A Note of Madness (19 page)

‘Oh God, Harry, what’s going on?’

‘I think you and Kate had better go.’ Harry had his eyes on Flynn and did not turn round.

‘I’m not getting violent!’ Flynn shouted. ‘That’s only a phone, isn’t it? It’s a machine, it doesn’t have feelings! Did it hurt you? Did I throw it at you? D’you think I’m going to hurt Jennah, is that why you want her to go?’

Jennah came in and quietly closed the door. She approached him slowly, arms by her sides. ‘I know you’d never hurt me, Flynn. I know you’d never hurt anybody.
But why are you getting so angry, hey? We’re all your friends here, we all care about you, we hate to see you so upset.’ Her eyes were huge with concern, her face white.

Flynn stopped, leaning against the wall, breathing hard. He had ruined the evening, ruined his friendships, ruined everything. If he kept on going, he could ruin it all. Tomorrow would never come . . . He turned from them both, went over to the window and flung it open.

The evening breeze felt cool on his face, the sky was made up of shades of inky blue, the branches tinged with silver in the moonlight. He couldn’t think any more, couldn’t be. All he could do was shout, hurt, destroy. He wanted only to break down this interminable life, this excruciating existence, and shut out all the pain . . .

As he swung his legs over the windowsill, he heard Jennah scream.

Harry’s hands grabbed him by the shoulders, dragging him backwards, down off the sill and onto the living-room floor. His head banged against a table leg. Harry gasped and grunted, wrestling him hard.

‘Get off, get off!’ Flynn yelled.

‘Stop it! I’m going to punch you if you don’t stop it!’ Harry was shouting.

‘Leave me alone, just leave me alone!’ Harry had him pinned down with all his weight, and Jennah was sitting on his legs. He was nailed to the ground, cheek pressed against the carpet.

‘Get off me!’ Flynn raged. ‘Let me go!’

‘Kate, use the phone in the kitchen – that one’s broken!’ Harry shouted.

‘What? Where? Who do I call – the police?’

‘Speed dial seven, ask to speak to his brother, Rami. Tell him to come straight away.’

‘No!’ Flynn yelled.

Harry shifted his weight a little and Flynn tried to shove him off. Harry swore at him and sat on his back.

Kate returned a moment later. ‘He’s on his way,’ she said shrilly. ‘He said he was on call in north London so he wouldn’t be long.’

Flynn struggled as hard as he could, gasping and grunting.

‘Are you sure you’re not hurting him?’ Kate whispered.

‘I don’t care if I am!’

‘What happened?’

‘He’s just being an idiot. Close that window, Kate.’ Harry’s voice shook.

There was the sound of the window closing.

‘Are you OK, Jen?’ Harry’s voice again.

No reply.

‘Jen?’

A muffled sob.

‘His brother’s a doctor,’ Harry said. ‘He’ll know what to do.’

Sometime later the doorbell went. Kate’s feet went to get it, Kate’s feet returned with Rami’s.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ Rami demanded.

‘They won’t let me go!’ Flynn yelled. ‘Get them off me, Rami, get them off me!’

‘Hold on, old chap. What on earth’s going on, Harry?’

Whispering voices. ‘Get off me!’ Flynn raged.

More whispers. Then Rami’s hand on the back of his head, Rami’s face leaning down, wide-eyed, sweaty, a little out of breath.

‘OK, listen, mate. I’m going to ask them to get off you on one condition. That you sit up and
only
sit up, not stand. If you stand up then both Harry and I will knock you to the floor and we’ll have to start all over again.’

‘Why?’ Flynn yelled. ‘Why?’

‘It’s for your own good. Now is that a deal?’

Flynn felt as if he were choking, desperate to get the weight off him. ‘OK, OK!’

‘I need you to promise, Flynn.’

‘I promise!’

Rami straightened up and, a moment later, Flynn felt the weight lift from his back and legs. He struggled to get up but Rami held his wrist, pinning his hand to the carpet. Flynn threw himself backwards, banging his head repeatedly against the wall until Harry grabbed his shoulders to stop him.

‘Leave me alone! Why can’t you all just leave me alone?’ Flynn screamed at them.

Rami was giving instructions to Jennah to find something in his medical bag.

‘What are you doing?’ Flynn yelled at him.

Rami was tearing something open with his teeth. ‘I’m just going to give you a small shot.’

‘You’ve got to be joking!’

‘Nothing horrid, just to help you calm down,’ Rami said, taking out a needle.

‘No way! Get off me, I’ll kill you!’ He tried to get to his feet but, in an instant, Rami was behind him, pulling back his arms, forcing him onto his knees.

‘Harry, grab his arm! Here, here, this one! Keep your hand still, Flynn, otherwise we’ll have to pin you down again. I mean it!’

Flynn twisted his neck and looked desperately up at Harry, towering above him, his knee pressing against Flynn’s back. Harry bit his lip and looked away. They had gone mad, all of them. They were ganging up on him. This was Harry’s revenge and Rami was helping him. They must hate him, they must hate him so much. As he felt Rami grab his wrist, he let his head fall to his knees. The needle went in. It hurt, life hurt. He had failed. He wanted everything to end.

A long moment seemed to pass. The only sound was his own ragged breathing. He didn’t lift his head from his knees. Maybe if he sat still for long enough it would all go away.

‘OK, listen, this is what we’re going to do,’ Rami said at last. ‘You’re going to come downstairs, get into
the car with me and we’re going to drive back to Watford.’

Flynn lifted his head. ‘No!’ he began to protest.

‘Actually, Flynn, this is not open to discussion. If you won’t come back with me, I’ll have to take you to hospital.’

‘I’m not going to hospital,’ he said desperately. ‘You can’t make me! Just let go of me, just leave me alone!’ He tried to pull away, but his arms felt weak.

‘Flynn, if we call an ambulance, they’ll section you.’

‘Why? They can’t do that! They can’t!’

‘They can and they will because right now you’re a danger to yourself.’

Flynn put his forehead back on his knees and bit his thumb hard. He just wished he could go back in time to before the argument, before the dinner, before Rami’s phone call, before this morning’s practice. How could the events of one day have ended in this?

‘Don’t call an ambulance,’ he whispered.

‘Are you going to come back to Watford with me?’

He nodded. Defeated.

The sides of the car were closing in. Flynn gripped the door handle as Rami drove on regardless.

‘What is it now?’ Rami asked.

‘This car is going to crash.’

‘No, it’s not, we’re perfectly safe,’ Rami replied evenly. ‘I’m a very good driver.’

‘Can’t you see that the sides are buckling?’

‘They’re not, you’re just imagining things. Look outside, look at the lights, focus on the lights.’

Flynn pressed his forehead against the window and watched the streets flash by in a haze of orange lampposts, brightly lit restaurant interiors, blinding headlights and warm yellow windows. He unfocused his eyes, allowing the lights to blur like colours on a Catherine wheel.

Rami’s house looked unfamiliar in the dark. He could not get out of the car.

‘There’s something wrong with my legs.’

‘It’s just the sedative. Come on, stand up – lock your knees.’

With a concentrated effort, Flynn pulled himself out of the car. The ground tilted dangerously.

‘I’m going to fall, you know.’

‘No, you’re not, lean on me.’

Sophie looked startled to see them. ‘I thought you were working very late tonight,’ she said with a surprised smile. ‘I was about to go to bed. Hello, Flynn, I haven’t seen
you
for a while. Are you all right? You look—’

‘Slight change of plan, Soph,’ Rami said quickly. ‘Flynn’s not very well – I’m going to take him upstairs.’

Sophie shot Rami an alarmed, questioning look. Flynn sagged against the banisters. The walls were shaky here too. But Rami’s hand was on his shoulder, propelling him up the stairs.

The guest room was canary yellow with daisies painted above the skirting board. They had bought matching curtains since Flynn had seen it last. He sat on the edge of the crisp sheet and put his head in his hands. Once in this position, he felt himself begin to tip forwards and had to put a hand on the carpet to stop himself from falling to the floor. ‘Jesus, Rami, you’ve knocked me out,’ he heard himself slur.

‘I think you needed to be knocked out for a bit,’ Rami said. ‘Come on, get into bed.’

‘I can’t.’

He felt Rami pull off his trainers. ‘Come on, you can do the rest. I’m going downstairs to see Sophie. I’ll be up in a minute, OK?’

Flynn managed to nod and rolled onto his back as he heard Rami close the door. He stared up at the ceiling and slowly realized that for the first time in ages he was not thinking about very much at all. There were just two things he had to do – get undressed and get into bed. With heavy hands he unzipped his jeans. Kicking them off took an eternity and getting beneath the covers without actually standing up again was another monumental task. His body sank into the mattress; bed had never felt so good. But as he let his eyes close he felt the walls approaching. For a moment he could not reopen his eyes and terror flooded through him. As canary yellow filled his vision once again, relief descended.

Rami returned. ‘Would you like a hot drink and would you like Sophie to make you a sandwich?’ he asked.

Flynn shook his head.

‘Are you sure?’

Flynn shook his head again. ‘The walls here aren’t very strong,’ he mumbled.

‘Don’t start on that again. You know it’s just in your mind,’ Rami said quietly.

Flynn rolled onto his side and rubbed his eyes. ‘Don’t go.’

Rami shot him a look. ‘Come on, you’re exhausted and I’ve got to get up at seven. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘You’ve paralysed me.’ His voice shook.

Rami smiled slightly. ‘I haven’t
paralysed
you. You’re just reacting strongly to the drug because you haven’t slept properly for days.’

‘Don’t go,’ Flynn said again.

Rami sighed deeply and gave him a small smile. ‘OK, let me get my newspaper and say goodnight to Sophie.’

Rami returned some time later carrying a small desk lamp, a mug and the newspaper. He plugged in the lamp, switched off the overhead light and sat against the wall, spreading the paper out over his knees. Then he looked up. ‘Why are you still awake, matey?’

‘I don’t sleep any more,’ Flynn whispered.

‘Closing your eyes would be a good start.’

Despite his heavy lids, it did not appeal. The darkness held terrors, the walls would start approaching again.

‘Rami?’

Rami lowered his paper and looked up. ‘Mm?’

‘I’m so sick of it.’ He felt his throat constrict.

‘I know. Things got too much. Sometimes that happens.’

‘Not the concert – everything.’

‘You’re not well, Flynn. Don’t worry about it now, we’ll sort it out in the morning.’

‘But I’ve really had enough.’ It hurt to talk.

‘Come on, you’re exhausted,’ Rami said. ‘Things always seem worse at night. Just try and get some sleep.’ His face looked drawn, his eyes worried and weary.

Flynn watched him as he returned to his paper and the contours of his face began to dance and fade. The bright yellow bulb of the desk lamp started to retreat like a setting sun. He knew his eyes were closing but he no longer had the strength or the inclination to stop them.

This is peace, he thought. This is the suspension of life, of feeling, of being. I have missed it so much.

FLYNN HAD NO
idea how long he had been lying there, staring at the bright glow of the yellow curtains before realizing he was awake. It took him several more minutes to work out where he was and what he was doing there and to remember that today was the day of the concert and that yesterday something had happened that filled his brain with a deep, painful fog, causing his eyes to close and his thoughts to grind to a halt. Despite the strong feeling that he had been asleep for a very long time, he felt strangely weary and empty. He could tell that, behind the closed curtains, the sun was already high in the sky. He sensed that there was a lot to do – practise, a final run-through with the orchestra and, although he did not even know what time it was, it did not really seem to matter. He needed to pee, but getting out of bed would mean starting his day and he did not feel ready for that, not yet.

It was faintly reassuring to know that, beyond those curtains, people were rushing about, already well into their daily activities, while he was just lying here, still foggy with sleep, choosing to delay the point when he
made the transition from night to day. His senses were still pleasantly numbed by his long night and for the moment he didn’t care about very much at all. It seemed absurdly wasteful to be lying here when it was already so late and there was clearly so much to do, yet he continued to do just that, letting his eyes move slowly around the edges of the room, thinking how calm and uncluttered and peaceful it was.

Morning sunshine filled the kitchen like a scene from a family film, lighting up the beech cupboards and sparkling against the Formica. Sophie stood at the sink, broad-hipped and no-nonsense in black trousers and a floral blouse. She turned as the door hinge creaked, and smiled broadly, her auburn hair scraped back into a pony tail, her face pink and cheerful, her large collection of silver bangles jangling against her wrists. Rami had met her at Watford General four years ago. To this day, she was the only person in the world whose opinion seemed to matter to him.

‘Hi, Flynn! Come in and have some breakfast.’

He struggled to meet her gaze, trying to banish thoughts of the night before, faintly horrified at the idea of what she must think of him. ‘It’s OK, I’m not really hungry.’

‘Come and have some juice then. Sit down anyway.’

He got himself over to the kitchen table and sat, at a loss for anything better to do. She looked at him and his heart started to beat faster. He wanted to go back
upstairs but it was too late – now he was trapped and there was no sign of Rami.