Melissa had got out The Patti Smith Masters box set and was relaxing in the back lounge after work. She’d put on the first CD, Horses, and Patti Smith’s lesbian rendition of “Gloria” was just ending as I came into the room. Patti’s voice made me feel confessional, and I wanted to tell Melissa about the voices in my head.
“That song certainly sounds different now,” Melissa said dryly, “hearing it with lesbian ears.”
I sat down beside her on the settee as Patti Smith recited the introduction to the next song, “Redondo Beach,” “Redondo Beach is a beach where women love other women.”
“That made me feel tingly and scandalized when it came out in 1975,” I said. “Since we’re listening to Patti Smith and she makes me want to spill my guts, there’s something else I want to tell you.”
“You mean besides being off yer head and listening to Oasis?” Melissa smiled at me.
“Yes. I should wait until we get to Radio Ethiopia. That album describes it best.”
“Oh, go on.” Melissa ejected Horses and slid Radio Ethiopia into the CD player.
“This might sound totally insane,” I began, thinking, what good can possibly come of a sentence that starts like that? Even though Patti was singing, that Gang of Four song “Damaged Goods” ran quickly through my head. I inhaled deeply then let the air all out in a gush. “I have voices in my head. Or had them. Before I met you and Nick. Now I hear your voices. That’s nuts already, innit? The voices are why I came to England in the first place. I came looking for the women inside my head. And I found you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A long time ago, I started hearing voices in my head.”
“Did these voices come from inside or outside your head?”
“Oh, don’t go all medical on me, Melissa. There were two women with British accents talking inside my head. Once when I was seriously suicidal, one of these women sat beside me on the bed and—”
“Wait. She sat beside you?”
“I felt that she was sitting beside me,” I said impatiently. “She put her hand on my forehead, and the pain stopped. For several hours. You know that doesn’t just suddenly happen in the middle of a nervous breakdown when your brain chemistry is completely fucked up.”
“Hang on. She put her hand on your forehead? Was or was not this woman literally in the room with you?”
“I felt her hand on my forehead.”
“What did she look like?”
“I had my eyes closed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I felt her presence on the bed. I felt her weight on the mattress. I don’t know if you could call it literally or not. At first all I knew was that her name was Melissa. I recognized your voice the second I heard you on the telephone.” I was convinced this was true. “And when I saw you, I knew.”
Melissa stared at me. “You knew what?”
“That woman was you.”
“That’s not possible,” Melissa said finally. “Love, I’ve been here the whole time.”
“Have you never had even an inkling of me?”
“You said there were two. Who was the other one?”
“She was younger and had darker hair.” I paused. “I was drawn to Nick the first time I saw her. She looked familiar. I knew she was the second woman. That’s why I was following her that night.”
Melissa said gently, “What happened to your voices after you were properly medicated?”
“Nothing. Those voices were real, Melissa. The meds can’t touch them. Please don’t make me see a psychiatrist.”
“I—” Melissa paused, frowning in thought. “I don’t know how you expect me to respond. You say you don’t hear them anymore?”
“They stopped when I met you. Now I hear your voice.”
“That’s either very crazy or very romantic.” She sighed then said hesitantly, “It’s true from the first time we met I felt comfortable around you. I let you spend the night when I’m usually far more cautious about letting someone I don’t know stay in my flat. I even wondered about it at the time. But it seemed natural to take you in because you’d just rescued Nicky. Why wouldn’t I feel that way? I guess it would have been more in character if I’d offered to drive you home or had you admitted to hospital for the night instead. I’m not normally as openly affectionate with people like I was almost immediately with you. It generally takes me a long time to open up to someone. And you know I have feelings for you I haven’t had before. But isn’t that called falling in love? It happens every day.”
“I used to listen to this album and think of you,” I said as “Pissing in a River” played on the stereo. “For a long time the voices stopped, and I missed you so much. I’d sit with my guitar and play along for hours. This was our special song. It was my way of telling you how I felt about you. That I would do anything to reach you.” I heard Patti Smith sing, “Everything I’ve done I’ve done for you / Oh I give my life for you.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Every move I made I move to you / And I came like a magnet for you now.”
“There isn’t anything to say. I sound nuts.” I looked at her sympathetically. “I just wanted you to know. I don’t want to have secrets from you.”
“That’s so intense.”
I said, “Every move I made, I moved to you.”
Melissa took off Patti Smith and put on Elvis Costello and the Attractions for “more cynicism and a little less emotion.”
“I saw Elvis Costello at Exeter University,” I said, to show Melissa I was oriented times three, that I had a sense of who I was, time, and place. “He was ace. He wore a suit.”
“Who else did you see?”
“Oh, everyone who was around. The Tourists. Echo and the Bunnymen. The Second Stiffs Live Tour. Nick Lowe. Blurt. Ian Dury. The Jam. Any Trouble. Midnight and the Lemon Boys. I bought a badge off Glenn Tilbrook from Squeeze after they played.”
“Midnight and the Lemon Boys?” Melissa asked distractedly.
“A punk band from Brighton.” I still had my little black-and-yellow Midnight and the Lemon Boys badge and fond memories of dancing to them in the pub with my Exeter mates.
“Look,” Melissa said, “for my own sanity, I’ve got to ask—are you sure it’s not your OCD? You still have symptoms.”
“This is totally different, Melissa. And I didn’t just hear you. I saw you. I know how it sounds, but I thought I could tell you anything.”
“You can tell me anything.”
“All I know is I came looking for you, and here you are.” I crossed my arms sulkily.
“Why didn’t I know about you then?”
“Maybe you were busy,” I snapped.
“Suspending disbelief for a moment—” Melissa began, and I glared at her, “do you think we knew each other in a past life or something?”
“Do I know?” I asked, exasperated. “How would I know? It feels spiritual. I don’t know. Maybe I had a strong idea in my head of how things should be. Besides, you know if we understood absolutely everything, it would extinguish all hope. People need hope.”
Melissa went silent, considering me, then finally said, “It doesn’t matter how you got here. You arrived like a gift.”
“I thought I was out on my arse,” I said, relieved.
“Well, sanity’s got a lot to answer for.” Melissa ran a hand lightly over my face. “Love, I don’t care if you’re a nutter.”
“Those are the nicest words I ever heard,” I said.