Chapter Seven

Michael was still trying to polish his story for Laura when the unit door rattled open just after six-thirty. He took a deep breath that didn’t feel like nearly enough air reaching his lungs and stepped into the corridor. Laura walked towards him, nervous but smiling. A new male nurse walked more or less with her, hanging back to check her bottom in the tight jeans.

Laura called: “Michael!” and held out her arms. As if they did it every day, he reached for her and she came into him, gripped tight under the shoulder blades and put her cheek against his chest. She whispered, “I’ve missed you so much!”

He breathed in the lemon scent of her hair. “Missed you too.”

Keeping her hands on his body she looked up. “Well, show me your room.” He pushed the cell door open. Laura released him, bounced in and turned a full circle then said, “It’s a bit like my bedroom at that Jaywick rabbit hutch last year only my bars were prettier.” She kicked the yellow bucket and it rocked dangerously as she went on, “The en-suite bog is really up market.” Then she moved towards him and took his face in her hands. “All right, that’s enough admiring, now kiss me.”

A few minutes later, lying on their sides on his bed, nose-to-nose, his hand comfortably on Laura’s hip, her knuckles resting against his groin, she whispered, “That was nice.” Then her mouth curled in what Michael hoped was a smile and she asked, “So how come you’re in here then? Full story please, no bullshit.”

He told her. Laura blinked several times when he described the offer Hortan had made Terry.

She lifted herself on to an elbow to bring him into focus and said, “Show him his willie? What a queer! Terry was going to? Yuk!” The satyr grin crept out and she went on, “What if he’d asked you? Would you have been tempted?” Michael felt the color rise in his cheeks and made a disgusted face. She said, “Not just a little bit, to save getting bashed or bummed?”

For answer, he threw his weight on her and they collapsed on to the edge of the bed. The metal frame caught Laura’s spine and she yelped and rolled off on to the floor. He looked down shocked, then dropped beside her and started to rub the place she was trying to reach. They sat like that for a full minute. Laura hunched forward directing his hand and Michael rubbing where he was told, feeling nauseous.

Finally, she said, without looking at him, “That nurse Ralow is phoning your parents.”

He felt a surge of something that might have been hope or fear and asked, “Why?”

“To tell them not to come in.” Laura turned her head as much as she could to look at him, expression uncertain. “He said you weren’t allowed visitors in…in here.” She shuffled round on her bottom so they were face to face then asked, “Why did he let me in?” Michael didn’t know, didn’t want to think about it and just shrugged. Laura’s eyebrows rose in a question as she said, “So he’s not that bad, then?” Michael didn’t trust his voice to reply. The satyr grin slid across her face again and she asked, “How long have we got?”

“Not long,” Michael said, trying to keep face and voice flat, aware that for reason he didn’t understand his mind couldn’t be trusted right now.

Laura said, “Don’t be too enthusiastic.” She leaned forward and reached out, hands on his waistband and added quietly, “I want to do something really nice for you.”

She searched his face with her eyes and took whatever she saw there as agreement.

* * * *

She left at seven-thirty, promising to return the following afternoon. Nobby and Reynolds, standing in the corridor, smiled and looked at her breasts in the pale blue tee-shirt as she approached, then leered at her buttocks when she passed. Nobby made a rumbling comment as the unit door closed then an unmistakable arm movement and looked back at Michael, laughing. It was a flat challenge and one he wasn’t even tempted to take up. It didn’t touch his mind anywhere near that place the call to violence hid.

* * * *

Gordon didn’t return and by the morning, Michael was almost glad of Don’s company when he delivered breakfast, even his hovering presence once he’d put the tray down. The man obviously wanted to say something, but Michael avoided catching his eye and shovelled up the soggy cornflakes in silence. Don took a position by the door and rolled a cigarette. When Michael had scraped the plate and finished his lukewarm tea, there was nothing to do but light a cigarette of his own and look at the man.

Don asked, “Have a good night, did you?” The leer told him there was a kicker to the question.

Michael said, “Bearable.”

Don winked. “Nothing like getting a slice to make you sleep is there?” He chortled at Michael’s expression. “A piece o’ quim, son. Mister Ralow let your girlfriend in for you special. Hope you’re grateful. Pretty as a picture, with a nice little round arse too according to Clark. You’re a lucky lad.” Michael looked at him and it took a few seconds to realize the man was being his version of friendly. Michael did one of his noncommittal shrugs. Don went on. “Better make the most of it when she comes in today, you’ll be back in circulation tomorrow.”

That was news. Michael said, “I’m getting out of here?”

Don nodded. “Just the unit, mind,” he said. “It’ll be a while before they let you out of the hospital.”

Michael rose to it and said angrily, “I’m voluntary. They can’t keep me in if I don’t want to stay!”

Don laughed, shook his head and picked up the breakfast ruins. “Mister Ralow will be down in a while. Don’t forget to say, “thank you” nicely.” There was a definite salacious edge to his words and Michael’s stomach lurched.

Staff Nurse Ralow came into the unit forty minutes later carrying five towels and a new bar of soap. Michael didn’t see it happen but the polite tone in Nobby’s voice as the unit door clanged, told him enough. He stood up quickly and went outside. Ralow was opening the young soldier’s cell. Don hovered at the unit door, one hand inside his tunic at waist level. Even Henry had come out to watch.

As the cell door opened to its full extent, Ralow fanned his nose then looked towards Don and said, “Give me a hand, nurse.”

Don fumbled something into a more comfortable position under his jacket and moved across, face alert. They went into the cell and pulled the door shut behind them. Nobby and Reynolds had been easing closer and showed their disappointment. None of them spoke. It was quiet in the cell for a full minute then the door swung open. Don came out wearing green rubber gloves and pulling the young man behind him by one hand. As the shuffling figure approached, the change in him shocked the sentience in Michael. He looked as if he had lost weight fast: easy to see as he wore only heavily soiled blue briefs. His skin was far too white around the bruises and the nature of his leg stains didn’t take imagination. The hair lay flattened to his head as if heavily greased, but his face was the worst of it: An expression of limitless, animal confusion.

Nobby said, “Christ! What a bleeding pong!”

Don eyed him, saying, “We all do it, Mister Clark.”

Nobby made a sickened noise. “Not over our fuckin’ legs we don’t.”

Don pushed past him, engineering an elbow into the Clark belly. Nobby grunted but stood back and didn’t speak again. The young man shuffled after Don towards the bathroom, head swinging as if the eyes were fixed in it. At the door, Ralow turned and spoke to include the whole unit.

“Please stay out of the bathroom until I tell you otherwise.” Ralow bustled after Don and the young man.

When the door was safely closed behind them, Nobby snorted and said, “Bugger that, I’ll want it sandblasted before I go in there again.”

Reynolds made a little whinny of laughter and Henry rolled his eyes. Michael walked back into his cell and closed the door. Sitting on his bunk, he thought this would be a good time to sleep. He lay down and didn’t even try to summon Lather.

Michael woke with an urgent erection and it took a few seconds to work out why. Then he said, “That beats a cup of tea and a biscuit.”

Laura grinned and removed her hand, saying, “I’m always glad to help.”

Michael tried to find saliva then said croakily, “Mind you, a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

Laura held out a bottle of the cherry water she favoured, saying, “I brought one.”

Michael took it and drank half. When he handed the bottle back, gasping, Laura peered at it. “That’s sixpence you owe him.”

“Put it on my bill,” he said.

Laura climbed on to the bunk and nudged him over with her hip, murmuring, “You could work it off, little boy. Want to do mucky things?”

Michael turned on his side so they were nose to nose and stroked her bottom, saying, “I think I’d need a starting-handle at the moment.”

“That could be arranged,” Laura said as her hand searched.

He let her fingers wander for a few seconds then gently eased them away. She looked at him and asked, “Not in the mood? I thought boys were always in the mood.”

Michael touched the tip of her nose with his tongue then whispered, “Shows how much you know.”

It didn’t strike him until years later that he had, in that moment, maybe for the first time, judged men in general from his own responses.

Laura pulled her head back and waved a hand between them, saying, “Your breath!”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Our canary could perch on it!”

“Thanks a lot.”

Supporting herself on one elbow, Laura grinned at him and said, “I still love you, bum-breath or not.” She took hold of his top lip and pulled it away from the teeth. “When did you last clean your little toothy-pegs?”

Michael tried to bite her finger but missed then said, “Don’t know, actually. Not recently.”

Laura got up, one hand on her hip then said in a voice like her mother’s. “Do it now or there’s no more of me today.” The grin said differently.

Michael began to sit up, too fast, and his head protested. He put a hand to it and said, “Shit.”

Laura asked, face full of concern, “Bad headache?”

“Bad enough: the pills they give me, I expect, “Michael said. “Maybe a cold wash would help.” He thought about that then added, “You’d better come with him.”

Laura frowned at him, asking, “Why?”

Michael stood up carefully and took her hand. “Just in case. There are one or two people in here you wouldn’t want to meet on a dark night or a light one, come to that.”

Instead of fear, Laura’s satyr expression slipped out and she said, “Really? Would they try to ravage my adorable little body? That would be something to tell the girls at school.”

He tugged on her hand, saying, “Don’t piss about, Laura. This isn’t a hotel.”

Laura offered a ‘sorry’ face and meekly followed him down the corridor to the bathroom. Henry stood there, naked under the shower. He looked round as the door let cold air in and smiled through soap then wiped his mouth.

He said, “Hello Michael and Michael’s pretty friend.”

Michael said, as if the old man could do anything about it, “Henry, ladies present.”

Laura smiled, saying, “Don’t mind me.”

Henry giggled and flipped an imaginary curtain closed behind him. Michael sighed then stripped off his shirt and began to wash. Laura held a cold flannel to his neck. It helped and, gradually, the pain eased.

Eventually, Laura breathed, into his ear, “That’s better,” and squeezed his bottom with both hands. “You’ve got to learn to relax.”

Michael turned and grabbed her in a bear-hug, saying, “You’re right. The hell with it all.” He leaned down to kiss her.

She yelped. “Not with toothpaste! Oh, yuk!”

They wrestled and more toothpaste transferred to Laura’s face.

Henry’s feet slapped the wet floor behind them and he said, “I love to watch children at play, such innocence.”

Laura pulled free and gave him her urchin grin, wiping toothpaste from her lips.

She said to Henry, “Isn’t he sweet? Couldn’t you just eat him with a spoon?”

Michael looked round in time to catch Henry’s wink as the old man said, “Well, now you mention it.”

Laura looked from Henry to Michael and blushed then said, “Oh, oh…I didn’t…oops.”

Henry smiled, saying, “Perfectly all right, my dear. It’s nice to see your boy happy.”

He swept out of the bathroom, making the skimpy towel look like a toga.

Laura gave Michael a wincing face then whispered, “Did I upset him?”

Michael shook his head, relishing the lightness in chest and stomach, grateful to it for how ever long it might last and said, “No. It would take more than that to upset Henry.”

“I take it he’s not one of those you warned me about.”

Michael heard voices outside and said, “No, the one out there now is though. Let’s go.”

They walked quickly back to his cell. Nobby had propped himself against the wall close by, talking to Reynolds, and looked up at their footsteps. He said to Laura, “‘ello, back again are you?” Laura admitted she was. Nobby had difficulty switching his gaze between her breasts and groin. The tightening grip on his hand told Michael it wasn’t lost on Laura.

Nobby went on, with a leer, “So, going to invite us in for a chat? Don’t get much of a chance to talk to pretty little girls.”

Laura hesitated while she released a loud, slow breath then straightened, pushing her breasts out.

She ran both hands down her body from rib cage to hips then said, “No, sorry. We’re going to have a good hard fuck—doggy style and I’m a bit shy.”

They entered the cell with Nobby’s mouth still hanging open.

Inside, Laura put a finger to Michael’s lips, a huge grin on her face and whispered, “That told him: dirty sod.”

Michael wanted to be shocked, but couldn’t make it work. He grinned and said, “Well? He’s waiting.”

Laura’s eyes widened then she understood. “Wind him up? Should we?” Michael nodded.

Laura moved closer to the door and said, loudly, “Oh, I love to be naked. It makes me feel so sexy.” She rattled a drawer on the chest. “Oh, Michael, you’re so big today! Oh no, not there! Oh! Oh! Oh, all right. Be gentle.”

He whispered, “Don’t overdo it!”

Laura drummed on the chest and moaned. They were both heavily involved in sound effects when Michael noticed darkness at the doors peephole.

He said, “Oh, Jesus!”

The door came open as fast as its mass would allow and Staff Ralow entered. He stood, face holding an expression that was trying to be outraged but couldn’t move past victory.

He said, “This is unforgivable!” He glared at Laura. “You will leave now, Miss. You are banned from this hospital. You will not visit Michael again.”

Laura flinched then almost shouted, “Wait! You can’t do that!”

Ralow let his tiny, knife-slash smile go free. “I can and I have. If you persist in arguing, I will make it my business to let your parents know why this had to be done.”

Laura raised her chin up and said, voice wobbling, “Tell them, I don’t care. We didn’t do anything. It was just a joke. See, I’m still dressed.”

Ralow had drawn her on to prepared ground and relaxed.

He said, “Just a joke to you perhaps, Miss, but we have mentally ill men here. Some have…sexual problems. Enforced celibacy combined with that are not a good mix, and you do this.” He waved a hand at her. “You taunt them with your sexuality!”

Laura said, “Oh, come on,” but her shoulders dropped and Michael knew she had lost.

Ralow went on, more quietly, “I shall say no more about this if you leave now and do not return. If you were my daughter…” The snort of disgust was an insult.

Laura looked at his face and said loudly, “Screw you!”

Ralow glanced at Michael then back to Laura and said, face expressionless, “You are banned, permanently, young woman. I will make it my business to inform your parents about the reason, every detail.” He looked at Michael again. “Both sets of parents. I will also take this to Doctor Stiles and suggest, strongly suggest, that your case, Michael, be reviewed pending a more lengthy and compulsory stay in this unit.”

Laura shouted, “You can’t do that!”

Ralow said gently, “You’d be surprised how easily I can.”

Laura looked at him wearing her appalled ten year-old’s face then turned her head and whispered, “Michael?”

Michael looked at Ralow, could see the question in his eyes and tried not to think what it meant.

He asked, “Could we talk about this later, Mister Ralow?” He glanced at Laura. “About leaving the unit and Laura coming to visit me still and telling our parents…and everything? Maybe we can work something out? Before you talk to anyone?”

Ralow stood, eyes saying a great deal more than Michael wanted to hear then he said, “Perhaps.” He stepped away from the door and gestured Laura to leave. “You will go now, Miss. You may telephone the ward tomorrow morning at eleven precisely. Speak only to me. I will let you know then what has been decided.”

Laura gave Michael an agonized look and walked out.

Ralow glanced at Michael’s groin then up to his face. Following Laura out, he said, “I will be back in half an hour.”

Michael sat down heavily on the unwelcoming bunk and needed to empty his bowel.