Everything moved quicker after Hobson’s visit, especially the nurses. Having seen me in action they didn’t want to spend much time in my presence. They were more used to ingrowing toenails and ruptured appendixes, and without an injection of danger money obviously thought it best to leave me alone. I tried not to let it bother me.
The only people who visited with any kind of regularity were Alice and Evelyn, my escapades spurring them into a frenzy of activity.
‘Well, Daisy,’ moaned Evelyn, ‘I’m afraid I haven’t been able to contact any relatives suitable to act as guardian. I did find a step-brother on your father’s side –’ my heart stopped as I remembered the surly man by my grandpa’s grave – ‘but he’s in poor health himself and isn’t capable of offering you the care you need.’
‘So what does that mean?’ Even though I knew it wasn’t an option, I couldn’t help but hope that they’d send me home.
‘Well, you can’t stay on the ward!’ She sighed, as if she’d be happy to leave me here until I blew out the candles on my eighteenth. ‘As much as we think this might be the best place for you right now.’
Alice jumped in, irked by her tone.
‘What Evelyn means, Daisy, is that you’re grieving, understandably so. And we need to find you a placement that will be sympathetic to this.’
A placement? What was she talking about? She made it sound more like work experience than somewhere that I could call home.
‘We’ve discussed the possibility of a foster placement for you, with a family that has experience of young people in your position. Ideally we’d look for this to be a long-term option. We don’t think it would be in your interests to be shunted around from one set of new parents to another.’
New parents? The thought bounced around the inside of my head in panic.
Were they winding me up? The one parent I’d had wasn’t in the ground yet and they wanted me to accept the idea of him being replaced? And what about the woman they’d chosen to be my mum? What would I say to her? Would they expect me to like her, or love her even? I didn’t want this. I couldn’t cope with what it all meant.
The panic must have been jumping off my face, because Alice started to backtrack.
‘That isn’t what concerns us most, though. Our primary concern is your level of self-harm. You’ve found a way of worsening your injuries every night since arriving but haven’t offered any insight into why. We’d be concerned about placing you within a fostering environment until we have a better steer on what you’re feeling. You show symptoms of depression and anxiety, but at the same time you have these flash points, like the episode with your visitor.’
‘The nurses were shocked at what went on,’ interrupted Evelyn. ‘Said it looked like you wanted to kill him.’
‘Of course we know that’s not true, but we’re worried about you, about what’s going on to provoke such an extreme reaction. Is there a problem with your teacher we should know about, or is it to do with your dad?’
Dad. I ached to see him. Couldn’t believe that he wasn’t about to walk through the door with a rollie tucked behind his ear. But every time I let that image settle it evaporated, replaced by the sight of the paramedics pounding his chest, of them walking sadly away. I couldn’t tell them what had gone on – how could I? Sharing had done me no favours so far, had it?
We sat among the silence for a minute or two, Alice’s eyes boring into me, reading every blink or tap of my foot.
‘We really should talk about what happened with your teacher. Because even if you don’t want to tell me about it, it said a lot about what I think is going on for you.’
‘And what’s that, then?’
‘It’s obvious that you’ve been under incredible pressure. What that pressure is down to we don’t know, and it would definitely help if you told us.’ She paused briefly, but I gave her nothing. ‘But we feel that your self-harming, coupled with the agitation, delusions and bouts of aggression, suggests something known as a “stress psychosis”.’
I stared at her blankly. She’d lost me.
‘I’m sorry. I’m not meaning to confuse you. Or scare you either. Can I explain what I mean?’
I nodded, needing to know, whatever it cost me.
‘Since your admission you’ve been distressed. And I’m not surprised. Losing a parent is devastating for anyone at any time.’
I winced. Didn’t want to think about Dad not coming back.
‘But what is of more concern is this recurrent idea that what happened was due to you: that you caused the crash.’
Had I told her that? Not that I remembered.
‘I know you haven’t told us this directly. But there were times, especially in the first seventy-two hours, and then again after your visit yesterday, when you were so agitated, so convinced that it was all your doing, that we had no option but to sedate you. Do you remember this, Daisy?’
The needle I remembered. The rest of it was patchy, so I shook my head.
‘You were very insistent. Adamant, in fact. Shouting it to anyone who would listen.’ Her face was grave. ‘We can see from your self-harming that you’ve not been coping with things, and when people self-harm it’s often as a result of low self-esteem, which is then magnified each time they cut themselves. By the state of your arm, it’s safe to say you’ve been feeling probably as low as you possibly could.’
She continued to search my face for signs that she was on the money.
‘What we think is that your dad’s crash was the final straw in a way. It made the guilt of what you’ve been doing to yourself unbearable, and as a result you’ve internalized what happened to your dad as being your fault. That you made the crash happen.’
As theories go it wasn’t a bad one. But they didn’t know what I knew. What I’d said to get Dad in the car.
But there was no point in saying anything. They’d made up their minds. If anything, I could only make it worse. Sit there and suck it up. That’s what I had to do.
‘Now, we could stay here for the next two hours, two days, two weeks, telling you that this had nothing to do with you. But we know that’s not going to help. So, we’re going to discharge you, today.’
This was Evelyn’s cue. ‘As we’ve said, it wouldn’t be appropriate to put you in the care of a foster family …’
‘Not yet,’ Alice said, smiling.
‘But we have managed to find you a placement at a therapeutic community, called Bellfield. It’s not too far from here, on the east side of town, close to the sea.’
‘It has a good reputation, Daisy.’ The smile was back on Alice’s face – she was excited for me, like Christmas had come early. ‘It’s a place that can help you. Help you understand what’s happening and how to change things for the better. With their help, these thoughts of yours will pass.’
‘Would I be there on my own?’ I had visions of locked doors and pills served twice daily.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Would they keep me on my own? Locked up? What is this place? A loony bin or something?’
Alice shook her head.
‘No, no, no. It’s a therapeutic community. You’d be there with four or five others your age. Teens who’ve gone through events like yours, who are struggling to make sense of things.’
I didn’t know whether to be pleased or terrified. Was the prospect of other kids less dangerous than being given new parents?
‘Having others there will help you, just as your presence will help them.’
I doubted that somehow, but Alice was adamant.
‘Seeing what the other kids are going through will help you get some perspective on your own issues. And there are therapists too, specialists on hand twenty-four hours a day, all of them there to help you turn the corner.’
It sounded like hell. The last thing I needed, or wanted, was people surrounding me, encouraging me to talk. What good would it do? Who would it bring back?
But I couldn’t say that to them, so I blurted out the first thing that came into my head.
‘What about my clothes?’
Evelyn seemed pleased that I’d asked, or rather looked smug with herself.
‘Don’t you be worrying about that. I’ve been out and bought some essentials to get you through the next couple of days. Until you feel strong enough to go home and collect some things.’
Home. I feared and longed for it at the same time.
‘Oh, right, thanks.’
‘I’ll be back before you leave, Daisy,’ said Alice, obviously relieved I hadn’t caused a riot at the news. ‘We upped the medication to help with your anxiety yesterday and you’ll need a new prescription to take with you. It’s not a long-term thing, mind, just until the specialists at Bellfield can assess you themselves.’
I nodded, hoping my eye contact would tell her that I was grateful. Somehow the words themselves wouldn’t come.
Despite where I was heading, it was a relief to walk out of the hospital doors.
A breeze cut through the warm air and I tried a smile, which sat awkwardly on my face, before slipping to the floor.
It felt strange to be back in my own unwashed clothes again, but after looking at the essentials that Evelyn had bought, I had little option, and anyway anything was better than a hospital gown.
My jaw had dropped when I saw what she had brought with her. It was like she was dressing a doll. A couple of cheap supermarket T-shirts in pink and lilac, both emblazoned with a star on the front in sequins. Strangely, they didn’t appeal. Especially as the sleeves barely reached my biceps, leaving my bandaged arm exposed for all to see. Dad’s shirt felt far more comfortable, despite smelling of the ward rather than of him.
By the time we reached the car, I was tired, unable to stifle a yawn.
I had no real idea where this Bellfield place was. It was on the side of town that I didn’t know that well, despite Dad taking me to the beaches over the years. I’d paid plenty of attention to the arcades and the tacky shops selling rock and sugared dummies, but little else. I never thought I’d end up living there, out of choice or otherwise.
Evelyn’s car was a mess. The floor was littered with empty Coke cans and chocolate wrappers, and I couldn’t help wondering if they were hers or had been left by some of the other kids she dealt with. I reckoned they must have been hers; she didn’t strike me as the sort to sweeten kids up out of choice.
I flicked a wrapper off the seat and listened as she tried to put me at ease. She told me how great Bellfield was, that we’d been lucky to secure a placement there. She knew of kids who’d been waiting months for such an opportunity. Apparently my situation was different, though: having no other family threw waiting lists on their heads. I’d been bumped above them. I was a special case.
I shuddered at the idea. There was nothing special about what was going on. Nothing out of the ordinary about this tin-pot car, or the contents of the bag that I clutched in my hand, or even the conversation she was trying to make us have.
The last thing I wanted to do was seem special. When I got to this place, I had to be anything but. I needed to blend in, be dull, lifeless, the kid no one wanted to talk to.
If I could manage that, then everything would be fine. No one would get hurt.