The day of the hearing, it was mid-July, scorching hot and I’d dressed in jeans and a thick cable-knit sweater with a roll neck.
I stood, staring at the front door waiting for my social worker, Audrey.
The house was silent, the boys’ rooms empty.
Rivulets of sweat ran down my back, pooling at the waistband. The eczema on my hands and neck was the worst it had been, so I’d slipped on a pair of olive-green leather gloves.
I’d wrapped Joel’s old striped college scarf around my neck and topped it all off with a pair of red plastic sunglasses I found in the kitchen drawer that I’d got free once with a magazine.
It seemed the right thing to do at the time.
‘Have you taken your medication?’ Audrey looked me up and down when I opened the front door.
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Let’s go back upstairs and find you something to wear that’s a bit more comfortable, shall we?’
‘I am comfortable,’ I said. The thick fabric felt safe and reassuring on my skin, like a coat of armour. It helped keep all the pain inside.
Inside the family court, the air-conditioning whirred above our heads.
People stared as I walked through the corridors with Audrey and I wondered if it was because they knew me. Knew everything that had happened and why we were here.
Then I remembered the sunglasses, scarf and gloves.
‘This is the room where the judge will hear your case,’ Audrey said before we went inside. ‘Everyone will already be in there. Sure you’re OK and this is what you want?’
‘Yes,’ I said, thinking about all the meetings, all the talking we’d done in the last few weeks.
Audrey opened the door.
I thought there would be a judge wearing a wig, a witness box and a public gallery but it was just a regular room with regular-looking people sitting in it.
The walls were white and there were two framed prints on the wall of sailboats on water. I stood and stared at them until Audrey tapped me on the shoulder and said I should sit down.
Joel’s family were in there and they all sat opposite me and Audrey.
I’d seen them glance at each other when I first walked in. Dave stared with his mouth open until Steph nudged him.
I took off the sunglasses and put them on the table in front of me but I didn’t meet their eyes.
A woman with short grey hair and wearing a light grey suit walked in. She sat next to a man wearing navy trousers and a white shirt and striped tie.
‘I’m Judge Myra Stevens,’ she said, looking at me and then at Joel’s parents. ‘We’re here today to formalise custody arrangements for…’ She consulted her paperwork. ‘Kane and Harrison Hilton. Is that right?’
‘Yes,’ Brenda and Leonard said together as if they’d been rehearsing. Their voices rang out loud and clear in the small room.
The judge looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes,’ I whispered, looking down at my gloved hands.
I listened to all that was being said in fits and starts. It was a tsunami of words, all serving to describe my chaotic life, my breakdown, my inability to care for my sons.
I imagined a giant eraser in my head that had the power to make the worst parts of my life disappear.
‘Answer the judge, Darcy,’ Audrey whispered and I realised everyone was looking at me again.
‘I need you to state that you are in full agreement with what has been discussed here.’ The judge addresses me directly. ‘Your sons’ grandparents will assume full custody of the boys with immediate effect. This is because you are unable to care properly for your children yourself. Do you agree?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered.
‘Louder please, so the court can hear.’
‘Yes,’ I said loudly. ‘I agree.’
My boys’ faces appeared in my mind. Kane was almost three years old and his hair was wiry whereas seven-year-old Harrison’s hair was as soft as silk. Their differences always amazed me. Kane loved broccoli and Harrison hated it so much he once hid some in his shoe and forgot about it and the house stunk to high heaven.
It took us ages to find out what the stench was.
I smiled to myself and when I looked up, I saw the judge was frowning.
More was said then, something about monitoring the boys and the continuation of my own treatment. Truthfully, I didn’t pay much attention. I was too busy thinking about how easily some polite talking and a few signatures could take something so precious away from me so swiftly in such an ordinary room.
‘Well done,’ Audrey whispered, handing me the pen. ‘You’re doing the right thing for the boys.’
Afterwards, everyone stood up together. The chair legs scraped on the floor and hurt my ears.
They all came over to our side of the room. Brenda’s face looked sad but up close, I saw the worry had gone and her eyes sparkled again.
She gave me a hug but I just left my arms hanging by my sides.
‘We’ll look after them while you get yourself well and can cope again,’ she said softly in my ear. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
‘And when you’re feeling better you can come over any time and see them.’ Leonard smiled and I thought, for the first time, how much his incisors looked sort of wolfish, just like Joel’s had.
‘I’ll pop over tomorrow,’ Steph said to Audrey. ‘Check how she is.’
Then she touched my arm and walked away with Dave.
Audrey led me outside, back into the fierce heat of the day.
Underneath my clothes, every inch of my body felt slick with sweat and I was starting to feel a bit light-headed.
I thought it would be all right, that I’d done the right thing. But the ball of iron in my stomach told me it wasn’t going to be all right after all.
I peeled off the gloves and Joel’s scarf and let them drop to my feet. I threw the sunglasses on the pavement and crunched them under my boot. When I started to pull my jumper up over my head, Audrey grabbed my arms.
‘Not here, Darcy, not in the street. Let’s get you home.’
I threw back my head and started to howl.
Much later, when it was dark outside, I woke up in a very quiet, very white room.
There was a machine beside me with red digital figures on a screen and lots of tubes leading over to my bed.
When I tried to move my arms, I found I could not.
The door opened and a nurse came in. She had fair hair up in a bun and she wore a light blue uniform.
‘You’ve woken up,’ she said. ‘That’s good timing because the tea trolley is on its way.’
‘Where am I?’ I said.
‘You’re in Edge House Clinic,’ she said, smoothing the bed covers with the flat of her hand. ‘You’re quite safe, there’s no need to worry.’
I’d been here before for a couple of weeks, when Joel had just died.
Little did I know back then that this time, I wouldn’t come out again for nearly two months.