as Sylvia squealed and jumped up and down. The other occupants of the Paradise Café, an elderly couple and a few students, watched us warily, while Irene behind the counter gave us an indulgent smile.
That was it, then, I thought. I’d be left here in Lancaster while my oldest friends went off pursuing their lives around the world. If it weren’t for Lee, I’d be looking to escape myself.
“So what’s all this about a party?”
Monday 26 November 2007
When I got home there was mail for me on the table downstairs in the hallway. In addition to the usual bills, there was a large brown envelope with just the word “Cathy” on the front in black marker.
“Coo-ee, Cathy! You all right?”
“Yes, thanks, Mrs. Mackenzie. How are you?”
“I’m fine, dear.” She gave me that hard stare again, while I looked at the envelope on the table without picking it up, and then went back into her flat and shut the door.
I left it where it was and checked the door again, twice over, start to finish. I could have gotten away with once, but the second time enabled me to pick up the envelope with the other stuff and take it upstairs.
I dropped it on the coffee table while I did the checks, but I found I rushed through the first two times because I wanted to see what was in the envelope. I had to force myself to slow down the third time, do it properly, concentrate. When I’d finished I paused. Was that good enough? Should I do it again for good measure, just to be sure? Maybe I’d missed something.
I started again.
It was nearly nine when I sat on the sofa and opened the envelope. A pile of papers, some of them clipped together with a paper clip, and a handwritten note at the front.
Cathy—
Thought these might be useful. Let me know if you need anything. Or if you want to ask any questions.
Stuart
I looked at the note for ages, the way he’d written my name, the way he’d signed his name. I wondered if he’d had to think about what to write. It looked utterly carefree, easy, as though he’d picked up the pile of papers somewhere, casually, and then just scribbled off two lines without even thinking about it.
I went through the pile, and quickly I noticed that there was nothing careless about it at all. The first thing was a sheet about the Center for Anxiety Disorders and Trauma at the Maudsley Hospital in Denmark Hill, and the specialist outpatient clinic for OCD. Then there were articles that he’d printed off various websites, with bits underlined. There was a study about OCD and new therapy options for treating patients presenting with severe symptoms, written by Dr. Alistair Hodge, C.Psychol., AFBPsS, B.Sc. (Hons)., M.Sc., Clin. Psych, Dip., C.B.T., PsychD., DCHyp., SMBCSHA, UKCP and BABCP Registered—and half a dozen other people with equally impressive qualifications. There was a page of alternative therapists that he’d printed off from somewhere, with two handwritten ones added to the bottom, a yoga class meeting at the local primary school on a Wednesday evening, and a Core Relaxation Therapist, whatever that was, with a phone number. The page below that was a list of OCD support groups, with one highlighted and handwritten in the margin “meets in Camden 7:30 p.m. third Tues of month, phone Ellen for details” and a number. Under that, three chapters from a book called Unstuck: Techniques for Freeing Yourself from OCD, with various bits underlined. Then there were three different questionnaires which seemed to be about determining whether you actually have OCD or not.
Finally, unexpectedly, the last page was another handwritten note.
Cathy—
Thanks for looking at all this. You’ve made a start. Call me, okay?
Stuart
Then his phone number again, just in case I’d lost the last one he’d given me, which of course I hadn’t. I knew exactly where the bit of paper was, just in case I needed it, which I never would since I knew his number by heart already.
Not that I was going to use it.
Friday 28 November 2003
Lee was working at the River.
I went to see him, wearing that red satin dress. His face when he saw me was incredible. I gave him a smile and a wink as I passed him going into the club. Through the night, dancing with people I knew, chatting at the bar with some people I hadn’t seen for a few months, then later on when Claire and Louise