she says to the social worker. ‘I guess we do have a plan.’
‘I mean that,’ Mum says when she hangs up the phone. ‘You are to call me if you’re going to go on a bender.’
‘It won’t happen again.’
‘But if it does.’
‘It won’t.’
‘I won’t try and stop you,’ Mum says. ‘I won’t say a word, but you’re to promise me that you’ll call me and I’ll take Charlotte.’
I nod.
But that’s not enough for Mum.
‘I promise.’
‘Good,’ Mum says. ‘I think they’re going to close.’
‘Close?’
‘Close the case.’ Mum’s more than used to it. ‘They just need to know that Charlotte’s safe,’ she squeezes my shoulder. ‘Bloody hell, Lucy, why didn’t you just go and get some cream?’
‘I didn’t want to leave her,’ I say. ‘I was scared she might wake up and not know where I was…’
Like I used to.
I don’t say that, I’m not trying to hurt her now.
‘Do you think she’ll forgive me?’
Mum looks at me and I realise then that I just did.
Hurt her.
I realise what a cruel question I’ve asked her, because, after all these years, I’ve never once forgiven her.
I don’t even know if I do now.
‘That’s up to Charlotte,’ Mum says.
‘Do you think we’ll ever get back what we had?’
‘Probably not,’ Mum’s always honest. ‘You might just get even better.’
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
Doctor Patel has one of those heads that is constantly nodding.
I don't mean to be rude but I have to concentrate on not nodding back as I tell her what's happened.
But sometimes I forget and I do.
‘It wasn't the alcohol, it was the cream…’ I explain.
Nod, nod, nod.
‘And Charlotte found me.’ Nod, nod, nod.
‘But it's not just what happened on Friday night that I'm worried about.’ I spill it all out, a condensed version, of course. I tell her about my lack of personal hygiene, how impossible it is to get in the bath, to take my clothes off sometimes but her eyes don't widen–she just nods.
And she listens.
I tell her that sometimes things get better, sometimes I feel great but it never lasts and I always mess things up.
I start to cry and I tell her that I keep on messing up, not just a little bit, but big time.
She asks questions.
I'm taking up too much of her time, I tell her.
No, I’m not.
Nod, nod, nod.
She asks me questions and she tells me things, she goes through leaflets with me, but properly. I burn when she talks about promiscuity and heightened sexuality. Maybe that explains what happened with Noel and my increasing thoughts about Luke but I don’t want to be bi-polar, I don’t want that to be Charlotte’s mum.
‘I’m not saying that you are, I’m just explaining things,’ Dr Patel says when I start to cry. ‘Depression is very complicated and it’s not something you can manage on your own.’
She really is lovely to me; she really does seem to get me. She just holds my heaving shoulders and she tells me we are going to take things one-step at a time. That, just as depression has many facets, so too does grieving.
‘I’m not grieving.’
She nods but with Doctor Patel, that doesn’t necessarily mean that she agrees.
‘Right now, we need to deal with your grief and then we’ll see how things lie.’
She just keeps right on talking and nodding and when she tells me that maybe I’ve always been a little bit that way, that there are many facets to bi-polar too and that his death has perhaps exacerbated it. ‘A lot of clever people are,’ she says and no-one’s ever called me clever before but I didn’t really want to hear it that way but she smiles when she says it. ‘A lot of notorious people are too.’
And, yes, I guess I can be a bit notorious at times! That’s a very nice word for it.
I’ll keep that one please.
Doctor Patel sort of talks me off the ledge of madness I’ve wedged myself on and tells me that things will calm down.
I’m not going to lose my daughter, she tells me. The social services rang this morning and were pleased to hear that I’d already made an appointment. They’ve already spoken to the school and it would seem that the case is closed.
It was a one off.
I’m not going to lose my daughter, she says again.
I'm to go on tablets she tells me. Just a very low dose but she’s going to be keeping a very close eye and, any hint of suicidal thoughts and I am to ring her. She just