Day 65 / 14:19
‘I don’t want to talk about my mom or my dad, not even about Lily. Is that all right?’ Noah’s surprised to hear Juliet ask permission, and so politely. She must really want to say what’s on her mind.
‘One of the things I wonder about is the history of this place. The smells here are heavy, like they’ve been cooked into the walls. Each person who’s stayed in one of these rooms left something of themselves behind, and it’s not always Eau de Happiness. If these walls could speak. Such a cliché, but …’
She looks around and they all nod. It’s true, the rooms at Greenhills do carry a strange weight, and it’s mainly sadness.
‘Who was in my room before me? And before them, and before them? Who unpacked their bags, stood at the same window as me, staring at lawns and trees and high walls? The benches, who was sitting on them? And how did they arrive? What fears came in with them? Did they have hope? Did they imagine themselves getting better, pray they’d walk out all fixed and new? Three months to a new and better you.’
For once, Juliet is not joking, nor is she being flippant or cynical. Her voice is quiet, serious. ‘That’s what I hope for sometimes,’ says Juliet. ‘A new and better me.’ She laughs. ‘Sorry.’ She ducks her head.
‘Don’t be sorry, Juliet.’ Ms Turner is quick off the mark. ‘I’m sure everyone here has felt the same at some time. Right?’
‘I’d like that.’ Sadie’s voice is small. ‘I want that. To be new and better, because then, if I was … I’d be strong.’
‘Are you sure you want to say this now, Sadie?’ Ms Turner asks.
‘I’m sure,’ she says, tossing back her hair. ‘They’ve all probably guessed there’s something seriously wrong in my house. Might as well tell them what it is.’ Her words aren’t defensive or whiney as they usually are. She simply sounds weary.
‘I’m so tired.’ She looks up at all of them. ‘You all think I do nothing but complain. I can understand that, I really can. But that’s what I do. Complain and whinge and moan. Try to get you all into trouble. Anything to stop people asking me questions.’
There’s silence in the Rec Room.
Sadie’s staring down. ‘I’m his perfect little girl,’ she says. ‘He’d do anything for me. As long as I’m prepared to do anything for him.’ She pauses, takes a deep breath, doesn’t lift her head. ‘And his friends. It’s dirty. So dirty, and yet he still calls me his perfect girl. That’s when my mother isn’t around.’
A tear runs down her cheek and Ms Turner leans forward and passes her a tissue.
‘So I whine,’ says Sadie, ‘and I bitch and I steal and this is my fourth time in Greenhills. Three short-term stays and now the full residential programme. I’d do anything to come back here for ever. I do everything I can to get them to say I need help and care.
‘You know that feeling you were talking about? From the ones who have been here before?’ She looks up and Juliet nods. ‘Well, one of them is me. I’m one of those people who want to leave here strong and new, because otherwise,’ her hands bunch on her lap, ‘I’m scared. I’m so scared I’m going to take a knife and slit him wide open.’ She laughs, but it’s one of the saddest sounds Noah has ever heard. ‘Then I’d definitely get to staying shut up. Forever.’
‘Sadie,’ Juliet says. She leans over Morné and grabs Sadie’s hand.
‘Don’t worry, Juliet,’ Sadie says. ‘How could you know? I’m pretty good at hiding it. Even my Mom … even she doesn’t know.’
Her mouth’s saying the words, but her eyelids flicker, like she’s blinking the truth away.
Ms Turner looks at her watch. ‘We’ve still got 15 minutes,’ she says, ‘but I’m going to cut this short. What I’d like you all to do is go to your rooms and write in your journals about today’s session. How it made you feel. Can you do that?’
They nod as one.
She turns to Sadie. ‘Would you like to talk more, Sadie?’
‘Sure.’ Sadie’s voice is quiet. She stands to follow Ms Turner out of the Rec Room. As she passes Noah’s chair she stops. ‘Hey, Noah?’
‘Yes?’
‘It was me who moved your mugs and that desk thingie. Me and Morné.’
Noah stares at her open-mouthed. ‘You?’
‘I’m sorry. You’re just so, so perfect, you know. Always neat, nothing ever out of place. Morné and me … We were going to do more, mess with you a bit. Disorganise you. You know.’
‘That’s what I wanted to tell you,’ Juliet says. ‘But then Mad—’ She breaks off and recovers quickly. ‘But then I forgot. I saw them, Noah. Standing near your room. Looking back into it. Not actually doing anything, but …’
Now Morné’s looking at Noah, sneering. ‘It was a fokken mug, man. And that stupid plastic thing. It’s not like we broke anything.’
Sadie touches Noah lightly on the arm. ‘Sorry, hey. It was just for fun.’
Fun? Are you prepared to put up with this?
Morné is still staring at Noah, unblinking.
Noah looks away, and back at Sadie. Ms Turner’s right there, her arm around Sadie’s shoulder, but Sadie’s waiting.
He takes a deep breath, and allows himself a silent out, 2 3 4 5. ‘Don’t worry, Sadie. Morné’s right. They’re only mugs.’
Sadie smiles sadly and walks away, leaning into Ms Turner.