Guilty (6 page)

5.

“Auntie Caroline felt a bit put out as she sat on one of the chocolate-brown leather sofas. Uncle Simon sat on the opposite one. The fire was set but not lit; apparently the lunch was a little behind schedule. Dad was taking his time in offering them a sherry and Sadie and I had yet to make an appearance, which I thought was all a bit rude on Sadie’s part, she could have at least faked being excited by their visit by rushing down to greet them. Bri and Oliver sat cross-legged on the rug, expectantly eyeing the parcels still left under the tree.

‘Some welcome, this,’ she mouthed to Simon, in case Dad could hear them from the kitchen.

‘We make such a long journey for this!’ she continued her moaning. ‘Where the hell is Sadie?’

Oliver and Bri were getting restless and started poking each other and telling tales about each other.

‘We’re bored,’ Bri shouted, as Sadie slithered into the room.

Simon jumped up, hugging her close to him.

‘Well, take a look at you. Quite the lady of the house! You’ve shot up in the month.’

‘Bet there are a few broken hearts in this town,’ Caroline tried to join in the light-hearted banter. It was obvious she was disappointed by Sadie’s greeting. I knew it was all part of Sadie’s scheming nature. This way Auntie Caroline would feel indebted to her. I could hear it all from the hallway.

Mum and Dad went in, Mum bearing a tray of canapés and Dad with some matches.

‘I’ll just light the fire. Josh will be down in a moment. So great to be all together again. Took us a bit by surprise then. Della was a bit behind.’

The door opened once more and I jerkily walked in. Caroline and Simon didn’t mean to be rude, to stare, but the transformation! A white-faced skeleton had overtaken the chubby, round-faced Josh. Surely this wasn’t me! Was I ill, was it just an adolescent growing spurt, but those strained features, the soulless eyes just staring at them vacantly . . . Where was the smile? The lad used to always be smiling. Caroline and Simon quickly exchanged glances. Was this something you commented on or something to be skimmed over?

‘Can’t believe it’s a year since we saw Josh,’ Simon took the lead.

‘No,’ Caroline helped out. ‘A whole year. He wasn’t here when we dropped Sadie off. Wow!’

‘He will have been,’ Sadie was quick to pipe up. ‘He never goes out, probably hiding in his room.’ Mum noticed how I wiped my hand down the back of my trousers after each handshake but thankfully the others seemed oblivious.

‘Oh, prawns,’ Caroline continued. ‘I remember those were your favourite last year Josh. Here take a couple.’

She guided the tray towards me.

Mum saw me retch at the thought, disguising it with a cough. She noticed my little facial tic, the two twitches of my nose, and a quick nod of my head to ward off more threatening thoughts. She saw through the disguise as I pretended it was an itch!

I started on the questions which she now recognised. The ones I had to ask to fend off my demons. I’d invented the belief system that whenever anybody entered the house they had to answer yes to at least six questions. It had taken Mum quite a while to crack that one. At first she’d been delighted, thinking the old sociable me was making a comeback but then she’d tuned in to the repetiveness of the questions, the urgency to get an answer with no genuine interest shown by any of my body language.

It was a bit like doing cryptic crosswords – she had got the hang of me now. While the rest of the family did not notice, she had learnt to analyse every action. She’d come to recognise so many of my secret rituals. Some of my clothes, odd socks, maybe my school tie, had to be left at certain spots around the house. She could bet her bottom dollar that there would be a hanky behind the sofa right now.

Sadie and Dad were always so happy to dominate the telly anyhow so they had not noticed that I refused to touch the remote in case it was covered in germs.

She was still furious with me. She knew it wasn’t medically correct to be angry with me but I was driving her mad. This nonsense had to be broken. She saw her chance.

‘Boys,’ she faced Oli and Bri. ‘I expect you are bored listening to all us adults chatting. Josh will put the telly on for you and we’ll gather in the kitchen while the lunch cooks.’

She passed the remote directly to me, forcing it into my palm. As if in slow motion the whole room turned to stare as an animal-like screech squealed from me. The remote clattered to the floor as I wiped my hands up and down my trousers. I ran out. Mum had been convinced my social graces would have overridden my fear.

Silence. Everybody was desperately thinking of a suitable follow-on, something to dilute the situation. Sadie was expert at diverting attention away from this sideshow of a cousin.

‘Toothache. Been moaning about it all morning. Comes in waves. Must have got a massive jolt just then. Agony. I’ll go get him some Nurofen.’

Nobody was fooled but all were thankful that they could pretend normality again.

On hold, to go to the kitchen or to stay in the lounge – that was the question. Mum was livid. I had ruined the visit already.

Sadie was becoming increasingly cunning, manipulating Mum and Dad, making herself so at home in our house. Mum was sick of treading on eggshells, accommodating my latest fetish. She felt like a robot, awaiting her next set of instructions. Just who was her master, though? Should she run after me, play the perfect hostess back in the lounge or just do what she felt like doing – buggering off and leaving the lot of us to it?

She found herself straightening her apron, checking the beef and then going into the lounge as if everything was perfectly normal.

She picked up the empty canapé tray.

‘Mark, dear, please could you come through and carve the meat? Everything will be served up in about five minutes. Sadie, please take your parents’ bags up to their rooms.’

‘Where’s Josh?’ she hurriedly whispered, as Sadie obediently went to her task.

Caroline and Simon exchanged big grins. They thought Della and Mark were working miracles. If only they could all see through Sadie like I could.

‘Dunno, gave him the Nurofen and not seen him since.’

‘You didn’t give him the box, did you?’ she shrieked in panic.

‘Auntie,’ Sadie again used a tone to suggest she was flapping.

‘He’s not a baby, Aunt. Yes, he took the box.’

Mum’s stomach lurched. The whole box! Had Sadie no sense of responsibility? What was she thinking? I didn’t even have toothache! Why would I want/need a box of Nurofen?

The mobile in her pocket notified the arrival of a text. Within a flash she was reading her message, one word ‘traitor’. The sender, me!

It was her turn now. She slammed the tray down. It skimmed across the wooden floor, hitting the bottom stair where it shattered. Simon popped his head out of the lounge.

‘Everything okay?’ he beamed.

‘Sadie will explain. She’s good at that.’ She took the stairs, two at a time, hurling herself down on their bed, after first bolting the door.

‘Della, Della!’ Mark’s voice boomed up the stairs.

‘Where’s the electric knife?’

Her phone pinged one more time, monosyllabic again.

‘Bye.’

6.

“What a start to the New Year! A police search, an overdosed teenager in intensive care. An aunt, uncle and two cousins returned home, their presence no longer suitable, a wife demanding a divorce, another cousin given free rein, a husband completely gobsmacked. How had things gone so completely wrong in one day?

Who could help? Where could they start?

The old clock ticked loudly in the silent house – nobody to hear it. Does a clock really make a sound when there is nobody to hear it? Would my problems continue to grow if I was robbed of an audience?

The family had splintered. Who was there to pull it together? Mum was too distraught to visit me. She was out of it completely. She wasn’t sure where she was. There were crisp, white linen sheets smelling of lavender.

Sadie had gone to stay at a mate’s and was in denial that any of this was her fault. Maybe she was right? Still don’t know why Caroline and Simon hadn’t taken her back then.

Social workers, mental health workers, school, friends, family – all like little ants – an army working together to achieve stability.

Mum was aware of the motion of things; somebody had assured her about all this. She could recall it was a woman’s voice. She felt like she was drowning. She closed her eyes and saw a vision of ants carrying an apple core back to their nest. I was being borne by all the professionals supporting me but could they heal me? Would their brew of drugs further disguise my inner turmoil? Every child matters – yes, I did matter to them all but was I mendable? How had her beautiful boy got so broken in the first place? How had her family crumbled so badly, so rapidly?

The door opened and a pair of arms gently raised her on the pillow, propping her forward as the hands then gently plumped up the cushions. A glass was lifted to her lips and she was gently coaxed to “Sip”.

She tried to focus. Caroline was sat by her side holding the glass. Della managed her first word since her collapse.

‘How?’

‘Rest, Della. You should have told us. You know what they say, a trouble shared is a trouble halved. We could have helped before it got to this. I insisted on bringing you back here with us so I could nurse you for a bit. We of all people would have understood. We have been to so many depths with Sadie and you were helping us out.’

Mum lay back on the feather pillows trying to understand all of this. It would never have entered their heads to open up to Caroline and Simon of all people. Mum had always been quite snobby, patronisingly helping them with Sadie but Caroline sounded quite genuine now. Maybe it was time for Mum to drop her pride and admit that she had just as big a problem with me as they did with Sadie!

‘Simon is going to help Mark come to terms with Josh’s problems, to support you. We’ll get you and Mark strong again.’

Caroline obviously believed she had some sort of magic wand. She made it all sound so easy. She, above anybody, should have known that such glib words, though kindly meant, could not begin to paper over the cracks. How could she be so ignorant? They’d spent months working with a clinical psychologist; this was nothing a quick helping hand could resolve.

A squeeze of the hand came next, a pat on her shoulder. ‘I’ll leave you a bit longer and then I’ll bring you some toast up, now you have come round a bit.’

Mum lay there planning her escape. This was vile, trapped in this little doll’s house, playing patient to Caroline in her latest craze – the life-saving nurse. The roles had nightmarishly reversed. Della was in this family to help Caroline with her troublesome daughter. Della was the one who always coped. What would her in-laws, Estelle and Charles, think of her if they knew the truth?

They had moved me to a main ward now I was physically out of danger while they assessed me to see where to send me next.

I lay there wondering how she was. They said she was ill. My compulsions hadn’t saved her. The excessive washing, excessive cleaning, the counting, the straightening had failed to stop my worst obsession happening. Would she die? The fear of this brought in more severe intrusive images, distressing me further. It was difficult, confined in this hospital bed, to carry out any of my usual compulsions to try to neutralise the obsessions.

I’d always had an obsession with numbers, feelings that they had significance to my destiny. Five and a multiple of five had always seemed to bring me relief. This was serious, Mum too ill to visit me after all that had happened to me. Wild horses would not usually have kept her away. Desperate measures were called for. 5000 would surely bring her here, 5000 switches on and off of the toilet light switch. I knew in my present state it would be very exhausting, the concentration I would need to ensure it was exactly 5000. It would take ages but I had decided on 5000 and somehow I knew it was the thing I needed to start to put things right.

At least everybody seemed to be working on the same jigsaw puzzle – I had to get going again, take my normal place in family and society and carry on. School was on the agenda, not just because it was important times with my GCSEs but because I had to participate in normal life.

Caroline discovered the empty white sheets at the same moment Mum finally made it to the hospital. Bad timing really, as she arrived to the sound of the start of the 5000 clicks. Reassurance sped through my veins – I had been so right to obey this compulsion – it had brought her back. Mum tried dragging me back to bed. What sort of hospital was this that a patient could be given the freedom to indulge in something so obviously wrong? I was having none of it. The 5000 must be completed. Our reunion – yet another ugly fight.

Caroline pulled the duvet back, somehow expecting to find Della languishing there! She felt anger, Della’s lack of appreciation and gratitude was like a smack in the face really.

*

“The jigsaw was nearing completion. I had been released from the mental health ‘section’ once everybody was satisfied that home life was stable yet again. Mum had rallied round quickly. Simon had tried his best to honour his intentions and had taken the trouble to discover from the mental health team how he and Sadie could spend time together finding out more about my condition. He has hidden talents, that uncle of mine because, miracle of miracles, there must be a God, Sadie had actually agreed to accompany me on my ERP session (Exposure and Response Prevention). Talk about Mum’s ideas to arrange family outings – bet she never envisaged Sadie would agree to such quality time with me!

Simon and Sadie had done their research. They thought it would pacify me as we waited in the waiting-room to know they didn’t think I was alone in being such an idiot!

‘Did you know,’ Sadie began, ‘about 3 per cent of teenagers have OCD?’

‘Yes, we were saying, about 300,000 people in the UK under sixteen have it.’

They were saying, were they! As if you just say those sorts of things! But I give them their due, they were trying, although I was still expecting Sadie to tag some sarcastic comment on to the end of her sentence. Maybe it was that final suicide attempt that made her change her attitude so dramatically or maybe we had underestimated Caroline and Simon all these years, because Caroline was trying real hard with Mum too. Paid to take her to some hotel spa for a couple of nights. Maybe they really were determined to help turn us all round.

‘How long do you think this session will last?’ Sadie asked Simon. I could tell she was revelling in seeing somebody else, me, having psychotherapy instead of her.

‘Up to one and a half hours. I think too many cooks will spoil the broth so I’ll leave you two cousins to it. My mobile’s on. Ring me when you want picking up,’ and with that he scooted off.

Funny, but I already felt a bit better. I think it was because for the first time in yonks Sadie was my friend, not my enemy. Fighting OCD is very challenging but having Sadie on my side was brill! I had someone in my support system nearer my age – it felt ace to have somebody else in on my secret apart from Mum!

The new cognitive behavioural therapist opened the door to greet us with a broad smile. She was quite good-looking, actually. I didn’t want Sadie to think I moved in a world of complete creeps. I felt almost proud, that Sadie’s new-found interest might be maintained by this young girl who seemed to have a sense of humour – she cracked a couple of doctor/patient jokes. Joking with Sadie – that was another first. Not sure if her new found politeness made her pretend but she didn’t seem to notice I touched the door handle five times.

Emily explained that I was going to be introduced slowly to one of my OCD triggers and then helped to avoid carrying out the necessary ritual.

Sadie even asked her questions: ‘How will that help Josh?’ She sounded like Mum who had always accompanied me to appointments like this in the past.

‘Well,’ she gently explained, ‘hopefully through this technique Josh will learn that the anxiety will eventually decrease without him having to complete the ritual.’

Things were looking up. I even managed to get through the door, as we left, without giving in to the compulsion to do my touching thing! It flashed through my mind that Sadie might suggest we go for a Coke together at the hospital café while she texted Uncle Simon. I’d have liked that for once. I felt a buzz that I could cope with Sadie by my side. I was going to beat you, OCD.

Sadie was texting Simon straightway. She didn’t seem quite as chatty as we walked to wait outside.

‘Headache, mate,’ she tapped her head, pulled her knitted hat on and lit a cigarette. Her mum hated her smoking; she was definitely underage too!

‘Mate!’ She’d called me mate – that was a first, another buzz.

The nicotine must have helped because she was back to the new chatty Sadie all the way back in the car, including me in every conversation,

‘We’ll have to take you to the next rugby match!’ I was on a real high. I only fastened and unfastened my seatbelt twice.

Mum and Dad were outwardly grateful to Uncle Simon but I could see beneath the surface that they wondered what the ulterior motive was. I thought they were a bit mean to think that. Simon had to get back. It felt really sad that he was going and as a special thank you to him – not that he’d notice, I forced myself not to wipe my hand after shaking his.

Sadie went out to the car with him. I wondered why they didn’t take her home now. We had enough problems at this end with me! However I was on top of the world. I felt I could open a window, for once, let in a bit of air, not fear germs from the outside world!

Floating through the window, Simon’s words: ‘Thanks, Sadie. You did a fab job. Here’s the twenty pounds I promised you; reckon you earned it, best cousin in the world!’

The CDs in the rack, next to the window weren’t in alphabetical order. My hand swiped the lot on the floor and I hurriedly began the task of sorting them. My right arm itched. I scratched it raw. My left arm had to match.

Mum was thrown back into her old role. A blur of her dragging me away from the CDs as Sadie stood at the open door sniggering away.

‘We’ll hang out together next time Dad visits,’ she waved the purple note in the air, winking at me. It was quickly hidden before Mum guessed her secret.

She was off, out of my life in a shot.”

*

The guilt – yes, despite everybody’s contrary beliefs, Sadie had started to do guilt – cut the memory recall dead. Sadie called out to Josh to continue the story as his voice faded into oblivion. She was woefully back in the present, the worst place on earth.