Ma, I've Got Meself Locked Up in the Mad House Read online

  I took a deep breath into my croaking lungs, giving out a big snort, and glanced out the window. Patients were slowly walking around the grounds, being trailed by bored nurses looking at their watches and wrapping their coats tightly around their necks, then moving up faster behind the patients, who were in no hurry to get back in.

  I was going nowhere, just getting weaker all the time. I’m not able to eat. There is a devilment in me that won’t allow me to move on. A feeling I don’t deserve to live. Something inside me wants to deprive me of all pleasure. That includes eating. I no longer believed anyone would want me for myself. What I really wanted was to have someone to share my life with. Nobody complicated, just a simple, honest-to-God, caring man. One I could trust and know he would never turn his back on me.

  That’s not going to happen. All the ones I’ve met are now married at my age, mid thirties, and they are just on the mooch for a bit of stray. Not my style! I want someone all to myself.

  ‘Look what I’ve got!’ Katie came flying into the room, stopping at the end of my bed. She propped one arm against the wall and tucked her left leg under her, brandishing a bottle held high in the air. ‘Vintage wine!’ she screeched. ‘Take a look, Martha!’ she gasped, planking herself down on my bed, showing me the bottle. ‘Con brought it in to me today. It’s St Valentine’s Day. And a huge box of chocs! I left them at the station, for the nurses.’

  ‘Ah! Isn’t he so good? Yeah!’ I said, looking at the label. ‘Baron de Rothschilds. He didn’t spare any expense, did he?’ I said, looking at her.

  ‘No! We’re mad about each other,’ she beamed, her freckles crinkling across her button nose, and she swept her long, wavy, sandy hair back from her lovely grey eyes. They always sparkled; she was full of mischief.

  We got along like a house on fire. That’s unusual for me. I don’t normally bother about women. I don’t take them seriously. I laughed suddenly! The ma put me off women, and Jackser makes me wary of men! I shook my head. It’s never occurred to me before! Hmm! You learn something new every day. But in here, I have time to do nothing else but be around women, and it’s a nice feeling. Easier than being with men. Men! They’re hard work. You have to be on your guard all the time. Because usually they are only after the one thing. But with women I can now have fun. Act silly, talk, say what I like, and almost be a child again. I’m doing things in reverse order. As a child, I was like an old woman. In here, I act like a child. That’s the beauty of this place. You can just be yourself, people don’t blink an eyelid no matter what you say or do. So the childish side is coming out in me.

  Katie looked at me with her grey eyes beginning to mist over with tears. She was talking, and I shook my head to empty it of thoughts, and leaned into her to listen.

  ‘Poor Con looked lost without me. He said if we couldn’t celebrate at home, then we would celebrate here.’

  ‘How long are you married, Katie?’

  ‘Three years! We were really happy, then I had the baby two months ago and went mad!’ Then she laughed. ‘They had to drag me in here last week!’

  ‘Don’t worry, Katie! We saw you.’

  ‘Yeah! Poor Con! He came in from work that evening and I was flinging dishes at the wall. Then I started throwing them at him. I blamed him for getting me into the mess. He was terrified. He couldn’t get back into the kitchen until I had run out of things to throw at him. Ah! You should have seen the kitchen, Martha! It was wrecked. God!’ she said, scratching her head, ‘I can’t believe how insane I went.

  ‘My poor mother turned up, creeping into the kitchen, wading over the wreckage, and sat down beside me at the kitchen table, listening to me rant and rave about what a shit Con was! Poor Con. I really miss him and the baby. But Jeremy is being looked after by my mother. She probably won’t hand him back. I’ll have to prise him free!’ Then she laughed. ‘So! What about this?’ she said, brandishing the wine.

  ‘Drink it!’ I said.

  ‘No probs,’ she said. ‘What about a bottle opener?’ She looked at me, squeezing her lips together, her eyes twinkling. ‘The nurses let me have it knowing I wouldn’t be able to open it.’

  ‘Leave that to me!’ I said. ‘See if we can bribe one of the kitchen staff to open it for us, or, better still, we’ll sneak in and get it ourselves.’

  ‘Yeah! Great idea!’ Katie roared. Then her face dropped. ‘How do we get to the kitchen? We can’t get out of here without an escort.’

  ‘Yeah! I hadn’t thought of that,’ I said, seeing us locked up here.

  ‘Where’s Mabel?’

  We looked up as a nurse stood holding Mabel’s clothes.

  ‘She’s gone to take a bath,’ Katie said.

  ‘Right! There’s her clothes,’ and she dumped them on the bed. ‘By the way, Martha. Sister is not going to allow you to go on refusing to eat.’ She stopped to look at me, shaking her head and wagging her finger at me. ‘She intends taking you on herself!’ Then she was gone, skipping out the door.

  I took no notice. Then Mabel arrived back, dancing into the room, singing, ‘Freedom! Eat your heart out, you two! I’m getting out!’ she chirped.

  ‘What?’ Katie and I roared, tearing our eyes back from each other to land on Mabel, screaming, ‘How? Where?’

  ‘Out for walkies!’ smirked Mabel. ‘While you two prawns were flaked out last night, I spent half the night nice and cosy talking to the staff nurse on night duty. I kept her company, droned out my life story. I now see the error of my ways and, hey presto!’ she waved her arms at the clothes. We were gobsmacked.

  Then a vision appeared and filled the doorway with his broad chest. He was built like a tank. The distinguished prat! I thought, looking at his gorgeous sleek blond hair with gold running through it. It was combed straight back, curling up at the collar of his black-leather tight-fitting Italian jacket. His emerald-green eyes, hooded with thick fair eyelashes, penetrated out of a chiselled cream-and-gold face that looked like it was carved out of a lump of granite. My eyes dropped to his ‘give-us-a-kiss’ lips that Cupid would stab you with his arrow for!

  My eyes slowly dropped to his huge barrel chest straining out of his crisp white French-linen shirt, and maroon-silk tie, down to his grey pleated-at-the-waist trousers turned up at the bottom, neatly covering his black handmade laced shoes. I took in a sharp breath, my mouth hanging open, and leaned out of the bed to get a better look at him.

  ‘Katie! Who is your man?’ I gasped in a whisper, trying to get a breath.

  ‘He is not for you, dearie!’ she grinned at me. ‘He’s spoken for!’

  ‘Married?’ I asked, feeling the burst of central heating fly rapidly out through my toes.

  ‘God has grabbed him for himself!’ she continued slowly, grinning at me.

  ‘Whadoyamean?’ I gulped, not understanding.

  ‘He’s a monk!’ she sniffed. ‘Yeah! He’s a gorgeous bit of stuff! Nearly as tasty as my Con,’ she said, eyeing him.

  He walked slowly, ever so slowly, taking slow-motion panther-like steps into the room, and lifted his arms wide, holding out the palms of his hands, and said, smiling at Mabel, ‘Mabel, Mabel! You are not dressed! Come! We have a date! You must be ready. I am impatient to be with your company! I will wait for you!’ Then he joined his hands with such delicacy, putting them together in the air as if he was going to pray. ‘The sun shines just for you. Come!’ Then he turned and looked at us, giving us a fleeting glance, penetrating us with his incredibly green eyes. Then his eyelashes drooped, hooding his eyes as he flicked them over the garden.

  We watched him turn away with the ease and grace of a ballerina. Then he did a slow-motion glide out of the room, waving his shapely arse very slowly from side to side.

  I forgot to breathe, finally letting myself let out a big sigh. ‘Mamma mia!’ I screeched. ‘Where’s he from?’ I asked, swinging my head from one to the other.

  ‘Russia! From Russia with love,’ sang Katie.

  ‘Well! You can parcel him up and send him by Mail
Express post haste, specially for little ole me. Because, girls,’ I said, jumping out of the bed and rushing over to see if I could get another look at him, ‘I have just found the cure for myself!’

  Katie laughed, saying, ‘What about God?’

  ‘He can fight me for him!’ I said, grinning, feeling the life coming back into me.

  34

  * * *

  I was sitting on my bed, yawning and wondering if I should climb in and have a sleep, when the ‘Vision’ appeared in the room and stood looking at me.

  ‘I would like to give Katie her medication,’ he said in a wonderfully singsong, musical, manly, deep baritone voice. I stared, listening with my mouth open. ‘Please! You will help me?’

  He held a glass of water gracefully away from him, and his open palm held tablets. Mabel was missing. That just leaves me and him and the bold recalcitrant Katie! I was out of the bed in a flash, trailing behind him, watching his arse slide from side to side and his long golden hair flick from the side down over his right eye. He glided into the room, with me puffing in behind him, all excited.

  Katie was lying on the bed, nursing her bottle of vintage wine under her pillow, and grinned up at him, saying, ‘Forget the pills! Let’s get us a corkscrew and we’ll open this!’ and she whipped out the bottle.

  The monk grinned, lighting up his whole face, and the room, and me! I was alive again! Energy started hurtling through my veins, reminding me what life was really all about.

  ‘Katie! Katie! You must! Take this! For your baby and of courrse your husband!’ He held out his hand with the medication and said, ‘I beg you! Pleassse!’

  I couldn’t bear to see him struggling with the bold Katie, and I was mad jealous it wasn’t me he was begging!

  ‘Come on, Katie! Sit up!’ I said. ‘Give them to her! She’s going to take them. Sit up, ye messer!’ I said, laughing to Katie and dragging her up.

  She took it no problem and winked at me, saying, ‘Marta, Marta! Why you no have to take de medication yourself? De lovely monk could then take care of you too! Ha, ha!’

  ‘You are naughty, Katie!’ he said, wagging his finger at her. ‘Why do you like to tease me?’

  I nearly collapsed onto the bed, drinking in his wonderfully Russian handsome manliness. He turned, ignoring me, and wafted out the door, my eyes glued on his back.

  ‘God! You’ve got it bad!’ Katie laughed.

  ‘I can’t get over him. He’s so aloof, so distant, yet seems very in control, masterful!’ I gasped out, trying to steady my breathing.

  ‘Hmm! Nor can half of the women in this place,’ Katie snorted. ‘Martha! I’d be careful of that fellow!’ Katie suddenly said, looking ominously at me.

  ‘Why?’ I burst out, feeling a sense of disappointment. ‘You don’t like him?’ I asked.

  ‘No! There’s something . . . I don’t know!’

  I stared at her, trying to see what she sees. ‘Ah! You don’t like him because you have your own fella. And a lovely little baby and your . . .’ I didn’t finish telling her she had a doting mother and a father. ‘You are very secure, Katie! I suppose I would be too, if I was in your position. I certainly wouldn’t be wasting my time running after him!’

  ‘So what are you going to do with him when you catch him?’ she asked, staring at me, looking very serious.

  ‘I don’t know! It’s just the hunt! I want him to notice me. That’s all!’ I said, thinking about it. ‘It’s not very serious, just something to grab on to. That’s all. Any port in a storm, Katie.’ It was giving me something to cling on to, I thought. A reason to live. Then, when I’m on my feet, I’ll be flying again! Meanwhile, it’s great fun.

  Now I know what men get out of chasing women. I thought of all the men who had chased me just so they could get me into bed! They didn’t succeed. It wasn’t me they wanted, just the challenge. But they love the excitement of it. Turning up for a date, covered in beads of perspiration.

  I thought of ‘Trilby’, an aul fella in his fifties. He was an aul bachelor. But he had plenty of money behind him. He was a district justice on the country circuit. He even proposed marriage, knowing full well, of course, I couldn’t take him up on his offer even if I had wanted to. I’m still married to Sarah’s dad.

  Yeah! It’s fun being chased, too. But there’s not much chance of that happening now. I looked down at myself. Jaysus! I look like a skeleton. I still can’t eat!

  We were all sitting out on the passage, at our little table in the corner, when the male patients started wandering in and sitting down on the floor beside us.

  ‘How long have you been here, Jack?’ I asked an emaciated-looking fellow. He was the colour of death, and his face was lined with pain. He couldn’t have been any more than forty. But he looked like he’d had too many lifetimes.

  ‘About a year now. Yeah! I’ll be a year here this coming March,’ he said, thinking about it, looking very pained.

  I stared at him, feeling his pain, and wondering how he manages to keep going. ‘How long have you been suffering from depression, Jack?’

  ‘Oh!’ he said, stretching out his legs and thinking about it. ‘It started in my thirties. I was a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. I was travelling all around the country, away from home. My wife wasn’t happy, and I didn’t get to see the kids much. She was rearing them on her own practically!

  ‘I was under a lot of pressure to perform, get the sales figures up, or I was out of a job. There were plenty of people standing in line behind me, ready to step into my job. So I had no choice really!’ he said, taking a deep drag on his cigarette, keeping the smoke in his lungs, before slowly releasing it. I watched it curling up into the air. Then he said, taking a deep breath, his eyes staring into the beyond, looking into another world, ‘I came home one day to an empty house. Too empty! I knew something was wrong as soon as I got in the door. I waited, thinking she was out shopping, hoping! But I had a feeling in my gut. Normally she would be at home with a bit of food keeping warm in the oven. It was a Friday evening. She knew I was due home.

  ‘I remember putting the kettle on and looking in the oven; of course, there was nothing there! The oven was cold, and so was the house. It was freezing! I suppose that’s what alerted me to something being wrong. Anyway, I started to light the fire when the phone rang. It was her mother. She wanted to know why she hadn’t come over to meet her. They were all supposed to go into town, looking at Communion frocks for Hannah. That’s my little girl,’ he said, looking at us with terrible pain and sadness pouring out of his soul, and staring at us through his kind, soft, blue eyes, now fading from premature old age.

  ‘I couldn’t think where she might be. Her mother said she would ring around her sisters and see if she might have dropped in to visit one of them. I jumped into my car to go out and look for them. All the time feeling a terrible fear in my gut. I knew the shops would be closed. It was well past six o’clock now.

  ‘Well, to cut a long story short,’ he said, lowering his head and taking another deep drag on his cigarette, ‘there was a knock on the door, that evening. Ten minutes to ten exactly. I looked up at the kitchen clock on the mantelpiece as I rushed out to open the door, hoping it might be Evelyn with the kids, hoping she might have lost her keys. When I opened the door . . .’ Then he dropped his head again, going silent for a minute.

  We waited. Holding our breaths. Then he lifted his head, looking at us each in turn, and said slowly, ‘Two policemen were standing there. “Mr O’Connor?” they asked me. “What’s wrong? Is it my wife?” I asked them before they had a chance to even get in the door. “Can we come in?” they asked me quietly, leading me into the hall. I knew something was wrong! I just knew something terrible was after happening. They told me she had gone down to the Quayside, down along the Liffey, and thrown herself and the three children in.

  ‘I never went back to that job. I cursed it! I blamed myself for everything that had happened. I kept at the job because the money was good. We were payi
ng for the house. The repayments were heavy, and good jobs were hard to come by. But in the end, it was the finish of all of us, that job! I’ve been in and out of this place ever since. They’ve given me electric shock treatment. It’s terrible! You lose your memory. Oh! I wouldn’t let them do that to me again.’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t ever let them do that to you,’ he said, warning us.

  ‘We may think we’re badly off,’ I said quietly to everyone. ‘But there’s always someone worse off than yourself. No wonder you’re in here, Jack! I don’t know how you kept going,’ I said, putting my hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Yeah! You’ve had it very rough,’ the others muttered to him in sympathy.

  We looked up as a priest came heading in the door and steamed over to us. ‘Good morning, ladies! Morning, men!’ He nodded to the men, taking a big white hankie out of his long habit pocket and dragging it across his forehead, wiping the perspiration pouring out of him. He beamed at us with his big red face and tried to loosen the three big chins fighting for room inside his thick white-plastic dog collar strangling his neck.

  ‘How are you all this morning?’ he roared at us, like we were all deaf.

  ‘Ah! Not good, Father!’ I moaned. ‘Are you here to give us succour?’

  ‘What?’ he said, leaning down to me, wondering if he heard right.

  ‘This terrible madness is getting the better of me. Do you think, Father,’ I said, looking up at him, ‘they’ll ever find a cure for madness?’

  I looked up, staring at him, waiting for an answer. He stared back, trying to figure out where I was coming from. ‘Would religion help me? Do ye think, Father?’ I pushed.

  ‘Oh! Ah! Indeed it would. Pray! Prayer is the best medicine we have,’ he rushed on, satisfied now he was on firm ground. ‘Would you like me to give you a blessing?’ he asked me, and turning to the rest of them, raised his hands in a blessing.