It had been a terrible night that leaked into the new day, where, for around four or five minutes that felt like hours, she, Edmund, and Nate had been trapped right there in the kitchen.
Willow had experienced a psychotic episode, heartbreaking to witness, painful to endure and once it was over, the struggle for power ensued. Not with Willow, but with Edmund who wanted to ring for an ambulance and the on-call team who cared for her. To him, having his daughter incarcerated was the answer to his problems.
Robin often imagined Edmunds of the past, watching from the step as their irritations were carted off in the back of a horse-drawn carriage to the lunatic asylum. Out of sight and mind.
Willow’s episodes occurred rarely, mostly when the dose of drugs she took daily needed a tweak. Willow’s mostly placid, locked-in state was replaced by mania and violent tendencies. Then, as with the previous evening, anything could happen.
Nate had come in late and had the shock of his life when Willow emerged from the shadowy hallway and tried to open the front door, saying that she was going to collect Maya from school, and she was late. When he prevented her from leaving she’d darted into the kitchen and tried to unbolt the back door. Nate had blocked her exit and without warning she erupted.
A screaming banshee was let loose, swiping everything off the work surfaces, dragging out drawers and upending them onto the floor and by the time Robin and Edmund arrived, alerted by the noise, Willow had found the cutlery.
That part Robin remembered in slow motion, as her screeching daughter grabbed a fish knife and began brandishing it at anyone who approached. If they attempted to get close she would press the tip against the vein on her inner arm, her meaning clear. Throughout Robin and Nate had remained calm. Edmund, lacking patience and irked at the inconvenience, could never relinquish the alpha male role, so took control.
Bellowing like he did when Willow was a child, as if she were one of Satan’s demons, the look in his eyes betraying his inner anger, his voice pious and laced with threat, he pointed his finger.
This alone pinned his daughter to the spot while he commanded, ‘Willow, desist.’
The word itself had made Willow gasp.
‘You will stop this nonsense immediately, I mean it. Do not dare spill a drop of blood in your father’s house, or so help me God you will be punished. Put down that knife, NOW!’
Robin gulped, her dry lips unable to form words, her legs and hands shook as she watched her daughter closely. Willow’s glazed eyes were round with shock. Then a frown, a hint of confusion, and her lips moving as if conversing with someone unseen.
At the time Robin wished she’d grabbed a filleting knife so she could slice out Edmund’s tongue and then the rest of his vital organs, until she realised that his words had actually registered with Willow who, miraculously did as she was told. The relief in the room was palpable when she dropped the knife like it was molten steel, looking at her hand in horror as though it was burnt and blistered.
Nate stepped forward, kicking it out of the way and as it skidded across the tiles, Willow sank to the floor in a heap, replete, covering her ears and began talking to her friends the angels.
‘I’m sorry, please forgive me. Dear angel, hear my prayer. I’m sorry, forgive me. Dear angel, hear my prayer…’ and so it went on, in a loop as Robin tentatively made her way towards Willow. There, she slid to the floor by her child’s side, relief rushing through her body, legs grateful of respite, her heart rate returning to normal.
Maybe the notion that her actions would be punishable by God – Edmund’s go-to method of parenting – had got through, somehow penetrated the ether and touched a nerve, reconnected a severed wire in Willow’s brain. Willow had regressed, resembling an ageless, hunched and frail being, a little girl locked in a nightmare, totally lost. Robin wasn’t sure where but ironically, she was glad of it when Edmund began issuing orders.
‘Nate, ring for the ambulance, or whoever it is you need to call. She can’t stay here like this. She’s a danger to herself and us and, whether you like it or not, she needs professional care, not a nursemaid.’
Robin had heard it before, the derogatory tone in a comment directed at her but she was beyond hurt, by Edmund anyway, and stood her ground. Thankfully Nate sided with Robin who refused, and then forbade Edmund to call 999, reiterating that they’d weathered episodes such as these before.
Once exhausted Willow would sleep, sometimes for a day, maybe more, in which time her medication would be adjusted. Edmund, red-faced and knowing he was beaten had stomped off to bed, leaving Nate to clear the kitchen while Robin settled Willow in her own room.
Then throughout the night, a mother kept vigil over her daughter, fending off demons, especially the one known as Edmund.
As Nate buttered his toast, Robin sucked in her temper, resigned to facing the care team, the day ahead, her thoughts and anxieties alone. She was part irritated, part glad, but allowed the force with which she yanked the chair from under the table to express her mood. The ear-piercing scrape of the chair legs to speak her feelings.
‘So, you’re going into work then?’
Nate brought the coffee pot and his plate over to the table, then set them next to his bowl of cereal, taking a seat opposite. Evidently his appetite undampened by the predicament of his wife or mother-in-law. The look he gave Robin as he poured milk into his bowl was one of resignation.
‘Robin, I can tell you’re annoyed with me, but it’s the start of the new term and an important time. Yes, I know that sounds terrible because Willow is important too but,’ his shoulders sagged and he looked into his bowl as though it were a pit of doom, ‘but I can’t help her anymore. I wish I could but I’m sorry, I just can’t. But I can help the kids I teach at college. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?’
Nate picked up his slice of toast then put it back on the plate, his shoulders slumped as he waited for her reply.
It was so hard, seeing it from everyone’s point of view, exhausting. And Robin did see, especially when it came to Nate so softening her tone, she let him off the hook.
‘Yes, yes I do understand, Nate, and I’m sorry for being snappy but I didn’t sleep a wink. There’s no need for you to be here today other than to give me a break but I might ask Gina if she can come over for a few hours, after the nurse has been. She’ll sit with Willow, I’m sure, so don’t worry.’
At this Nate brightened, like a kid who’d been told he could go to the party after all. ‘I’ll come straight home after classes and do any paperwork I have here. But we have student induction and I’m on the rota for some late-night courses so going forward…’
He halted when Robin raised her hand, not having the patience to hear more excuses. ‘Nate, it’s okay, just eat your breakfast. I’ll cope.’
Silence descended, not exactly companionable but it gave Robin time to pour herself a coffee and a few moments to think before the peace was once more interrupted by Nate.
