‘Which books did you like best?’
‘Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice. Anything and everything by George Eliot. Oh, and The Complete Guide to Tropical Diseases. A fascinating read – I can highly recommend it. It was one of my father’s old medical books. He’s a doctor. He collected them. I worked my way through practically his entire collection.’
He laughed. ‘Are you quite sure you haven’t stepped out of a storybook yourself?’
‘Lately, I’ve been wondering exactly that myself,’ she replied. ‘But I’m one hundred per cent real, I assure you.’
She hung the painting back up. In the far corner of the room she made out an old-fashioned washstand with a ewer and basin. Then she noticed that over the back of a nearby chair was a soldier’s uniform – but not like any modern army uniform. The sleeves bore a distinctive insignia – two badges enclosed by braided bands.
It started to rain. First softly, then quickly much harder. Robert screwed his eyes shut. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘I must have knocked my leg when I got back into bed.’ He groaned. ‘Has it started bleeding again?’
In the gloom she saw a dark patch seeping through.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. What happened? How did you get this?’
‘Shrapnel wound.’
‘Shrapnel? How did you get wounded by shrapnel?’
‘There’s rather a lot of it flying around at the Somme just now.’
The Somme? Robert Lovett, if that really was his name, was clearly delusional. But Louisa said nothing. Although she hadn’t been a psychiatric inpatient for long, she was already learning that it was safer to go along with people’s fantasies than challenge them.
‘I’m going to find help,’ she said. ‘I’ll be straight back.’
He lifted his head. ‘Don’t get yourself into trouble, will you? And… I say, you will come back, won’t you?’
‘Of course! I’ll be as fast as I can.’
‘No, I mean you will come back and see me again, won’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she called as she left the room. ‘I promise.’
She ran down the stairs and back through the abandoned ward. Did he truly believe himself to be a soldier of the Great War? She’d heard some strange things since she’d been admitted, but this was pretty off the wall. How on earth had he got there? Was he a patient at Coldbrook Hall? Had he, like Kerry, managed to find a way over into the abandoned wing? Or had he come from somewhere else entirely?
She found her way back to the courtyard, where Kerry was lying on her operating table, smoking.
‘What’s up, Doc?’ Kerry asked, then laughed at her own joke.
‘You’ve got to come!’
‘What’s going on?’
‘There’s someone here!’
Kerry shot upright. ‘Shit! We can’t be seen over here. I think I know another way back—’
‘No! It’s not staff. There’s some guy upstairs. I think he’s delusional.’
‘Oh,’ said Kerry, lying back down. ‘I didn’t think anyone else knew how to get over here. Oh well. As long as he doesn’t come bothering us.’
‘But he needs help.’
‘No, thanks. I have more than my fill of delusional people every bloody day. That’s why I come here – to get away from the buggers.’
‘But he’s hurt. And he can’t see.’
Kerry sighed. ‘For Christ’s sake, Doc. I show you my secret hangout, share my stash, and what do I get as thanks? Another bloody headcase.’ She sat up. ‘If anyone finds out about this place, I’ll go bloody nuts.’ She flicked her cigarette to the ground. ‘OK then, Florence Nightingale, lead me to your dingbat.’
Louisa retraced her steps until they reached the staircase that led up to Robert Lovett’s room.
‘He’s just up here,’ she called back, heading upstairs. But her next words died on her lips. For there was no longer even a door in the doorway, just an empty space within a rotten doorframe with bent, rusty hinges. The room where Robert had been, just minutes earlier, was empty. And not just empty – filthy, ruined and abandoned.
Kerry panted up the stairs behind her. ‘So? Where is he?’
Louisa’s chest was so tight she could barely speak.
‘He… he was in here!’
An ugly tangle of leaves was poking through the window frame where she’d just stood and admired his watercolour of the cliffs. The glass was missing, the shutters a distant memory. And in the middle of the floor the wooden boards had rotted completely away. She stepped back, bewildered, her heart in her throat.
‘I thought you said you weren’t crazy,’ said Kerry. ‘You’re absolutely sure this was the place?’
‘Yes. He… he was right here.’ There was the graffiti, just as before. She felt cold. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Probably just a psychotic episode,’ observed Kerry. ‘I get those. Bloody convincing they are, too. Best not mention it to the shrinks. Not if you’re keen to see the outside world again any time soon.’
‘But… I’ve never had a psychotic episode in my life.’
‘If you’re not already barmy when you’re admitted here, you certainly will be before long. That’s my professional take on things,’ said Kerry. ‘Come on. Let’s go back outside.’
‘But… don’t we have to get back? I’ve been gone for ages.’
‘Don’t be daft, you only just left. You’d been gone a couple of minutes, tops. Come on.’
They went back down. Outside, Louisa lowered herself onto the operating table next to Kerry’s. She saw that the paving stones were bone dry. How could that be? It had just rained. Kerry relit her cigarette and lay back, humming. A robin hopped about. Everything was quiet – but Louisa’s heart was hammering. What on earth was going on?
CHAPTER TEN
Round and round it went in her mind as she lay in bed, listening to the first birds chirping. Had the doctors been right about her all along? Had they been able to peer into her mind and see what she couldn’t – that she was delusional? Convinced of her own sanity, Louisa had managed to hold it all together up until now, certain that sense would eventually prevail. But Lieutenant Robert Lovett had put paid to all that.