reading, 1991

Introduction

Chapter three continues from the flashback at the end of chapter two and the humble, happy life shared by the young lovers, Molly and James.

Adrift in Amnesia, Chapter Three: Reading, 1991 (excerpt)

‘Confession,

abolition,

renewal,

uncertain processes

among dreams

lost

in perpetual night

waken

to a magnificent sunrise

over endless green fields.

The sound of the river

travels through distant forests,

shadows pointing

toward a road

facing mountains

reaching beyond the clouds.

Descending the vastness

of skies overlooking

great stillness amid

a palette of infinite

hues ever changing,

a light

pierces deep within

to unlock hidden doors

opening on new vistas.

Bright

in solitude

nestled between

wooded hills

beneath a chorus

of optimism

in full voice

among the trees,

reflections

of emptying

towards serenity

gaze upon

every colour;

if only for a moment

a brief,

beautiful moment,

walking eternal fields

in unison.’

James could not recall much about what happened and had no idea how he ended up in hospital. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive and asked if he had any family he could contact. He had overdosed previously, but never this serious and was unable to say for sure as to whether or not this was a botched suicide attempt. He had considered suicide many times; the thought of his parents the only thing stopping him. He realised continuing like this was no longer an option; getting clean was the only way out. ‘No,’ he replied, then turning to the doctor, ‘but I’d like some help getting off this shit.’ He was discharged from rehab in January, 1989 and placed in a B&B not far from Chelmswood’s main town centre.

The accommodation consisted of a single room complete with washbasin and a shared bathroom and toilet. The shower was more of a trickle and one had to be quick as the plughole was slightly blocked, causing the small cubicle to flood and overflow into the main bathroom if one took too long. As a result, it often stank of sewage. The landlord, Wayne Donaldson, was an ex-marine from Liverpool and although he got on with James quite well, he was hardly proactive when it came to fixing problems.

It was a different story when it came to collecting his rent, as a number of the B&B’s tenants were quick to find out – and in the most painful of ways! He would usually give them a ‘chance,’ as it were, in the form of an unambiguous warning of what was to follow if they failed to settle their arrears and quick. Most were wise enough not to mess around and coughed up pronto. Some, however, were either foolish enough to call his bluff, while others simply could not afford to pay because of debts already owed to local drug dealers, or because they had lost it all at the bookies. The B&B bore witness to such messy scenes on more than one occasion.

Nevertheless, rehab had felt like hell in comparison – the constant aches, pains, vomiting and hallucinations, dissolving through aeons staring into white walls that gave no indication of time. Heroin use had basically been a means of anaesthetising the millstone of severe depression, which had taken on a life of its own, sinking into the prison of addiction. James could not remember how he funded his habit much of the time, but he knew it was not always legal and for this he felt regret, in particular, when he stole from others to feed his burden. It made him think of his parents and how disappointed they would be. He was close to both of them as a child. Unfortunately, their relationship waned dramatically during his teens, notably with his father, Percy, as he got into more and more trouble at school.

From age thirteen onwards, James began suffering with insomnia and frequent panic attacks that caused him to be quite rebellious in class and consequently finding himself on the wrong side of authority. It was not immediately apparent what triggered this. Regardless, most of his teachers branded him as simply having an ‘attitude problem’ and much of his teen years were spent in detention, or in the corridors during lessons – sent out of the classroom for being too disruptive. He had in reality been suffering from a generalised anxiety disorder, which often expedited considerably distressing insights pertaining to the paradox of eternity and demarcation. Being only a teenager, it was very difficult for him to articulate the reasons behind his distress, as much as it was hard for him to understand the feelings of terror this perpetuated within – a sort of inner voidness, as if one was absent from oneself. As a result, school became much like everything else: totally meaningless.

Alongside being too young to in any way rationalise these experiences, he discovered that there was not a lot of help or support for people going through such problems. James felt utterly alone, caught in a vicious cycle of panic attacks that led to more and more trouble. A repetitive phase of rebelliousness in the classroom caused substantial conflict with his parents and, eventually, he abruptly left home during his O-levels after a huge argument with his father. To begin with, he sofa-surfed at friends’ houses in Exeter, later moving into a flat-share while attending college to retake his exams. His anxiety evolved into deep depression, which got progressively worse during this time and his continual cannabis use basically drew him to harder drugs. He dropped out of college. Unable to pay the rent for his room, he ended up on the streets. He subsequently lost contact with his mother, Cecilia, and did not speak to Percy at all between moving out and being discharged from rehab – almost four years.

The reunion with his parents was a rather emotional one to say the least. The fallout had been particularly trying on Cecilia, but James’ addiction had come to alienate even her. She did her best to tempt him home, to fix things and get help for his problems. This generally resulted in her being on the receiving end of a barrage of verbal abuse from him. His argumentative, victim-mentality had become virtually impossible to bear – albeit in the small moments when she spoke to him. Her troubled son would make sporadic contact every four weeks or so, usually when he thought Percy would not be at home and mainly to ask for money. Then, the phone calls suddenly stopped and Cecilia filed a missing person’s report and put some ‘Missing’ posters up in the local towns. Her heart increasingly sank upon the realisation that the world did not care about a homeless drug addict and she too felt she had abandoned him. James’ behaviour may have been intolerable at times, but he was still her son and she became desperate to find him.

For his part, Percy ultimately began to feel awful about his pig-headedness toward the situation and joined his wife in trying to locate James after communication had ceased. It was through an advert they placed in the Big Issue that a former addict who knew him and had heard of his recent hospital admission contacted them. Shortly after being discharged, James got in touch and they visited the B&B in Chelmswood. More than anything else, both parents felt relief at seeing him again. Percy looked his son in the eye, ‘I’m sorry, my boy, I’m so sorry.’ An embrace attained a moment where all was forgiven and forgotten: they were a family again, but sadly it was not to last. Five months after their reunion, his mother passed away due to a complication resulting from minor surgery. Both James and Percy had been by her bedside, ‘my beautiful son is back,’ Cecilia’s final words, upon which, with her gentle smile, she departed this world.

Her death had simultaneously devastated father and son, in turn bringing them closer. They honoured her memory by choosing to celebrate the final five months reunited as a family and James felt more determined than ever before to do her proud by staying clean – managing his anxiety and depression through a more meaningful occupation. He began his apprenticeship with Brian that would lead him to Molly and approximately two of the happiest years of his life were to follow.

….

James was already in the Beer Engine when Tony arrived. ‘Alright mate,’ he called, as his friend smiled to see a cool pint waiting for him. ‘Okay, so what’s this “big surprise” then?’ He pulled a small box out of his pocket and placed it on the table, opening it to reveal an engagement ring. Tony clasped his hands together, ‘oh James, I had no idea you felt this way!’ ‘Get on, you Muppet!’ Laughing at the recognisably daft sense of humour, realising he should have known better. ‘So, you’re really gonna ask her then?’ ‘Yeah … but I think I’ll leave it till after Reading … or maybe at Reading, still trying to decide which is best.’ Glancing out the window thoughtfully. ‘Ah … she’ll love it if you asked her right ‘ere in the Beer Engine! Proper soul mates, you two!’ Tony smacks him on the side of the shoulder. ‘Yeah, I know, but I’ve never loved anybody before. Well, not like this … I just want it to be special, you know?’ He looked up at his friend, who raucously responded, ‘course, you old romantic! Just don’t go too overboard … Pip’ll start gettin’ ideas, ha-ha!’ Laughing into his pint. James asked if Tony would be best man for the wedding, which he was more than happy to oblige and promised to keep the whole thing a secret until he popped the big question.

They had a couple of drinks in the Beer Engine and while Tony was keen to get a load more in to celebrate, James wanted to get home so he could hide the ring. He knew it had to be somewhere inconspicuous, after all, this was Molly’s house and she knew the place inside out! He once tried hiding tickets to see the Charlatans at Exeter’s Great Hall in November 1990 as a surprise gift and within hours she had found them. This needed to be a sophisticated operation, somewhere she would never suspect and he knew just the place, but it required a bit of time to move things around, then put it all back again prior to her returning from work. He reckoned an hour should be enough. He agreed to meet Tony later, ‘as long as you’re allowed out,’ he cheekily insinuated. ‘Oi, I’ll have you know, I do what I like, when I like!’ Retorted Tony, in protest at this insolence. ‘Sure, buddy, sure,’ with an ironic wink at his disgruntled friend before making fast through town towards the Shiel estate.

It was around 3pm one Monday afternoon when he arrived home to hide the ring. It was quite a warm summer’s day and he picked up the mail from the doormat. Nothing for him, but he noticed an envelope with a Mean Fiddler stamp on it addressed to his partner, ‘great, that must be them,’ he thought, excited at the prospect of seeing some of his favourite Hip Hop acts in little more than a few weeks. Molly was mostly excited about Sonic Youth and Nirvana though the line-up also included other musical acts she enjoyed: Iggy Pop, Dinosaur Jnr, Teenage Fanclub, Ned’s Atomic Dustbin and Senseless Things among others. She had put a poster up in the lounge and was eagerly counting down the days to the festival. After finishing her A-Levels, she had been taking additional hours at a local café, while he was likewise working overtime to save some extra money. The cafe was busy because of the summer and Molly had offered to cover a shift after a colleague called in sick. James had worked all weekend and taken Monday off.

He went upstairs to the second bedroom, which was now principally being used for storage while they were doing up the house. In the corner of the room was a rather robust, single bed with a solid wood frame that his parents had brought from their home in St. Mary’s. His mattress in the old B&B became infested with bed bugs and his landlord neglected to provide an adequate replacement so James took the initiative and got rid of the whole rotten thing. He had therefore taken his own bed with him when he moved out and kept it in the spare room (Wayne was not happy about this, but opted not to make a scene in front of Percy and Tony as they were leaving). Although James would never sleep in it again, it would come to be the place where his son would spend his nights in Chelmswood.

He shifted the boxes out of his way, ever mindful to remember the order that they stood so as not to arouse suspicion. Moving the bed out from the corner of the wall, he carefully lifted the edge of the carpet. ‘Ah-ha, ideal!’ He contentedly muttered to himself. Lifting the floorboard, he took the ring from his pocket. Once more gazing warmly at the crystal of light glinting in his hand, he settled it under the floor before replacing the hardwood and covering again with the carpet. He moved the bed back to the corner and meticulously returned the boxes to their original spots. Leaving the room, he turned around and quietly mused to himself, ‘I think I’ll leave it till after Reading’ – a secret that remains in the house to this day.

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