The last ten days have been very difficult, to say the least. I am still
deeply embarrassed by the events that took place at Elmfield House last week
and I have spent every hour of every day that has passed since worrying about what
took place between Luke and I. I have not been particularly well either. I awoke
last Wednesday morning with a pounding headache which I attributed to eye-strain
from a late night spent writing on this blog. The headache refused to be
soothed by medication and I foolishly aggravated the pain even further by
writing another blog post that morning, which I knew was unwise at the time but
I wanted to commit the memories to print as quickly as possible. By that
evening I was sick like never before in my entire life; I suffered crippling
stomach pains that had me bent over double on the mattress for most of the
night and I vomited violently on several occasions. The sickness and stomach pains
had abated by Friday morning, but I spent the weekend struggling with the
after-effects of the illness and feeling terribly sleep-deprived, dehydrated
and exhausted.
I didn’t hear from Leonard throughout
the remainder of last week and I was beginning to grow concerned until I received
a phone call from him around eight o’clock on Monday night (which annoyed Alex immensely,
he said that eight o’clock is ‘out of office hours’). I answered the phone to a
very subdued and concerned Leonard who was not calling to arrange our next
session but instead to check on the state of my health. Luke had informed him that
I was feeling unwell at our last meeting and so Leonard had been allowing some
recovery time to pass before he called to arrange my next visit. At first I
wondered how Luke could have known that I had been poorly, but I quickly realised
that it was just a cover story to account for my quiet and withdrawn state on Tuesday
afternoon and as our conversation progressed it became clear that Leonard was
entirely unaware of the incident that had taken place between Luke and I, which
was a huge relief.
Leonard proposed that we put
our work on hiatus for a second week, but I was eager to see Luke again and so
I dismissed any serious illness and explained that the exam period has really
taken its toll on me and this must be the post-degree slump that former
students talk about. Besides I have had very little sleep over the last few
weeks and this may have lowered my immune system and contributed to my general
malaise. In fact, contrary to Leonard’s prescribed period of rest, I suggested
that a session at Elmfield House might help to lift my spirits and we should
continue with our work as soon as possible.
Leonard agreed and so on
Tuesday morning I caught the bus to Elmfield House. I took a seat on the bus
next to a middle-aged woman with long brown hair and an exceptionally thick and
shiny fringe. She gave me the sweetest smile as I sat down beside her and then she
discreetly crossed herself. I’ve seen people do this when they pass by a church
or see a funeral cortege, but we were passing by the shopping centre and there
was nothing remotely religious nearby. Either I had failed to spot something
out of the bus window or she was a very devout shopper!
I’m not sure whether I was
still harbouring symptoms of my illness or my mind was working overtime
thinking about the strange behaviour of the woman seated next to me, but I became
incredibly dizzy and nauseous during the bus journey and when I arrived at Elmfield
House Leonard remarked with concern that I looked tired and as white as a ghost.
He rushed me into the workroom, seated me in the leather armchair and dashed
off into the kitchen to brew up a large pot of 'fever brew’ (which turned out
to be Linden Blossom tea). Leonard concluded - in his typically omniscient way
- that my symptoms sounded more severe than simple exhaustion and he diagnosed
the onset of a more serious illness, so we agreed to have an ‘easy day’ and we sat
listening to his cassette of Taizé chants while he put the finishing touches to
the dress sketches. I found the Taizé chants to be very soothing and we
listened to one delightful piece called ‘De
Noche’ at least a dozen times over, but as I rested in the comfy chair clutching
my hot mug of strange-smelling herbal tea and listening to the gentle music I
couldn't help but feel like a sedated patient in a hospital death-bed!
