Wonderland by Marie O'Regan

Author:Marie O'Regan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan

Vanished Summer Glory

RIO YOUERS

ROSEMARIE

I know this is irregular, and I feel just awful to have asked, but thank you, David. Thank you for seeing me. As a friend, of course. As Charles’s friend, to be more accurate. I just… I didn’t know who else to talk to.

Yes, I’m comfortable. Thank you. This is a charming space, and that view. Is that Skeffington Hill? I thought so. Charles and I used to walk there, at the beginning, you know, when it was all new and exciting. Charles once climbed a most magnificent elm up on that hill and went so high that I lost him in the boughs.

Oh, I’m blithering. I apologise. Do stop me, I shan’t be offended. Charles would stop me in a moment. “I listen to blithering all day,” he would say. “I don’t want to hear it from you.”

Yes, he was often direct. But not unkindly so. He had a good heart.

Has. He has a good heart. I’m not ready to refer to him in the past tense. That would be like shovelling dirt on an empty grave. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean he’s not coming back.

Or at least… oh, I’m sorry, David, I’ve always been quick to cry. Thin blood, that’s what my mother used to say. It’s funny the things you believe when you’re young. I sometimes wonder if the journey—the adventure—from childhood to adulthood is curtailed by our willingness to discount the make-believe.

There’s something else I’ve been wondering, David. Nonsense, I’m sure, but such thoughts have a way of taking hold, especially in the small hours. And I must be careful how I phrase this, because of your profession. I intend only the greatest respect. But given Charles’s… condition, I feel it worth examining.

I’m talking about influence.

Yes, I can elaborate. I think so, at any rate. Give me a moment to collect my thoughts.

Okay.

If a person surrounds himself with liars, he is apt to deal in deceit. If a person chooses thieves for friends, he is apt to steal. Does the same rule not apply to psychiatry? Charles was a brilliant doctor, but he delved so frequently into delirium. Isn’t it possible that, after a while, he too…?

Ridiculous, I know. I’m so sorry, David. Maybe this has been a waste of your time. And you’re right, he was grieving—desperately. He knew he was going to lose his sister and he was scared. Except… except…

Okay, I’m reaching, I know I am. But isn’t that the point of talking? Isn’t that what you and Charles do? People sit in this chair, and they reach, and you help them to grab hold of something. There’s more to it, of course, but really, at its core, psychiatry is guidance.

But what if instead of you guiding them, they guide you?

Too fanciful?

Forgive me. It’s just… well, grief is too convenient an explanation. I believe there was something else going on. In fact, I can state with some confidence that Charles started to fracture when he took on a certain new patient.

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