Grasping at Water

Chapter 2-1

Two

This is what she said:

All things begin, and all things end, or so it seemed to me. But what if there is no beginning and no end? Only flow. What if everything I had believed all my life was revealed to be completely wrong? What if the world that I have seen for the years of my life was shown to be an illusion? Would I discard the solid illusions of a lifetime in favour of the truth?

She sat behind her desk, staring at the clock on the wall, her eyes fixed on the monotonous movement of its second hand. Tick, click, tick, click. Time moving on, and I am not, she thought as she bowed her head to observe the ringless fingers interlaced in her lap. As the experienced psychiatrist that she was, she made a mental note of the wry smile that accompanied the observation.

The sound of the mobile phone, as sudden and loud as a gunshot in the early morning office, threw her back in the chair. An intake of breath, a moment’s hesitation, and then she slipped into her professional persona to reach for the phone and answer, ‘Dr Kathryn Brookley here.’

She heard the caller make a false start, then a clearing of the throat before a young, male voice rushed, ‘Hello, Dr Brookley. Sorry to call before office hours … but, um, pleased you’ve answered personally. It’s Tim Mason here. An on-duty doctor in the emergency department.’

‘Yes, Dr Mason. How can I help you?’

‘Tim. Please. Just Tim. Ah, there was a woman admitted around seven-thirty am. I think she needs a psychiatric … I think a psychiatrist’s opinion is needed.’

‘I see. Can you tell me something about the woman?’ Kathryn placed the phone on the desk and hit the speaker button, providing a space between the caller and her lack of enthusiasm.

‘Yeah, I can tell you something. And it’s pretty interesting.’

‘Proceed, then. Give me the details, Dr Mason.’

‘Tim, just Tim. Okay. She was fished out of the harbour early this morning. A passenger on the six-thirty ferry from Manly spotted her, floating between the Opera House and Fort Denison. Not long after sunrise. Lucky to see her at that hour, the Marine Area Command officer told me. They were there within minutes of the call. Still, they couldn’t believe she was alive. Eyewitnesses reported that she was floating like a dead person one minute; the next minute, breathing and eyes wide open. Amazing, huh?’

Kathryn covered a yawn but, registering the young doctor’s earnestness, she made an effort to inject some warmth into her tone as she said, ‘Yes, fascinating. So, she’s alive. But who is she? Young, old?’

‘Good questions, Dr Brookley. And that’s what makes it even more amazing. There was absolutely no ID on her and no one fitting her description’s been reported missing in the last forty-eight hours. From the look of her, though, she couldn’t be older than thirty.’

‘Did she say how she came to be in the water?’

‘She hasn’t answered a single question, hasn’t spoken a single word, since being found.’

‘Maybe she fell off one of those big cruise ships. Maybe she’s from overseas and doesn’t speak English,’ Kathryn suggested, flicking off the speaker and taking the phone to her ear again.

‘No, no cruise ships in or out of Sydney since late yesterday afternoon, so if she fell overboard she’s been treading water for a very long time.’ Kathryn heard an awkward laugh before the young doctor continued. ‘And the dress she was wearing when found—looked like it was made from a sack.’

‘Yes, hardly your holiday cruise wear. So … are you thinking she just jumped in, from some point round the harbour foreshores?’

‘I wondered about that,’ offered Tim. ‘It’s possible but, as the officer pointed out to me, there are always people about the quay area and no one reported seeing her jump in. And, in addition, she was right in the middle of the main ferry lanes so … um …’

‘Yes, I see. A bit of a mystery,’ Kathryn said, hoping she sounded sincere. ‘So, where are we? I presume the process of notifying the appropriate authorities to assist in the identification is underway? And what about the physical examination?’

‘Yep. The police are across it; they’ve already started the process of posting bulletins with a general description of her going to all relevant agencies and authorities, and to social media so, hopefully, that’ll turn up some relatives or friends or, at least, some information. The Social Work department is onto it, too. As for the physical examination, there was a doctor on the ferry when she was brought in from the water and he reported that she looked fine the instant she was retrieved. The paramedics, too, found the vital signs to be good, strong. And, my examination … same thing. Remarkably healthy; no discernible physical damage.’

‘Well, perhaps you’re right. It sounds like she might need a psychiatric assessment. I’ll be down to Emergency in about an hour. See you then, Dr Mason.’ Kathryn cut off the call and returned her focus to the wall clock. Tick, click, tick, click. She decided to stare straight ahead for another forty minutes. Tick, click. Then she stood up from her desk, brushed her hair, applied her lipstick, picked up her phone, handbag, and notebook and walked, one foot in front of the other, to her meeting with Tim just Tim, and the mystery woman.

Kathryn knew Tim instantly—the awkward-looking young man bent over tying the laces on his running shoes. As she approached, he jumped up to his full height of two lanky metres, tucked an escaped corner of his shirt back into his pants, took a very deep breath, and thrust his right hand at her for shaking. She ignored the gesture but tried out a smile as she introduced herself, saying, ‘I’m Dr Brookley. But you may call me Kathryn, just Kathryn.’

‘Aw. Great to meet you, Kathryn. Great that you got here so quickly. So, she’s in there.’ Tim indicated a room to the left of the ward desk where they were standing. ‘Should I come with you?’

‘Why is the door closed? If this patient is as unstable as you seem to have been suggesting, she should be under careful observation.’ Kathryn did not try to hide her irritation. ‘I’ll do this initial evaluation on my own, thank you. And I’ll contact you later, Dr Mason, with my opinion. Your mobile number, please,’ she demanded, holding a flat palm out.

‘Here it is, Kathryn. Dr Brookley. Here’s my card. Yeah, sorry about the door. It was open … I don’t know why it’s now closed. And I checked the patient myself only about ten minutes ago. All good. She was quiet and comfortable in the bed. I’m sure I left the door open.’

Kathryn wasn’t listening. She snatched the card from Tim’s fingers and stormed toward the door, twisting its handle and flinging it open before disappearing into the room and closing it firmly behind her.

Kathryn was glad to find the woman’s room was darkened and still when she entered. Perhaps my temper outburst and door-slamming didn’t disturb her after all, she thought as she paused, leaning against the closed door, taking a moment to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the dim surroundings. And, if the woman was asleep, she didn’t want to startle her by flicking the switch and flooding the room with the harsh glare of a hospital ceiling light.

‘Please, please, come in. Come and sit with me.’ Kathryn heard a strong female voice of precise vowels and clear consonants speaking to her. She looked in the direction of the voice and there, to the right of the bed, sitting up perfectly straight in a green vinyl armchair, was a petite but very striking young woman with closely cropped brown hair and wide blue eyes staring intently at her.

‘Did you say something?’ asked Kathryn, mentally trying to square Dr Mason’s description of an uncommunicative patient with the confidently spoken woman in front of her.

The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she raised her left arm in a beckoning motion, and smiled as Kathryn approached and took a seat in the plastic chair opposite her. At first the two women sat in silence. Kathryn averted her glance sideways so as not to appear to be staring, but she could feel the other woman’s gaze searching the top of her forehead.

Finally, Kathryn looked up and, summoning a smile, ventured, ‘I’m Dr Kathryn Brookley, but please just call me Kathryn.’

‘Yes, I know who you are, Kathryn,’ the woman whispered.

At this, Kathryn felt her breath catch in her throat, felt her mind shuffling through names and images of past patients, but coming up with no matches. ‘Well, I’m at a disadvantage, then,’ she replied as her breath settled. ‘I’m very sorry but I don’t recall having met you before.’

‘You are correct, Kathryn. We have not met.’

‘Oh, then how …’ Kathryn stopped herself, realising that she should be careful to avoid being swept up into any game this woman might be playing. She settled her thoughts back into their professional box, straightened her spine, and continued. ‘Well, as I said, I’m at a disadvantage as you know who I am but I don’t know you. So, please, what’s your name?’

‘I am me. I have many names. Choose one for me if it’s necessary for you; if it makes you more comfortable.’

‘I, that is we, all of us here, want to help you. You’re in a hospital, but do you know why?’ Kathryn could not pinpoint why she was struggling to keep her own tone calm. She was aware of the rising tension in her voice. ‘If you tell us who you are, we can make sure that you find your way safely home. And, if there’s some reason you don’t want to return home, we can help you with that too.’

‘Thank you for your kindness, but there is no need to trouble yourself. I am always safely home.’ The woman smiled, revealing small, even teeth.

Kathryn arranged her face into an understanding look and said, ‘Well, that’s great. That’s really great that, ah, that you feel safe here with us. But, um, we could make you even more comfortable if we knew a bit more about you. So, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?’

The woman shrugged and replied, ‘Ask me anything, but I cannot promise to know the answers. Or, perhaps if I do know, I cannot promise that you will like my answers. But I shall do my best.’

While Kathryn listened, her mind raced. She made mental notes based on the woman’s somewhat formal way of speaking. Accent: English? Definitely well educated. Direct and confident? Or clever and manipulative?

‘Yes, do your best.’ Kathryn smiled in encouragement. ‘Why don’t we start with your name?’

‘Dear Kathryn, I’ve already answered that one. I am me. I am. But, again, feel free to put a name to me if it helps you.’

‘Well, I don’t want to put just any name to you. Maybe if you tell me a little about yourself I’ll be better placed to choose a name that I think suits you,’ suggested Kathryn.

‘Ah yes, that makes sense,’ said the woman, nodding and leaning forward in the chair. ‘I’ll tell you a short tale and perhaps you’ll see something of me in that tale, and then you’ll feel more at ease with me.’

Kathryn fought to keep the annoyance from showing on her face. This patient is trying to wrestle control of this meeting from me; I’ll have to tread carefully, she thought. ‘Yes, please proceed,’ she managed.

‘Thank you, Kathryn. I shall.’ And, closing her eyes, the woman said:

Once, there was a young woman who, for reasons that are not relevant to this tale, became very ill. Her illness took the form of a high fever, accompanied by a paralysis first in the legs and then progressing to the chest so that the woman found it increasingly difficult to breathe. Her mother, whom she greatly loved, called a doctor. When the doctor came, he prodded and probed and prognosticated, but it was all to no avail. The illness increased in severity but the woman herself began to decrease … in size. She became smaller and smaller so that by the afternoon of the second day of her affliction, she had shrunk to a size no bigger than a hazelnut. Her mother, distraught at the progression of the illness, picked up her tiny daughter and placed her on the palm of her hand. ‘What am I to do for you?’ wailed the mother. The young woman said, ‘I am the same person that I was yesterday, just in another form. So all you need to do is love me as you have always done.’ The mother mouthed agreement to this proposition, but her heart and mind could not grasp it, and so she put her tiny daughter in her pocket and carried her about with her wherever she went, seeking a cure that would restore the girl to her former form. Until, one day, the pocket developed a hole in it, and her daughter fell out and rolled into the sea. And there she stayed until the water renewed her, changed her form again. And so she was found.