Chapter 28 #2
“He was admitted to Lindridge after he was sectioned. My role was to advocate for him, look at how he could be supported when he was discharged, be a friendly face for him. It was a positive relationship, and I looked forward to seeing him, which was about once a fortnight. This place isn’t too far from the hospital, so while I was meant to see him monthly, and attended a professionals’ meeting around him once a month, I’d go a bit more often.
He seemed to like the visits, although sometimes he wasn’t that coherent, especially when he knew we were reviewing whether he should stay at Lindridge.
” John looked as if he’d gone back in time, seeing things through a different lens now, maybe.
“With hindsight, we should’ve moved him out of there after six-months, even though he took Kelly-Anne hostage. ”
“What was she like, Kelly-Anne?”
“She was seventeen and shouldn’t have been placed there.
I spoke to her a couple of times when I came to see Charlie.
She was timid and quiet, barely saying much until one day when I saw her drawing a picture of a building, one that was ruined.
I asked her where it was, and she told me it was everywhere, which I found an interesting answer.
She was a talented artist, that was clear, and I told her as much, so every time I came after that, she had another picture for me.
Some were rather disturbing, and I passed them onto the psychiatrist who was treating her or trying to treat her.
She didn’t say much to anyone, apart from Charlie.
” He tapped the table with his finger, a slow rhythmic sequence.
It was a memory trick, helping him pull back details from years ago.
“Was she still close to Charlie after he held her hostage?”
John laughed. “The best of. I don’t think he’d held her hostage at all.
I think it was all Kelly-Anne’s idea because she wanted him to stay in Lindridge with her and she orchestrated the whole thing.
After it happened, she started to open up more, she found her voice, but only when Charlie was around.
It was strange, because some of the staff thought he was controlling her, and I suspected it was the other way round; Charlie couldn’t control himself let alone anyone else. ”
“Why was Kelly-Anne in Lindridge?”
“Eating disorder. She was three to one staffing when she came in, transferred from a place over in Sheffield which was more a short-term place and it was obvious Kelly-Anne would need a lot longer to stand any chance of getting better. She turned eighteen shortly after arriving, at which point I suppose she would’ve transferred here anyway.
She was beset with trauma – her mum had committed suicide, and her dad was her main carer, but I don’t think he knew what to do with himself.
His mum helped out, but I never found out much about her.
” He downed the rest of his brew. “She and Charlie started a relationship, which there were concerns about, but nothing that were founded. It was a shame what happened to her, really. I think that was what drove Charlie to drugs, if I’m honest.”
“What did happen to her?”
“Kelly-Anne? I’ve no idea I don’t think she and Charlie kept in touch once they’d both been discharged – neither of them would’ve been able to maintain contact, they were both too disorganised. What would you have expected Kelly-Anne to do? I mean, given her medical history.”
“She had a long battle with her demons, so I suspect she’d have continued to receive medical care following her eating disorder.
She was painfully thin when I first met her, but in the photos she showed me of her and her friends, she was significantly overweight.
I think she still saw herself as looking like that.
Another kid that didn’t have a chance.” He sighed and looked out of the window at the mix of concrete, glass and stone buildings.
“It’s no wonder why social workers find this job hard.
We know if we could get into families earlier, we could do the preventative work, but there isn’t the funding for that, so all we can do is firefight. ”
“How did you manage such a long career here?”
“I like routine, Detective. I liked being part of the furniture and I knew the families, knew their histories. Then I liked supporting the new qualified social workers, helping them find their feet, and once you’d accepted that you were never going to be able to save the world, and you learned to take the small wins, then it got easier.
I guess that’s the same in your job, or do you still want to save the world?
” His smile was fatherly, almost reminding me of my foster-dad, Cassian.
“Sometimes I think the small wins are still saving the world, just one small step at a time.” I’d learned that from Wrigley. “I try to be kind to myself.”
“That’s all you can be, kid. What else can I help you with?”
“Can you remember Kelly-Anne’s surname?”
He nodded. “Kelly-Anne Marsh, she was. Charlie once told me he was going to marry her and at least she’d have the same initials.” He smiled fondly, clearly a lot of affection for the man he’d supported over so many years. “It didn’t work out like that, but then, things rarely do.”
“What about the second time he went into Lindridge, after he’d cleared the block of flats, was he still in touch with Kelly-Anne then?”
“I think she’d disappeared by then, but he talked about her as if he was still in touch with her.
He was at his worst then; the narcotics weren’t helping, just a coping mechanism, and when he was on a comedown, he was hard work.
Paranoid, impulsive, violent. I was sorry I went on secondment, as I think if I’d been his social worker, I’d have delayed his release from Lindridge, sought another twelve months and then looked at next steps being in a facility, because he was never going to get better.
” John looked into his empty cup. “Time for another. Do you want one?”
I declined, not liking the idea of being stuck on the motorway desperate for the bathroom. “Was there anyone who would’ve had it in for Charlie before he died? Anyone he owed money to, or had managed to upset?”
John laughed, but it wasn’t full of mirth.
“Detective, he was a drug user who had no work and no possessions. He owed money, so there’d have been a list of people pissed off with him a mile long.
His death was inevitable, as some deaths are, as you know.
I couldn’t think of a single person who I’d put at the top of the list. Maybe his dad, just in case Charlie ever disclosed what he’d done to him when he was a kid, but I don’t think Charlie would’ve been able to give a reliable statement – and that would’ve meant he’d unboxed whatever trauma he was hiding.
” He shook his head, forcing a smile. “I just hope he’s at peace wherever he is now. ”
“Maybe back with Kelly-Anne.”
“Maybe. Or maybe someone less toxic.”