The Lost Bookshop(75)

‘Don’t eat it, it’s poisoned!’

I dropped the bread instantly and at this she began to laugh mercilessly. I couldn’t tell if she was crazy or just plain cruel.

‘Leave her alone, Agatha.’

I looked around to find the speaker of these words and was surprised to see a young woman, scarcely twenty by my reckoning, who spoke with an authority beyond her years. I nodded my thanks. It was hard to tell how old any of my cohabitants were, given their state of dress and the mental toll it took being in a place like this.

‘My name is Mary,’ she said, with a gentleness I hadn’t expected. ‘Why are you here?’

‘My brother—’ I found I could not finish the sentence for fear I would burst into tears.

At the sound of whimpering, I saw another grey-haired woman at the end of the table crying aimlessly, and the woman beside me began muttering to herself, a senseless conversation that seemed to have no end or beginning.

‘Go out into the yard!’ This yell from another nurse announced the end of breakfast and everyone was given a threadbare shawl to walk around an enclosed courtyard. It was midwinter and bitterly cold. Added to this, the yard was north-facing and would never see the sun. The thought was like a heavy anchor, pulling my heart southward. It was all too much to bear. I froze to the spot while the others shuffled around me.

‘Get in line!’

I ignored the order. I was too weak to move.

‘Carlisle, get a companion and walk.’ I wasn’t used to being given orders and refused to obey.

‘How many times must I tell you!’ To my utter shock, this order was administered with a slap on the ear.

Suddenly, my life force came flooding back with rage. I was about to hit back, when I felt an arm slip through mine and almost drag me forward.

‘Best to do as they say,’ a voice whispered softly.

I looked to my left and saw Mary, the young woman who had spoken up for me at the table.

‘I shouldn’t be here,’ I said.

‘Do you think any poor creature should end up here?’

I shook my head, but, honestly, I didn’t care about anyone else in that moment. The other women frightened me, their naked faces, devoid of any normalcy. I pulled the shawl around me tightly. I was shivering so badly with cold that my teeth were chattering wildly. I could see the other women’s lips turning purple with cold. It was inhumane.

‘Carlisle, come here.’

It had been so long since I had used my real name that it took me a moment to realise that the nurse, Patricia, was speaking to me. Thank God, I thought to myself. They’ve realised that this is all a big mistake and will release me. I pulled my arm from Mary and thanked her for her kindness, feeling sure I would never see her again.

I followed the nurse apace and once back inside, she led me to a room where I was weighed, measured and then approached by another nurse with scissors who cut my nails to the quick.

‘Why are you doing this?’ I asked.

‘You are to see Dr Hughes,’ she answered.

I told myself that this made perfect sense – a final examination before letting me go. For administrative purposes. Surely that was all it was.

After this perfunctory physical exam, I was led to another room. There, in a white coat, sat a man who introduced himself as Dr Hughes. Now was my chance to speak up for myself, but I found I did not know where to start.

‘Who are you?’ he asked, opening a cream-coloured folder and taking the lid off his pen.

‘I … my name is Opaline Gr—. I mean …’

‘Oh, well, that’s hardly an auspicious start, is it?’ His ability to find humour in such desperate circumstances set me on edge.

‘My name is Opaline Carlisle, but I have been living under the pseudonym of Opaline Gray in order to protect my identity from my brother, who is a violent maniac.’

There. I was clear, coherent and concise. Surely this man would see that I was sane.

‘Where do you live?’

‘Ha'penny Lane, Dublin. I run a small bookshop.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘And you are pregnant?’

‘Yes.’

‘How many men have you had intimate relations with?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Sexual intercourse, Miss Carlisle.’

I felt a rage coursing through my body and took several deep breaths. This is what he wanted, to see me react.

‘Just the one,’ I replied coolly.

‘Your brother informs me that you have led an immoral lifestyle, is that so?’

I wasn’t sure what to respond, so I said nothing.

‘Do you see faces on the wall?’

‘Not at the present moment, no.’

He looked at me with a kind of scorn and I cursed myself for getting smart with him.

‘Do you hear voices?’

‘No, doctor, I do not hear voices. There is nothing wrong with me, you must see that. My brother has engineered this entire charade. He is angry with me because I refused to do his bidding and marry a man I hardly knew. This is his way of punishing me, don’t you see?’

The room fell quiet, save for the sound of his pen scratching his thoughts on to clean, white paper. I wondered where my clothes were and if there was a bus that would take me back to Dublin.

‘That will be all for now, nurse,’ he said, calling for Patricia to come back inside.