It would be a lie if I said the rest of that first night was uneventful. Every second at Bellfield seemed to be full of some underlying drama or tension, whether it was just banter or something a lot more confrontational.
The truth was that I spent that first early evening in a zombie-like state. Whether it was the shock of being landed in this alien place or the exertion of leaving hospital, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I felt disconnected from everything.
My body ached, the earlier stiffness in my back multiplying by the minute. It was getting so bad by the time we ate that it was difficult to sit down. I could feel the muscles around my spine spasm, like someone had shoved half a dozen golf balls down the neck of Dad’s shirt. Each time I leaned back in the chair, a jolt of pain shot me upright.
It didn’t go unnoticed. Naomi offered an expression of contempt before whispering something to Susie, who giggled and then looked embarrassed as she caught my eye.
Floss noticed it too.
‘What’s going on, Daisy?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ I answered, trying to make light of it. ‘Just a bit achy, that’s all. Tired, I suppose.’
She didn’t look convinced.
‘Keep an eye on it, will you? And tell us if it gets worse.’ She seemed concerned. ‘Oh, and that reminds me, your meds. Evelyn said you were to take them before each meal.’
She pushed herself to her feet and paced out of the door, leaving me to people-watch.
The dining room was long and thin, more a canteen than anything homely, with huge metal shutters lining the right-hand side, which housed the kitchen. The shutters were down tonight as we were having takeaway in my honour, a celebration that caused a few ripples among the others.
‘How come she gets to choose?’ Patrick moaned. ‘I’ve been here eight months and I’ve never chosen yet!’
‘That’s such bull,’ barked Naomi. ‘You chose that crappy fried chicken last week. Worst damn thing I’ve ever eaten. Was more like rat.’
‘That wasn’t me. That was Jim!’
All eyes turned to Jimmy, who was on another wavelength, tapping furiously on his oversized phone.
This seemed to diffuse things a bit, as Susie giggled again, while Naomi and Patrick rolled their eyes.
‘Who you texting?’ Patrick asked.
‘Just a mate. Reckons he can get me a gig next week. Somewhere I can try out some new tunes.’
‘Safe,’ mocked Naomi. ‘You can get us on the guest list. We’ll look forward to it.’ It was obvious she didn’t believe a word of it.
‘Won’t be a problem. VIP passes the lot of you.’ Jimmy smiled, without looking up.
This drew more eye rolls from the others, with Patrick looking particularly scathing.
The arrival of the pizzas seemed to signal the end of ribbing Jimmy, as the four of them descended on the boxes like vultures.
I waited until they’d scavenged what they needed before sliding a slice on to my plate, then picked at the salami and removed the chunks of pineapple. I might have been depressed, but I still knew fruit on pizza was sick and wrong.
Patrick was wolfing his down, destroying each slice like he smoked his cigarettes. It was as if he feared someone eating them off his plate before he did.
Jimmy, on the other hand, was secretive, taking his to the table at the far end of the canteen, sitting with his back to the rest of us, arms wrapped protectively round his plate.
‘Never lets any of us see him eat,’ Floss said, sighing as she returned with a cup holding two orange pills. ‘Hasn’t since the day he arrived.’
I looked at the pills, two orange spheres that I’d been taking since early in my hospital stay, and it struck me then that I didn’t even know what they were called.
‘You need some water?’
I shook my head and pointed at my cup, before tipping the pills to the back of my throat and washing them down with a grimace.
It didn’t cause a stir with the others. In fact, after seeing me, Floss handed out other cups to Susie, Naomi and Patrick, but she went nowhere near Jimmy.
Susie washed hers down, thanking Floss enthusiastically. Patrick flat refused his, swiping the cup on to the floor, while Naomi tried to strike a bargain with hers.
‘I’ll take ’em as soon as you give me a proper knife and fork to eat with.’ It was clear from her voice and Floss’s body language that this was a common argument.
‘Sweetie, you know the situation. We’ve been over it every night this week. Until we can trust you with the proper knives and know you’re not going to smuggle them upstairs with you, then it’s got to be the wooden ones.’
‘Have you felt how blunt the proper knives are? I couldn’t cut shit with them, even if I wanted to.’
‘Then what were you doing with so many in your room? And why were they hidden in different places?’ Floss’s tone wasn’t confrontational, just matter-of-fact, calm.
It didn’t stop Patrick from sticking the boot in.
‘You wanna be careful giving her the wooden ones anyway. Never mind cutting her arms, she’ll give herself multiple splinter wounds with them bad boys.’
He guffawed loudly and looked to the others for support, but got none. Susie looked scared and hugged herself gently, while Jimmy was still on the far bench.
It was all Naomi needed to step up a gear, and she threw her chair backwards before launching herself over the table at Patrick.
‘They’re strong enough to cut you, you freak,’ she yelled, as she thrust the fork towards him.
If she hadn’t been so out of control it would’ve been funny. Patrick certainly thought it was, as he shuffled away from her, flicking slaps at her head as he danced.
‘Come on, then. Cut me,’ he taunted, pulling a face. ‘Do your worst.’
Naomi let out a scream, a whole-hearted banshee wail that started at her feet and propelled her towards him.
I don’t think Patrick expected her to make contact. He thought he was too quick. So when the fork pierced his skin before splintering, everything went into slow motion. His hand reached for his face, and as he saw the blood on his fingers everything speeded up again and he lunged at her, elbows raised. There was a crunch as Naomi’s head went back, followed by a flurry of bodies as carers jumped in from all sides.
Amazingly, Naomi was still on her feet, insults pouring out of her mouth. Despite Maya and Floss hanging off her arms, she still tried to get at Patrick, goading him with every insult she had.
Patrick was no calmer himself, bucking and writhing as three male carers manoeuvred him to the floor. Even though all of them were bigger and older, they were struggling to contain him. Two of them pinned his arms down, resting their body weight on his shoulders, pushing his forehead into the floor, while Eric applied pressure to the small of his back. With an eye on his flailing legs, he talked gently to Patrick, his voice calm and even as he tried to bring him down.
‘Think about it, Paddy. Think about what’s happening, and try to breathe, you hear?’
It was unreal, unlike anything I’d seen, on screen or in reality, and I looked to the others, only to find them unmoved. Susie was shuffling around a little, but was still trying to eat her food, while Jimmy just strutted across the room, ditched his plate by the serving hatch and punched numbers into his phone.
That was it for me. I didn’t feel capable of watching any more, so I slipped off my chair, felt my back holler in annoyance and limped towards the stairs, not knowing if anyone had even noticed I was gone.