Mr. Nobody(42)

“Rhoda, it would be really helpful if you could try and get down on paper anything else you may have noticed about the patient. In particular, the context surrounding any losses of consciousness he’s had. I’ve already asked for the ward notes but I’d really like your version of events. You’ve had more time with him than anyone else, and that way we can try to build up a picture of what might be triggering him.”

    Why did seeing me trigger him? I think of his face across the dayroom looking back at me, his expression. How did he know my name and why would that trigger him?

“Yes, of course. Not a problem.” Rhoda smiles, clearly delighted at being asked to be so heavily involved in his diagnostic plan. But why shouldn’t she be? She’s been the one looking after him, she’s the only continuity he has here.

“Rhoda, can I also ask you—” I stop myself, this is tricky territory.

Rhoda studies me, alert to my sudden change of tone. “Of course, you can ask me anything.”

I choose my words carefully. “Rhoda. You named the patient Matthew, didn’t you? Why did you do that?”

Her face falls. Then after a moment she lets out a soft sigh. “Oh God, not that again. I wish I’d never said a word about it.” She softly shakes her head, contrite. “People always take things the way they want to hear them, don’t they? That interview, I didn’t know they’d twist it up like that. All blown out of proportion. Mr. Dunning’s already had a word with me about not speaking with the press—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” I try to reassure her; she’s misunderstood my intention. “I just wanted to know if there was a reason you chose that name in particular?”

Her embarrassment turns instantly to wariness. “You mean the ‘gift from God’ thing? I’m not religious, if that’s what you want to know. My family was, but not me. I just had this feeling—oh, no, I can’t. This is…it’s all just silliness.”

“No, Rhoda, it’s fine. Please, just tell me. I’m not going to judge you.” Who am I to judge, anyway? For all I know, I’m hearing imaginary voices.

She doesn’t relax, but she replies, “Well, I can’t explain it, so I won’t try to, but he knew something about me.” She shifts up straighter in her chair. “He knew something he couldn’t have known. He just couldn’t.” I feel the hairs at the back of my neck rise.

    She’s had an experience similar to the one I’ve had with him. He knew something about her he couldn’t have known.

“What do you mean, he knew things? Do you mean personal things, things about you?”

Rhoda looks out at the canteen before letting her eyes drift back to me. She nods. “Yes. He knew something, something extremely personal, and he wanted me to know that he knew and that he understood. Or at least that’s what it seemed like to me, at the time. I know it sounds crazy, and I’m not a spiritual person, Doctor, usually, but—this was strange. You know?” She rubs a tired hand over her left eye and I catch sight of a small scar along her temple that I hadn’t noticed before. “I’d rather not say what exactly he knew…if that’s okay?”

“Of course.”

“And there was the way he was with that other patient….I’ve never seen anything like it, not in real life, anyway. Only on TV. He was so…calm. So sure of the situation. And to answer your original question, I guess I just thought the name Matthew was nice.” She shrugs. “Better than calling him ‘the patient’ all the time. Matthew may mean ‘gift from God’ but I obviously don’t believe that’s what he is. I mean, come on—I’m a full-grown woman with twenty-seven years’ nursing experience. I don’t believe in angels. He’s just been a breath of fresh air, you know, a stroke of luck when I needed it the most.”

“But you do believe he knew things? About you?”

She chuckles. “Perhaps not. Who knows? Perhaps he’s just very good at reading people? He certainly read me like a book. Whatever it is, he deserves to have a name, right?”

I smile in agreement. “Right.”

Rhoda stiffens and it’s only then that I realize someone is standing directly behind me.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies. I was hoping to have a quick chat with you, Dr. Lewis, if that’s all right. Or is now a bad time?” It’s a voice I recognize. Shit. I swivel in my seat and look up as my heart leaps into my throat.

    Oh my God.

“Could we have a quick chat, Dr. Lewis?” Chris Poole asks again. This is who I thought I saw in the car park this morning, but now that he’s standing here right in front of me I realize how wrong I was then. Chris got really tall, and very good looking. I take in his uniform now too. Chris is a policeman. Chris Poole, from school, is a policeman. And as he looks down at me expectantly I realize that he one hundred percent recognizes me. This is not good.

“Um. Talk? Right, yes, yes, of course. Er, Rhoda, would you excuse me?”

“Of course.” She rises and smiles at me in a knowing way, one that I don’t fully understand, before leaving.

I turn back to Chris, who is grinning broadly.

Oh shit. Seriously? I mean, don’t I look completely different? I guess there must still be something left of the old me in here somewhere.