Madness (6 page)

“Antony, this way. We need to get out of here,” Gabrielle called to her cousin.

He shook his head grimly. “But they’ve locked the gates.”

“I guessed. Come on. Bathroom. We haven’t much time.”

The man’s hands gently glided over her breasts once more to grasp her around the shoulders. She shivered with desire and leaned into the contact for a moment.

He now sat up and prepared to stand. He tested his legs, bracing against her and the wall, and said, “I think I can do this. Just hold my arm steady.”

She had to take some of his weight, but she could see he was doing his best to be heroic for her sake, and gripped the wall to straighten to his full height. Then he shook his head, blinked, and squared his shoulders.

"I'm ready. You and the doctor follow as close as you can."

"But I can help—"

He scooped up her unconscious sister as though she were a tiny child. Then he motioned with his head. They moved down the corridor jerkily, his limbs uncoordinated after his seizure.

Gabrielle saw he still seemed dazed, but was determined. He hurried on as fast as he could while the tall man barged through the inmates tussling. They parted like the Red Sea almost as soon as they saw who it was, filling Gabrielle with wonder.

She thanked God for bringing her this helper at their time of need, and hurried after him, while Antony brought up the rear, clutching the discarded chair legs at the ready.

At the end of the corridor was a large bathing chamber with various shelves containing linens. They were placed high up around the room in such a way that an ordinary person would have to use a step ladder to reach them. There were two patients fighting, and two swiving in the corner.

There was a huge tub in the centre of the room, and a number of smaller ones, as well as a large wooden cabinet.

“You get the futterers, I’ll get the fighters,” the tall man said to Antony.

In an instant he had placed her prone sister down gently well inside the door and grabbed the two boxers by the scruffs of their necks.

Antony prodded the bonking man’s backside with one boot. “Hey, clear off mate, it’s our turn to use the room.”

With a stymied blink the couple got up and scurried out. As soon as they were gone the two men barricaded the door with the large cabinet.

The stranger planted himself against it and slid down onto his haunches wearily, his glazed look back once again.

Antony bent Lucinda’s knees and began to examine her.

The golden gaze rested on Antony’s face, saw the doctor’s eyes widen.

Damn
.
The poor girl.

Their gazes met and Antony gave a barely perceptible shake of his head which he hoped the panting Gabrielle hadn’t caught.

“We’re safe for the moment. Do what you have to do. If someone wants to get in here badly enough, they will no matter what. I’ll try to hold them off as long as I can, but it may not be long if I have another fit,” he said quietly.

“You’ve just had a
grande mal
seizure. I need to look at you--”

He shook his head. “You need to look at er, Lucinda, is it, before she loses the baby. I’m not dying. The worst that will happen to me is I’ll fall asleep, or be confused. I’m also going to start going into withdrawal in a few hours when I no longer have enough opiates in my system. You need to help her now. So don't worry about me. Just do it.”

Antony nodded curtly, and flung open his bag.

Gabrielle stared at their companion for a few moments, then ran over to get some linens and anything else she could find to help with her sister.

“I’m Gabrielle,” she said quietly as she worked with her cousin. “How do you know so much about medicine?”

“I’m Simon. I don’t know all that much, but I’ve had a couple of good friends over the years who were doctors, and of course I’ve learnt about my own disease.”

“But what about the opiates?”

“They use them to keep me quiet, control me. I keep trying to stop them, but they put it in the food. If it’s a choice between starving and taking the drug, the drug wins every time. I just have to make sure I don’t wolf down the food and overdose myself. And I can’t hide anything in the cell. They search it almost every day. I can chuck it out the window, down into the back alley behind the hospital, but sooner or later, I have to eat, or die. And I won't give them the satisfaction.”

“I don’t understand,” Antony said as they worked. “Who on earth would-”

“I’m not mad. I’ve never been mad. They know I know things. They’ve left me here to rot. Couldn’t kill me in case they needed me. Please, I have to-” His breath caught in his throat and he began to cringe and tremble.

“Damn it to hell. Not another seizure. Cripes, Gabrielle get the spoon.”

She stared at Simon, wondering again what she was missing about this strangely sane madman. She threw herself onto his chest as he flailed weakly and got a stinging slap on the cheek for her pains. But his eyes were tightly shut, his teeth gritted, and he was thrashing about as if…

Warding off blows, pain.

“I’m here. You’re all right. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’m Gabrielle, and I’d like to be your friend, to help you if you’ll let me.”

“Can’t. If they think you know anything, they’ll kill you,” he said between gritted teeth, his voice barely audible.

She was surprised to get such a coherent reply. She didn’t know that much about epilepsy, but the seizures were usually all-consuming. “There must be something I can-”

“You need to leave me now, Gabrielle. Leave.”

“We can’t. We’re trapped in here. The riot, remember?”

In the ensuing silence they could all hear the screams, shrieks and cries echoing throughout the common ward. A loud crash against the door told them it was only a matter of time before the door burst in if the inmates didn’t calm down soon.

The man continued to shake and tremble.

“Tell me your name. Tell me about your family, your childhood,” she said desperately.

“Simon. I can’t remember anything else. Every time I try I get this searing pain, and then it all goes black. And I can’t recall anything, not my seizures, what I was doing before I passed out. Please, don’t ask me any questions like that. I need to stay with you. Stay sane and coherent. They’ll kill us all if they come through that door.

“Well, I’m a dead man anyway, but I need you to be safe, dear girl. You need to leave London, leave and never come back. Or one day you’ll just disappear, and your poor sister here will never see you again.”

“You’re not mad, but you’re not making any sense. Who are you talking about? Why would anyone want to harm me?”

“You’ve seen them. And me. You need to go. And forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t just leave you like this,” she argued vehemently. “You
 
are clearly not mad. Ill, but not insane. So you don’t belong here. And I refuse to leave you to die.”

“They won’t kill me until they’re sure they no longer need me. I have a little more time.”

“Time for what?” she asked, staring at him with rounded eyes.

“Oh, God, please Gabrielle, don’t ask me! My head! Oh merciful God, my head!”

She cradled his head against her, heedless of her bare bosom, while Antony looked on in consternation.

Simon sounded as though he was in the most excruciating agony. Yet if what he had said about the opiates was true, he ought not to feel such pain.

Judging from his thinness, he might well be at one of his stages where he was trying to wean himself from the drug. That could be why he was suffering from such untold torment.

“Look at his pupils," the doctor ordered. "Tell me what you see.”

She quickly did as she was told. “They’re fairly normal. A bit narrow.”

“Simon, when’s the last time they gave you anything to eat?” Antony demanded.

“This morning. Eight o’clock. I had one sip of water and a mouthful of food. God, I’m so thirsty.”

“Well that’s easy enough to remedy,” she said, rising.

She took a small horn beaker from the side of the sink. She scrubbed it out with some hot water from the boiler near the tub, filled it and brought it over to him. She pressed it to his lips.

“It’s all right, Simon. Pure and untainted. You can have as much as you like. And I have some cake and a sandwich here in my reticule," she said, removing it from around her waist where she had tied it up out of the way. "They're probably a bit flattened, but better than nothing. I brought them to try to tempt Lucinda’s appetite, but she won’t be needing anything now when she's so ill. Come on now, sit up and eat for me.”

“Just watch he doesn’t choke. The drug can also make him nauseous, and he can still be only partly conscious from the seizure.”

“I’ve a strong stomach. Thank you. Cake. Can’t remember the last time-” He clapped his hand to his temple, pressing the heel of his hand into his right eye until she pulled at his wrist, fearful he was going to injure himself further.

“Don’t try to remember anything. Just eat, Simon. Eat quickly, for I fear you’re right. They’ll be coming for us soon.”

The shouts and screams were growing louder by the minute. Gabrielle held the cup for him as he drank thirstily, sloshing water down his bare chest as he continued to tremble.

“Watch your breathing and swallow,” she coaxed softly. “Come on. Chew a bit more slowly. Now take a sip. And don’t bite your tongue.”

“Can’t stop shaking. Need the medicine. It’s been eight hours.”

Gabrielle looked over her shoulder at her cousin. “Can I give him a tincture?”

“Damn it, not again. I bloody hate this,” Antony muttered.

She looked at him, stunned by the vehemence in his tone. “Hate what?”

“I had to do the same for Matthew Dane’s wife Althea when they were first married. Be cruel to be kind.”

“What are you saying?”

Antony sighed heavily. “Administering drugs to addicts to wean them off the drug. Opium can help with pain, but it’s a terrible thing to cure addiction to it. All right. Give him some. One drop. It will ward off the cravings and still keep him with us.”

 
Gabrielle pressed the cup into Simon’s hand and stroked his shoulder. She took the brown bottle and measured the smallest dose she could manage.