Brian ,fresh from germinating his idea about Aunt Lucy’s cottage,hurried from Jenny’s home to his flat in Battersea.He had lived there for a while now and with the support of his mum while she was alive ,and now Jenny,he had bought it outright as it suited him for its size and its proximity to the river that he loved.Even in his darkest days,he always found something good about the goings on around the river with its trade and constant marine craft going through its channels.
Now that he seemingly had “a country dwelling ” all of his own,he wondered if he would stay in his flat .His friends had either moved to more scenic and inspiring places to pursue their art,while he had remained i the same place for decades now,quite the city recluse,the bohemian lonerHe knew that his fragile mind tended to play havoc with relationships ,leading to constant breakups and disharmony seemed to be his calling card.Sometimes,he thought that the only constant in his life was Jenny and she had her limitations because of the demands of being a Consultant ,and a children’s cancer one at that meant that there were limits to what she could do for him.
The revelations in the loft of aunt Lucy seemed to be taking its toll on Brian,leaving him exhausted one minute,and ready to co query the world the next.He seemed to oscillate from one extreme to the next ,never really being able to exist on an even keel .He knew that the private therapy treatment that Jenny was paying for had helped in some way,but following his urgent train journey back from Cornwall ,armed with the press cuttings and family secrets that he had thought he had discovered,he now found himself in this dark place where he lacked direction ,unable to navigate,to see a way clear,
Normally,his flat was a bolt hole ,a refuge,a place where he lived and worked and where his studio had sort of grown with him over the years.Now,even though he had two places to live as such,it all seemed to be outside of him,as if it were somehow fraudulently obtained,Yes,he knew that his mum and Jenny had always loved out for him,always picked up the broken glass shards of his life ,but somehow now,he felt that they had done all this at the expense of something tragic.They had both carried with them his aunts tragic life ,lived it with her,but had excluded him.Far from being the man of the family,he felt like an emotional eunuch,divorced from the whole,from the reality that truly had been their life.As he again reflected on the life of aunt Lucy ,he played over the tale of certain holidays,pictures of darkness amidst the light that was always portrayed and he didn’t seem to know how to process the dark,Now,like a profound vision of horror,he could picture just why the atmosphere was like it was at Cardinham,,it just began to make sense,
Not a couple of hours ago,Brian had been dreaming of wonderful things that could be achieved at Aunt Lucy’s cottage:Now,in this time space,he allowed the potential darkness of its social history to dictate the tremor of desperation that he felt about it,Just how would he ever Inject light into a place that was the scene of a murder?As he thought about it,the press cuttings became like the shards of glass ,only this time they penetrated his femoral artery,emotionally causing him to bleed to death,
Regaining consciousness,Brian looked at the wall of the Maudsley hospital ,the familiar place to him the last few years,but this admission had been traumatic to say the least.Nurses attended his every need,with Doctors appearing at regular intervals to check if the medication was having the desired affect.Brian became passive,genial,a far cry from the frantic,almost wild animal type person that greeted the emergency services following Clarissa’s ,his neighbour and fellow artist,intervention.He thought if his mum,missing her,wanting her to come to his side but knowing that she wouldn’t.He asked the nurse if his sister had been informed of his admission and told that she had and would be in to see him later that evening,
Brian would ,as always,need a long period of time to stabilise himself,with treatment being ordered by statute as mental health was administered to the presumed mad in a very regimented and prescribed way at that time,He knew that he must have sessions with the staff here to boost the ECT regime of treatment that normally followed such an extreme episode such as this,
His only real advocate,Jenny,would make sure that he was safe,and would ensure that any damage or blood caused by the slashing of his wrists would be cleared up as she always had done,Like a child who had wet the bed often,the comfort of knowing that it would be alright was a constant savour to him .
Meanwhile across the river,Jenny had put the phone down after having spoken to a doctor in a hospital in Exeter regarding a child that needed urgent care at Great Ormond street.She thought about her brothers wanting to cook for the fragile family this morning,his excitement about an idea for the future,and then ,after making sure that she was indeed alone,she’d many tears for her brother,She had known what his condition could mean,but he had never deliberately become so ill.As she made her way over to the Maudsley,her heart thumped inside of her as she contemplated the sight that might confront her,Even though she had been hardened in seeing so many children die in her care,This was oh so different.It was her brother,her baby brother whom she teased,looked,and had made fun of as his big sister,But she desperately loved him ,wanted him to be well again.