A Town Unlike Alice
MANUMISSION BY PHONE
Alice turns out to be perfectly fine, Cathy is brusque with her, almost angry with her, it is as if Alice has put her under duress then snubbed her attempt to help. Hastily, Cathy feeds more coins in and rings Betty. When Betty answers Cathy bursts into tears, and manages to blurt:
“It's Alice.”
“What's she done now?” There is asperity in Betty's tone, Cathy explains, making a muddle of it and still sobbing, Betty sorts the garbled tale out, speaking of Alice with unusual asperity.
Betty: “I can see how tiring that woman is, she's wearing, awful wearing. This is with the hospitals closing, see? All those very sick people are thrown on our goodwill, you yourself have a very good will, but it's been too much. You're white, strained, if you try to carry on like this you'll exhaust yourself and be no use to your Art therapy clients! Ordinary people are having to turn into carers, without specialist training or money to help, it's wear and tear on ordinary people not equipped to deal with what has taken hospitals stacked with consultants, doctors, nurses and psychiatric social workers and occupational therapists, to deal with before. None of this has been costed or thought through, ordinary people who don't vote Tory will bear the burden, let the mentally ill down and exhaust themselves, all to save the government money. The way Labour are going I can't see them changing this even if they do get into power.”
Cathy cries a bit again, seeing the harshness of her own over stretched position, but they are tears of relief, Betty can see her point of view. Cathy: “This is a load off my mind, it's really got to me, I've felt so helpless!”
Betty: “Yes, and what did Thatcher say? The Good Samaritan had money in his pocket? How can that take the place of specialised care, no compassion and love of your neighbour in the world can replace professionals, however willing or foolhardy. And you, look after number one or you'll make yourself ill. Don't see Alice or get in touch for a few days, do some of your sculpture, see some of your friends, have time for yourself.”
Cathy: “Suppose Alice is ill and can't cope?”
Betty: “She'll manage. After all, for all your fears she hadn't taken an overdose or done something silly, had she? I know Alice is ill, she isn't your responsibility, she's got a husband.”
Cathy: “He's out a lot or too tired to talk the way Alice needs, so I worry.”
Betty: “They'll have to sort it out themselves, it's not ideal I know. In fact it's disgraceful! If she's as ill as this she ought to be in hospital! Look at the way people jeer at mental illness, or kid themselves psychiatric patients foam at the mouth and wave knives, but there you are, there's been no attempt by the government to educate the community to care and Labour are just as bad, Labour politicians use the same abuse. You can only care for so many and you're the one I care about. I'm sorry for Alice but there it is.”
Cathy says her goodbyes and rings off, relieved and pleased by Betty's care for her.
A FORTNIGHT LATER
Cathy has had a fortnight's respite from Alice, after work she has caught up with friends and had her university mate Di from Sheffield, to stay. This was hilarious and productive of many late night sessions with wine and animated conversation, Di has urged Betty's advice on Cathy and convinced her she won't be a horrible person if she takes care of herself first and foremost, and made her promise to come to Sheffield soon and report on her progress. At the weekend Cathy and Di went shopping, Cathy bought bright pink leggings and multi coloured knitted leg warmers from a charity shop which will be bright, cheerful and eccentric for work. She's pleased with her new clothes, they give a girl a lift in morale, and then Cathy and Di found cheap henna in an Asian shop and treated each other's hair so Cathy's chrysanthemum dark bush of wiry curls has a deep red tinge.
“I feel like me again” thinks Cathy to herself as she works on a Raku clay figurine of a birdwoman sitting reading, arms propped on drawn up knees, she is absorbed and happy and that strained feeling of bearing a great burden has slipped away, she is Cathy Cathy Cathy again. What had got to her so much she freaked on her comet watching walk? Not only too full a sensitivity to Alice's thoughts, but an overwhelming sensation of Alice the personality thinking such terrible thoughts, and the despairing realisation that she alone could not change Alice the personality, moreover Alice the personality was trying for a niche in Betty's affections!That was what made Cathy feel swamped and cheated of her own private support network. But Alice is a person, not Cathy's pet project, Cathy's pet schizophrenic. Did I really think of Alice like that, wonders Cathy? Yes, in all honesty, I did, I didn't like it when she acted as a person in her own right, I promptly spat with jealousy and resentment! But as Oliver Sachs says, don't ask what disease the person has got, ask what person the disease has got hold of: if Cathy is to resume her one sided friendship she must get to know Alice the person not Alice the disease. Well I do know her, thinks Cathy, and I'm not sure I like her. She is surprised by this, and pushes her specs up the bridge of her nose, smearing specs and face with grey Raku clay. But this figurine, this intent, reading figure, will be for Alice. As a mark of respect and care? No, thinks Cathy with characteristic honesty, it's more a valedictory present, and she is suddenly pleased and freed as if given wings by the thought, if she gives this reader to Alice she will have paid her score! Cathy wipes her gungy fingers on a damp cloth and continues shaping and adjusting the grey clay, there is the whole point of herself freed from an intolerable burden in working well now.