Page 86 of No Safe Place
Callum kept his eyes closed, enjoying the shifting levels of darkness behind his eyelids.
In his mind he could still see his skinny sixteen-year-old self, packing to leave his little room – except when he left it hadn’t been a tranquil solo experience. Paige had been discharged the month before but was back for a visit, sitting on the bed learning the “the play’s the thing” soliloquy from Hamlet. Lily was picking out which of his posters she wanted to keep.
‘And then he stood, alone at the threshold of the room. Doorways had always been hard things,’ Maxwell read on. ‘Counting how many times he’d walked through them. How often others had. But—’
‘For this room at least,’ Callum took over, from memory, ‘his count was done. He wouldn’t see the four magnolia walls again, and the only thing he’d leave behind were the Blu-Tack stains.’
Maxwell stayed silent.
Callum opened his eyes. ‘I’m not an egomaniac who memorised their own book, by the way. It took fucking ages to get right.’
Maxwell was still looking down at the page. ‘It’s lovely. A beautiful end to the first act.’
‘For most people, it was the high point.’ Callum held out a hand for the paperback and Maxwell passed it to him. He flicked the pages, enjoying the sound. ‘Most people prefer the half where the main character is completely off his nut. It’s more romantic.’
He froze, book in hand. He’d taken it without thinking,stared at the words as he flicked the pages – not the numbers in the corners.
They sat in silence for a moment. Callum was too hot – the book heavy in his hands. He passed it back to Maxwell, who hadn’t noticed him spinning out, like David would’ve.
As soon as the book was on the other side of the desk Callum felt better.
He was about to ask if they could call it a night, when Maxwell leaned forward.
‘How didyoufeel about David Moore’s paper? At the time, in 2010.’
Callum stretched his arms above his head, then stood up and moved to the window. He knew that, on the fourth floor of this particular ward, it wouldn’t open. The sky outside was a brilliant indigo, and he could feel the last of the day’s heat radiating from the glass.
‘Well, obviously, I told him he could write about me. And he did offer me the chance to read it before he published it, but said I didn’t want to. Pretended I didn’t care.’
He turned back to the room.
‘I thought it would just be the details of how many doctors cocked up giving us an OCD diagnosis, but … it was personal. Really fucking personal. And it was my own fault for not reading it first, but that made me angry.’
Maxwell’s eyes strayed back toDarlings, Obsessedand Callum laughed.
‘I know, I’m a hypocrite, right? I gave my anonymity up anyway, didn’t I? I published that—’ He pointed.
‘It’s not the same—’ Maxwell started, but Cal spoke over him.
‘But now, I’m glad he did it. And if you read that paper, underneath all the bland academic speak, David was soangry. And in hindsight, I’m fucking fuming too: at all the doctorswho fucked us over; at the families who dropped us because they thought we were making it up; at the therapists who didn’t know shit about OCD.’
He swayed slightly on his feet, feeling like he could drop on the spot, fall to the carpet.
Maxwell sat still in his chair, his attention unwavering.
‘Paige summed it up to me once. After the paper was published, she said: “David is worried that if the paper doesn’t go down well, we’ll all think we don’t matter.” But it did go down well. It made a difference, because wedidmatter.’
His eyes were unfocused, staring at a point over Maxwell’s head. ‘Paige, she was the youngest, but she was the cleverest.’
Usually, he couldn’t talk about Paige without crying, or nearly crying. And David – David was dead now too.
‘She was a fucking good liar – did I tell you that already?’ He looked at Maxwell, who shook his head. ‘Well, she was. She would have been a famous actor by now.’
The medication was turning him zombie, and his voice sounded flat and tired.
‘And I’m rememberingwhyI wrote the book. Why I worked so hard to get it published. Because I wanted tohelpsomeone, Dr Maxwell. That’s what David did, and that’s what Paige would have done, if she’d lived past fucking nineteen. I thought that if one person could read it and find it useful or see some part of their own experience in it, then—’ He threw his arms up and let out one bark of laughter. ‘Well then maybe it wouldn’t all have been for nothing.’
Maxwell gestured to Callum to sit back down, and he did.
