Mad Worlds Read Online Free PDF

grandma.
    â€œYour bairn’s a grand wee eater.” Elsie handed Becky over, then stood up, her cheeks glistening. Elsie – crying? “I’d better join Mattie. Make yourself at home, m’dear.”
    Yesterday’s shock! Finding John slumped in the chair by the front door – hunched forward, head resting on his arms. Back from work early. Wild-eyed, he’d ignored her queries, insisted on going straight to bed and wanted to be on his own.
    Later, when she tiptoed into the bedroom, he divulged something bad happened at school, and said he was wholly responsible. “My neglect,” he added. Talking about it would not help, and he’d sort it out at school tomorrow.
    A tapping jolted Heather from her reverie. Elsie was peering round the door. “Heather m’dear, you’ve a visitor. I’ll leave you in private.”
    A dark-suited man entered, carrying a briefcase. “Mrs Chisholm?” The stranger continued in a low voice without waiting for a reply, “I’m Sam Newman, Mental Health.” He sat down at the table.
    â€œYes. Heather Chisholm.” This tanned, dark-haired little man looked nervous – smoothing his hair with one hand, briefcase (flat on the table) clenched in the other. “What do you mean, mental health?”
    â€œI’m Aversham’s Mental Health Officer, commonly known as the DAO – that is duly authorised officer, empowered under the law to take people of unsound mind to Springwell.” He flashed a card with a photo on it. “Just to confirm.”
    Heather waved her hand. She didn’t need to see his card. “The loony bin? John’s no madman. Anyway, he wouldn’t go there.”
    â€œWell, if your husband’s having a nervous breakdown, that’s where I have to take him.”
    â€œ
Have
to take him? No! Surely you can treat him at home.”
    â€œNot if he’s having a serious mental breakdown. Springwell’s the only place to treat him. It’s the mental
hospital
. Besides, there’s your safety. The police said he tried to stab you.”
    â€œThat’s not true. He just picked up a knife. But…” She hadn’t thought this through. Becky’s and her own safety came first. Maybe John would have to go there.
    The man produced a pack of cigarettes and motioned it towards her. “A fag?”
    â€œNo thanks.”
    â€œMind if I do?” The mental man took out a cigarette and flicked at the lighter.
    â€œNo – I mean yes, I do mind.” Her cheeks warmed. “The smoke would be bad for my baby.”
    The mental man looked disconcerted, but pocketed cigarettes and lighter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” He sat down on a chair by the table, took paper and a pen from the briefcase, and faced her. “Tell me what happened,” he said quietly.
    Heather began her story.

4

    Friday 20 th April 1956 – in Aversham.

    John rushed to the front doorway and stopped, gripping the doorknob as he watched Heather speed with Becky towards the shop. He’d chase them – but no, she’d come back. God, he didn’t mean to scare her like that! He slammed the door, retreated to the living room and slumped into an armchair. Thoughts rushed into his head, then faded – like some magnetic force was drawing them.
    His lower back was aching. A dull ache. Yes, his underwear was sodden. He raised himself from the chair and began to strip off.
    He suddenly imagined Dave, soaking and drowning. His body shook, and his eyes felt moist. Great bruv. Looked out for his ‘wee Johnny’.
    Yesterday! He’d panicked. Why did he go anywhere near the river?
    He rubbed his aching forehead, massaging it. But this didn’t relieve his cluttered mind. Was he going mad?
    A strain of music. Hearing things? No, it was from next door. ‘
Heartbreak Hotel
’. A catchy tune, but he didn’t want to hear it. Heather was