Monthly Online Book Review and Listings Magazine ~ March 2009

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 stories & features

Philip Glenister Interview

Heraklion: Outcast

Secret Agent

Through a Glass Darkly

Owen Owen Painting

Archives

 

Chapter One>>

Chapter Two >>

Chapter Three >>

Chapter Four >>

Chapter Five>>

Chapter Six >>

Chapter Seven >>

Chapter Eight >>

Chapter Nine >>

 

Other stories by Phyllis in the Books Monthly Archive:

 

A SOFT WHITE CLOUD

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

 

Ashes to Ashes

Pen Friends
Plight of the Golden Weaver

The Train Journey

Himself
Wind in the Rushes
The Advertisement
The Popcorn went Plop!
A Good Deed
Cul-de-Sac
The Old Chief
The Unwelcome Guest
So Well Remembered
The Mini Saga
Eddie and the Deadly Python

 

 

 

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY

by Phyllis Owen

 

 CHAPTER   TEN

  Karen looked uncertainly at the woman not knowing what to expect.  It felt as if a cold hand had clutched at her heart.  The woman blinked as tears welled up in her eyes and suddenly she was convulsed with deep gasping sobs.

  Filled with an overwhelming sense of compassion, Karen put her arms around her and gently drew her close.  It seemed to Karen that gradually the tension, the anguish and the torment were being released from the dishevelled, unkempt woman.  After what seemed like an eternity, the sobbing ceased.

  “Come, lie down and rest,” whispered Karen, soothingly.

  The woman, with almost childlike obedience, allowed herself to be led to the bed.  She lay down and Karen covered her with a blanket.  Her features were no longer contorted and, with her face composed and relaxed, she dropped off into a deep sleep.

  Some time later Karen heard footsteps in the corridor.  The door opened and a sister entered the room  For several moments she stared at Karen, aghast!

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Karen began to explain that she had lost her way, but the sister cut her short and propelled her through the door and into the garden.

  “What’s your name, child?” she asked, brusquely.

  “Karen.  I…I’m a patient here,” Karen stammered.

  “In the anorexic ward, no doubt,” retorted the sister, looking her up and down.

   Karen nodded.

  With that the sister turned hurriedly and walked back into the building.

  Karen stood looking about her helplessly.  Then her eyes brightened.  In front of her was the path leading to the anorexic ward.  She made her way back.  The ward was empty.  She sat on the bed and began shaking uncontrollably.  Finally, when the shaking had stopped, she lay down and fell asleep.

  “Wakey!  Wakey!” called Tarryn.

  Karen sat up in a daze.

  “You missed some excitement this afternoon.   A young man came to show us how to play polo, and we had a wonderful time.”  Tarryn’s laugh tinkled through the ward.

  Karen yawned. “When’s tea time?   I’m thirsty.”

  “Oh, you and your tea,” chuckled Tarryn, as she pushed Karen back onto her pillow.

 

  Karen had almost finished working on the novelty coathanger the occupational therapist had taught them to make that morning, when one of the nurses came into the ward.  “Karen, Matron wants to see you in her office, pronto!” she said.

  Karen’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Whooo!  Karen!  What have you done now!” laughed Cheryl.

  Karen blushed and playfully shook her fist at them as she ran out of the door.  She clattered down the stone staircase and into the courtyard.  Just off the courtyard was Matron’s office.  Karen opened the door fearfully and walked in.

  Matron was sitting at her desk talking to a well-dressed woman.  “Sit down, Karen,” she said, pointing to a chair next to the lady, who smiled at her.  She was wearing a pale blue suit with a frilly white lacy blouse, and her brown eyes were twinkling.

  “This is Mrs. Van der Post, Karen.  She says she knows you,” Matron said.

  Karen looked blankly at her as the lady took her hand affectionately.  “Karen, do you remember a week or so ago you mistakenly came into my room?”

  Karen stared at her.  “Surely this…could it be…that lady..the tormented soul?”

  “Yes, Karen, it’s me.  That poor miserable woman!  It’s thanks to you that I’m well again.  I lost my little girl over a year ago, in a car accident, and refused to accept her passing.  It was your love and compassion that helped me to return to reality.   I’m going home now and wanted to call on you to say thank you.”

  “It was a pleasure,”spluttered Karen, taken aback.

  Mrs. Van der Post stood up.  “Matron, I must leave now.  Thank you for your help.” She shook Matron’s hand, then turned and kissed Karen.  “Goodbye, my dear, and thanks once again.”

  She left.

  “Karen, I must congratulate you on a fine piece of work,” Matron came in.  “Why didn’t you tell anyone about your experience?”  Then, without waiting for Karen to reply, Matron went on, “What made you go there in the first place?”

  After Karen had told her the whole story, Matron smiled and said in mock severity, “Just as well it turned out well, but please keep away from that part of the hospital in the future.  It could just be dangerous.”

  “Oh, I will, I will,” Karen assured her as she walked out of the office.

   “Well?” demanded Tarryn and Cheryl when Karen returned to the ward.

  “Well, what?” Karen asked, innocently.

  “What happened in Matron’s office?”

  “Oh, that!” she said offhandedly.  “Some lady was there saying she knew me, but I didn’t recognise her.”

  “My coat-hanger’s finished,” called Tarryn. Much to Karen’s relief, the subject had been changed.

  The next day an enormous bowl of flowers arrived at the ward.  The girls turned to each other, laughing excitedly.

  “Wow!” exclaimed Cheryl, “Who’s the lucky one?”

  “It’s for Karen,” said Tarryn as she read the name on the card.

  “For me?” Karen was flabbergasted.  She read the note shakily.  “With grateful thanks, Sylvia van der Post.”

  Karen relunctantly recounted the story.  Cheryl and Tarryn listened in amazement.

  “Talk about excitement,” mused Tarryn, “While we were enjoying a polo game, there you were living out a real-life drama!  Life is more interesting than any story one can make up about it.  You’d better be careful, this place will offer you a job one day.”

  “No thank you, not in my line!” exclaimed Karen.

  Picking up the bowl of flowers she placed it in the centre of the table.  “Now we can all enjoy them.”

  Karen, Cheryl and Tarryn were attending the hospital school and would soon be writing their final examinations.  Cheryl and Tarryn had been told that they could leave immediately after the examinations were finished.  Karen’s parents were due to arrive at that time for family therapy and she hoped that Ross would also release her.

  The day before the examinations, the girls went to the pool to relax for a while.  Karen was disturbed about Cheryl.  Ever since she had come back from her shopping expedition the previous evening she had been unusually quiet.

  Splash!  Karen jumped into the pool.

  “Hey!  Stop that splashing,” Cheryl called out.  “I only want to sunbathe.”

  “If you want to sunbathe, do it somewhere else, not round the pool,”  retorted Tarryn.  “We’re going to play water polo.”   Then, in a pleading voice, she added, “Join us, Cheryl.   We need another player.”

  “No!  I’m going back to the ward,” Cheryl snapped and walked away.

  “What’s wrong with her?” asked Karen.

  “Just a bad mood,” replied Tarryn.  “Forget about her.  She’ll be all right soon.”

 “I think there’s something needling her,” Karen said, frowning.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s back in the early stages of anorexia.”

  “Don’t be such an alarmist, Karen,” laughed Tarryn.  “Surely we’re allowed to be moody sometimes.”

  “But Cheryl isn’t like that.”

  “Mmmh!” mumbled Tarryn, shrugging her shoulders.  “Let’s choose sides.”

  Some younger children nearby joined them and it took a little time to sort out their team.

 Karen continued to feel uneasy about Cheryl.  She could not keep her mind on the game and, after a few minutes of play, decided to give it up.  Tarryn also lost interest in the game.  They went back to the ward where they found Cheryl lying on her bed staring at the ceiling.

  “It’s almost suppertime,” said Tarryn. “I’m going to change quickly as I want to speak to Melissa from Block Four.  We’re going to organise an end-of-term party. Are you coming, Karen?”

  “No, not yet.  I’ll see you in the dining-room,” Karen replied, grabbing her clothes and running to the bathroom to change.

  The girls now enjoyed the priviledge of eating all their meals in the communal diningroom.  No one watched what they ate any more, but their weight was still checked regularly.

  Back in the ward Karen looked at Cheryl, who was still lying on her bed staring up at the ceiling.

  “Cheryl, come for a walk with me,” she suggested. “It’ll soon be supper time but we have a few minutes to spare.”

  “No!  I’m not having supper tonight,” retorted Cheryl, irritably.

  There was a tightness around her mouth and a look in her eyes that told Karen something was definitely amiss.  Is it what I feared? she wondered.  Has Cheryl had a set-back?

 Karen walked to Cheryl’s bed.  She felt she had to say something but was at a loss for words.  Cheryl was obviously not in a receptive mood.  “Cheryl,” she whispered.

  “No preaching please, Karen,” Cheryl said flatly, turning her head away.

  “I’ve no intention of preaching to you.  You have obviously made up your mind to stay here so there’s nothing I can do to change it,” Karen said, earnestly.

  “What do you mean chosen to stay here?” Cheryl snarled.

  “Look at you.  Back to stage one.  Anyone with any knowledge of anorexia can recognise the signs immediately.”

  “Is no one allowed to be normal?” Cheryl wanted to know.

  “Is your behaviour normal?  Be honest now.”

  “Well….yes…I just feel annoyed,” she replied without conviction.

  “What has made you feel annoyed?  Surely you can tell me.  We’ve become good friends.  More like sisters than friends.”

  “Can’t you leave me alone?  You’re prying, Karen.”

  “I can leave you alone.  I would too if I were not so fond of you.  But I refuse to sit by and watch you go back to square one.  Remember how concerned we all were when Petra was so very ill?”

  Cheryl nodded.

  “Did you call that prying, when we kept asking Sister Rose how she was?  We are friends, Cheryl, and friends share the hard times as well as the triumphs.”

  Cheryl gave Karen a defensive look.

  “We were genuinely concerned for Petra’s health.  You could call that prying if you like,” Karen said softly.  “If you keep on sulking, and that’s what it appears to be, you won’t be going home on Friday.  Oh, darn it, Cheryl,” she added, impatiently, “you know what it means.  If you are not down for meals, the staff will notice it immediately and will want to know why.  We must have a good reason for missing our food.”

  Cheryl stared defiantly at her.  A sense of  hopelessness came over Karen because it seemed as though nothing she said would lift Cheryl out of her gloom.

 

 

Books Monthly is published on the first day of every month. If you'd like me to publish a story you've written, please e-mail me at editor@booksmonthly.com ~ no payment, I'm afraid, as I don't make any money from the magazine. The length of your story is no problem - long or full-length stories can be serialised. Similarly, if you have a feature article on a book, author or artist you would like me to publish, e-mail it to me and I'll fit it in. Deadline for inclusion in the next month's magazine is 15th of the month