he had become entangled with Brian. 

Her mind drifted back to the room and she told herself to stop. 

Lilly had said to her on more than one occasion ‘your problem is that you think too much.’ She was right, but how to stop?  

As Lilly had come into her mind she decided that she would visit her. She’d only visited her once since coming home and she had promised not to forget her. So gathering up a few essentials, phone, purse, tablets, handbag she left the house, glad to be rid of its oppressively empty interior.  The knickers and washing up could wait.

 

It was so long since she had been on a bus that she had forgotten how much they rolled upstairs.  That and the medication formed a fatal combination and combined to leave her with nausea similar to seasickness that hung around her from the bus stop to the entrance to the psychiatric ward.  She pressed the button on the door, it buzzed like a bottle-trapped bee and then a voice answered,  ‘Arthur Wellesley ward can I help you?’

‘I’ve come to visit Lilly Miller.’  Julia knew the drill, no one was allowed in or out without good reason after all you couldn’t have the ‘mad’ patients escaping.  Most were voluntary residents but some were sectioned. 

‘Visiting hours are between four and six in the afternoon’ came the reply.

‘Shit!’ She knew that, but had forgotten in the fog that dimmed her head.

‘Is there any chance I could see Lilly, it’s very important?’  She was lying but hoped they would not spot the deception.

‘I’m sorry but we can’t help you, we have a shortage of staff today.’  Staffing levels thought Julia, yes that would have to be the reason, not that the nurses couldn’t be fagged to be helpful.  She was in no state to argue, it was too tiring.

‘Ok, I’ll be back.’ She had momentarily thought of putting on an Arnie Swarzenager accent but knew they wouldn’t get it if she did.

 

The hospital was on the outskirts of town so she decided to get the bus back, spend the day mooching, perhaps going to the library or the local arts centre and then returning later.  Another nauseous ride and she was back in the main street.  It could have been any town anywhere, all the usual shops, the same coffee outlets, the betting offices, the charity shops, everything at first floor level was corporate logo’s and glass; it was only if you looked up you could see the dying remnants of the old architecture that once gave the town some character. 

The world was becoming uniform, standardized, clinically conformist, just like its inhabitants.

She remembered the High Street from thirty years before, the greengrocer, the bakers, the fish shop, the butchers, even an ironmongers.  Each had it’s individual style, its unique window display.  Now it was all mobile phones, trainers and sports clothing advertising the corporate brand.  Perhaps she was alone in missing the ghastly smell of the fish shop as you walked by, or the delicious aroma of fresh baked bread, the rabbits hung in a row above the un-plucked pheasants outside the butchers.  There was a raw honest quality about things then.  Nowadays everything needed to be sanitized, packaged, and pristine. 

 

On the corner where the ironmongers had been there was a travel agent with posters advertising last minute trips at discounted rates.  Julia never looked in travel agents windows. She and Michael booked online if they ever went anywhere but for some reason she did look that morning. Essaouira-Morocco 7 nights £550.  Essaouira! Jesus, that brought back memories.  Before she went ‘missing’ in the desert as a teenager she had spent a few fantastic days in Essaouira swimming in the sea, eating freshly caught fish, being fondled by an outrageously flirtatious local and listening to the wild Arab music whose rhythms spoke of sun and joy and freedom.  She stared at the handwritten poster, it was bright yellow with thick red felt tip writing.  To anyone who hadn’t been there it would have meant nothing, but to Julia it was a sudden ray of hope. 

Essaouira!

That is where she wanted to be, not in England with its dull conformity its oppressive self loathing, she wanted to be in the harbour with the bobbing blue fishing boats, walking the sea wall at midnight, riding on camels in the heat of the sun. She wanted colour and sea and sand and people who were still alive to the smell of fish and dung and each other.  She wanted to taste reality through this pharmaceutical fog, if she was going to be dulled out of her head then she might as well smoke a joint and enjoy it.  

 

The plan, foggy though it was, developed over a latte.  She had kept back her redundancy money.  Michael was not aware of it because events had overridden their usual discussions about finance. Under normal circumstances Michael would have earmarked the cheque for some boring purpose or another. As he knew nothing about it and as he was now seeing someone else she felt no reason to share the windfall with him. Instead she would share it with Lilly. Lilly would be her companion on an adventure to Morocco!

Sun, sea, and camel dung, what more could anyone want.

The thought of returning to that part of the world thirty years on didn’t seem at all strange. In her heart she was still a teenager, still able to believe that anything was possible if she could only throw off the diving suit and reach the sunlight.  She had to hold on to that belief or spend the rest of her days tangled in the wreck. She would find out if Lilly had a passport, book two tickets and help her make her escape from the hospital ward. It was in this moment of elation that she glanced out into the street and to her confusion saw Michael, except it wasn’t Michael because he was laughing and in the arms of a pretty girl who shared his obvious joy.  She was young and smartly dressed and they looked happily into one another’s eyes.  Julia couldn’t take her eyes off them.  Her mind was racing, on the one hand telling her that ‘her’ Michael was a few yards away and on the other hand that ‘her’ Michael was not hers any more and belonged to someone else. A hollow cloud of despair crept over her as the reality of his words echoed in her head ‘I was going to leave it a while to tell you, but as the house isn’t selling you need to know that I’ve met someone. I want to move on Julia…’

 

The day went downhill from that point on.  The plug had been pulled, her resilience gurgled down the drain. 

All she could do was to keep repeating ‘hold on Julia, hold on.’ 

Why did it affect her so much? She thought she had come to terms with the separation.  She hadn’t foolishly believed they would get back together, not after the breakdown.  When he told her on the phone she took it on the chin and only vaguely felt a sense of betrayal. 

It was seeing them together, it was their happiness, the look on their faces, the knowledge that they were going somewhere and she was not.  This was what hurt.  As her life seemed to be slipping down a funnel, his was expanding, accumulating, recharging.  Was it jealousy? Did she feel jealous of Michael or was it just sheer frustration that things had gone so badly wrong and she was to blame?

‘You’ll get your comeuppance my girl!’

Oh that voice, there it was again. Like a snake in the rock waiting for the moment to strike, her mother’s words lay in the shadows ready to pick her off at vulnerable moments.

‘One day Michael will have had enough of your selfishness.’ 

Another one stuck its fangs in her. She had a whole catalogue of sayings, one for every occasion, lodged in the ‘lets make Julia feel bad’ compartment of the brain.  Once one came out then the rest followed tumbling like rocks in a landfall.  Julia tried her best to avoid getting struck down but it took all of her energy.

The day dragged on until the afternoon when she went back to the hospital.  The place hadn’t changed at all, it was clinically functional, in shades of grey and blue.  Modern but bland was an apt description.   Julia walked down the main corridor to the day room in search of Lilly.  Apart from two patients who sat watching afternoon TV there was no one about.  Julia smiled at them but they were absorbed in a quiz show. 

‘Can I help you?’ The nurse had arrived without a sound and Julia was surprised to see her.

‘Yes, I’m looking for Lilly.’

‘Lilly Miller?’ asked the nurse.

‘Yes that’s right.’

‘Lilly isn’t with us any longer’ replied the nurse without further explanation.

Julia felt the shock of the nurses words jar her thoughts.

‘Where is she?’ she asked.

‘She discharged herself two days ago.’

‘Where did she go?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you, we aren’t able to disclose patients personal details.’ 

‘But I need to get in touch with her.’ 

‘I’m sorry but I can’t really help you.’

‘But there must be some way…?’ 

The nurse looked Julia straight in the eyes, she was used to difficult people and was not phased by Julia’s insistence.

‘I can’t help you dear, it’s not possible.’  She used the word ‘dear’ in order to placate Julia, but it arrived as no more than a patronizing adjective.  Julia walked away as the audience on the TV show erupted, someone had won the jackpot.

 

How do you find someone who has gone missing?  Julia ought to know.  She had been hovering around the edges of the law for years in her job as a court artist. She thought of the telephone directory, but nowadays it was more or less defunct for those under forty.  All younger adults had mobiles and they weren’t listed.  She thought of Social Services, but knew that they would be as tight lipped as the nurse.  She wracked her brains to think of things Lilly had told her about her life. Places she might go, people she knew, things she did, but it was hopelessly empty.  She knew virtually nothing about her ‘friend’ and she realized that their friendship was based on the moment, sharing a joke, a cigarette, being members of the Lobotomy Club. 

That was it. They didn’t need to know the ins and outs of each other lives to find some companionship and that was what was remarkable about the whole thing. There she was at fifty something and there Lilly was at twenty something and yet they gelled.

Lilly was Julia at twenty something.  She would have had the piercings, she would have had the tattoos if she had been born into that generation, and she probably would have used the drugs that Lilly used.  That was perhaps the one personal thing she did know about Lilly that she had been addicted to cocaine. Lilly showed her arms one day and above the slashes and the damaged butterfly she saw the remnants of the needle marks.  Julia did not press her for details, there was no need, it was Lilly’s personal journey and she did not need to intrude on it.

‘Not pretty eh’ said Lilly adding ‘my arms.’  Julia just squeezed her hand gently and softly joked.

‘You won’t be getting a job modeling for the foreseeable future.’

Julia realized that it would be pure luck if she ever found her friend again. Her one regret was imagining that whenever she deigned to appear at the hospital Lilly would be waiting for her. Even though they weren’t allowed mobiles on the ward why hadn’t she given her a telephone number, why hadn’t she given her an address? Told her to call around if she decided to leave? 

She’d just assumed Lilly would be hanging around forever in that limbo land of the Lobotomy Club when she had no reason to do so. 

Lilly had become another thing to add to her list of lost property.  God she was good at losing things nowadays.