‘I don’t know. There was something about him.’ Frank frowned, then said softly, ‘You never met my brother, did you?’
‘No. He’d gone to America just before we went up to Oxford.’
‘He came over for the funeral after Mother died. Only a few weeks ago, but it feels like years. That’s when it all started.’ He shook his head.
‘I’m sorry,’ David said.
‘She had a stroke. My mother. She didn’t suffer.’ Frank spoke almost indifferently. David remembered his terrible sense of loss and inadequacy when his own mother had died. But he knew Frank and his mother had never been close.
‘Edgar’s divorced,’ Frank went on. ‘He wanted Mother’s house sold quickly. He drinks, and he could always get nasty. Anyway, one day he was at my flat and I lost my temper and I pushed him and he fell out of the window. It was an accident, the frame was rotten. And it was all about nothing really,’ he added, giving that old rictus of a smile. He had told the story quickly, but carefully, as if it were rehearsed or memorized.
‘Not like you, to lose your rag, Frank,’ David said gently.
‘No. And if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be in here.’ He gave a sad little laugh. ‘Actually I’ve always been frightened I might end up somewhere like this one day. I know they always thought I was pretty odd at work.’ He hesitated again. ‘Maybe you thought so too.’
‘No. You were shy, that’s all.’
Frank looked at him. ‘It was just an accident. What happened.’
David thought, but didn’t say,
‘The trouble is,’ Frank went on, ‘the hospital’s been trying to get in touch with Edgar but he won’t return their calls. I can’t blame him, I suppose, but he’s the only relative I’ve got now and that leaves me in a bit of a hole.’ He rubbed his hands nervously down his thighs, the two wasted fingers on the right one pale as chalk, then started picking at the fabric of the chair arm with his good hand. ‘I’ve got the money to go somewhere private, and the sale of Mother’s house will bring in more though it’s all held up for now. But I can’t touch it, you see, I’ve been certified as a – a lunatic, and a trustee has to be appointed to deal with my money. Maybe you know, David, do I have to have a trustee? With your father being a lawyer, maybe you could ask?’
‘I’m sorry, my dad’s in New Zealand. He emigrated years ago—’
‘Yes. Of course, you told me in a letter.’ Frank hesitated, then said in a rush, ‘They’re bringing in a law to sterilize some lunatics, did you know that? And they give people electric shocks here, and there are worse things, brain operations. I want to get out of here. If I could get to some private institution somewhere, it might be better. I might be safer.’
‘Safer?’
‘I mean, somewhere they’d leave me to be quiet. Give me a room on my own and just leave me. I wouldn’t do anything like – what I did – again.’
‘I’ll see what can be done.’
‘I’m so tired, David,’ Frank said suddenly.
‘I can see that, old chap.’ David smiled kindly while Frank collected himself.
‘University seems like a hundred years ago now. I was grateful to you, you know, the way you used to take me out with your friends. I know I was strange, it must’ve been embarrassing sometimes.’
The brutal honesty was unexpected. David didn’t know what to say. Frank shook his head. ‘I used to enjoy our talks, about politics and things. It’s a different world now, everything seems to be getting worse, all the violence everywhere. Here, in Europe, the war in Russia. We never thought it would get as bad as this, did we?’
‘No. I often wonder how we’ve let it happen.’
‘You must see things up close, in the Civil Service.’
David looked away. ‘Not really.’
‘I used to try not to think about it, just live quietly. Most people do that, don’t they?’
David looked over at Ben, then back at Frank. ‘Ben said that when you were admitted you were shouting about the end of the world. Is that what you meant, the world situation?’
‘Yes. Yes, that’s what I meant.’ Frank spoke quickly and David sensed he was lying. ‘David, I’m so sorry about your son,’ he said again. ‘That must have been dreadful.’
‘We miss him.’ There was silence again. ‘Look here,’ David said, ‘would you like to say hello to Geoff? He’s just outside.’
Frank thought for a moment, then sighed. ‘Yes, why not?’ David realized Frank didn’t want anyone else to see him in this state, understood how much it had cost to appeal even to him, the shame he must feel. But the Resistance people had wanted to get Geoff’s views, too, if possible.
‘Let’s go get him,’ Ben said. He inclined his head for David to follow him. David had hoped Ben might go and fetch Geoff, leave him alone with Frank for a minute, but he wasn’t going to. David got up and went to the door, pressing Frank’s shoulder as he passed. He and Ben went through the day room, aware of more curious glances. Geoff was sitting in the office, looking out at the mist.
‘He’ll see you,’ Ben told Geoff.
The three of them went back to the quiet room. Geoff went over to Frank and shook his hand firmly. ‘Hello, Frank,’ he said.
‘Thanks for coming. Sorry to drag you here.’
‘That’s all right,’ Geoff said, with a too-brisk heartiness. ‘We’ll have to see what we can do to help you.’
‘David wrote saying you’d lived in Africa.’
‘Yes. Kenya. Been back a few years. I work at the Colonial Office in London now, just round the corner from David.’
‘Are you married, too?’
‘No. Not yet.’ Geoff gave his sharp little bark of laughter.
‘Not met the right girl yet, eh? Like me.’ Frank gave his new sad smile.
‘Oh, I met her all right, but she didn’t think I was the right man.’ Geoff bit his lip, then said, quietly, ‘I’m sorry to see you in here.’
‘You know what I did to my brother?’ Frank asked suddenly.
‘Yes. It was a surprise. You must’ve been provoked.’
Frank blinked. ‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said eagerly. ‘I was. That’s what I told the police.’
David said, ‘Apparently Frank’s brother got pretty drunk and offensive.’
‘There you are, then.’ David looked at Geoff. He had made Frank brighten up a little.
‘Your brother’s some sort of scientist, isn’t he?’ Geoff continued.
‘Yes.’
‘He won’t help?’
‘No. He won’t even reply to telephone calls.’
Geoff glanced at Ben in the doorway. He shook his head slightly.
‘Listen, Frank,’ David said. ‘I’ll get in touch with my father’s old firm, see if I can find someone who deals with – well, this area of law. See what we can do.’ As he said it he thought, our people probably won’t let me do that. To make it worse Frank’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. He leaned forward, cradling his head on his good hand, and began to cry, a desperate, lost sound. ‘I’m sorry,’ he sobbed. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t seem to – to control myself this afternoon.’
Geoff said gently, ‘It’s all right.’
Frank pulled a dirty handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. He looked up, his face red now. ‘I just want to get out of here. I can’t trust anyone, I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t any more. Oh, if only Edgar hadn’t come.’
David put a hand on his shoulder once more. ‘We’ll help you, Frank, we’ll do all we can.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘You can trust us. But don’t tell anyone else we’ve been here, not yet.’ He looked at Geoff. ‘Let’s find out what we can do first.’
Afterwards Ben took them back to his office. They lit cigarettes. Ben said, ‘You two look fair puddled.’
‘What?’ David frowned. He wished the nurse would talk properly.
‘Done in. Knackered.’
