Page 51 of Fall

“Which one is Julia Smith?” I ask him, and he gives me a puzzled look. I guess it must be strange to have someone turn up for a visit and not know who they are looking for.

“You’re here for Julia? The woman is a little crazy so don’t get too close. She tends to flip and attack visitors, and you don’t want her doing that to your pretty girlfriend,” he says, and I glare at him. I don’t need a warning, and if Arthur was visiting this person, I respect her for trying to attack him. “Dude . . . just a warning,” he says, holding his hands up.

Tilly squeezes my hand to get my attention, and I force myself not to hurt the innocent security guard for being an idiot.

“Just show us,” I say, and he nods, moving in front of us and walking through the people in the room. I stop in my tracks when I see who he is pointing at. Sitting in a chair, looking out the window, is an older version of the woman I have seen in photos. I can’t remember her as a child, but I would know my own mother anywhere. Even one who left when I was a child.

“Mother,” I say tightly, and I feel Tilly squeeze my hand in comfort. My mother doesn’t respond as she stares out the window in a haze. I don’t see anyone other than my mother as I walk forward and sit in the seat opposite her. When she finally turns to look at me, I see her green eyes and her brown hair, which has started to go grey at the top. But it’s her emotionless eyes that do me in.

“Who are you?” she asks me.

“Harley King,” I say, and she holds a hand out.

“Harley . . . I’m Julia, and I like your name,” she says, and I shake her hand. There wasn’t an ounce of recognition from her when I said my name. My mother’s name isn’t Julia.

“Do you not know who I am?” I ask her, letting go of Tilly’s hand and kneeling down so I’m at her level, and she smiles.

“No, but you look familiar. Like a ghost,” she says, and then she laughs a little. “I like ghosts,” she adds, and I look over at the guard who watches us.

“I will be right back, Julia,” I tell her, and she nods, looking out the window again. I stand up and move closer to Tilly, who just watches.

“I’m going to find out what I can. Will you talk with her? See if she will tell you anything?” I whisper.

“Of course,” she says, knowing the story I had been told about my mother walking out on us all when I was a child. I don’t believe she did, not if she can’t remember us and is in a place like this. I look back once more at my mother, seeing the dazed look she is giving the window. I wonder how many drugs she is on.

“I want to know what happened to my mother to have her end up in here. I’m her next of kin, and I thought she had just walked out on us as children. Not that she is clearly not in her right mind and in a mental hospital,” I tell the security guard, whose eyes widen.

“Look, I will take you to the boss. She will be the only one who can tell you anything. I’ve only been working here a few months, man,” the guy says, holding his hands in the air. I take a deep breath and nod at him. He opens the door for me and goes to talk to the old lady behind the desk, who picks up the phone and rings someone.

“Go and watch my mother and girlfriend. If anything happens to them while I’m here, I will personally blame you,” I warn the man, who gulps and quickly goes back into the room.

I pace the entrance hall for what seems like ages, but likely isn’t long, until an older woman walks down the stairs behind the desk. The woman has dark-brown hair, a serious expression, and is wearing a suit.

“I’m Mrs. Banna. You are Mr. King, I believe?” she asks me, and I nod. She hands me a folder and then gestures to the seat.

“Everything we have on Miss Julia Smith is in there, but I can run through what we know if you wish?” she asks me.

“Yes.” I nod curtly.

“I had just started working here when Julia was brought in. She had been found in a hospital, with no identity and a head injury. They say she was found washed up on a beach and when she woke up with no knowledge of her name, they brought her here,” she tells me. I wonder what my father did to her, to have her end up on a beach with a head injury. I doubt she did it to herself, and my father was sick enough to do it.

“Why did you keep her here? If it was only a loss of memory? She isn’t crazy?” I ask her, and she shakes her head at me.

“Your mother has episodes where she attacks people randomly. She wakes up in the night screaming but can’t remember what was scaring her in her dreams when she wakes up. To be honest with you, if she had a family to go home to, it could happen, but until now . . .” she says, and she doesn’t need to finish the sentence. She hasn’t had anyone until now.

“Arthur visits her, doesn’t he?” I ask.

“Yes, there’s a man who visits her. He visits a lot of the people here and is just a good man–” she says with a smile.

“He is not a good man and is likely the one who put my mother in here with help from my father,” I spit out, standing up. The woman looks shocked but doesn't know what to say to me.

“I will find a better place for my mother to stay; she can’t be left here. I will pay for it all to be sorted and to have her close to my home. Despite who my mother was, she is my mother and my responsibility,” I say, and the woman nods her understanding. “I will also be calling my private doctor to have a look at her and see what medications she should be on. She looks out of it in there,” I comment.

“She is on–”

“I don’t want to know. I’m leaving,” I say and go to the room, banging on the door. The security man opens it up, giving me a nervous look as I walk over to Tilly and my mother. My mother is laughing a little at whatever Tilly is saying to her.

“Lovely girl,” she tells Tilly, holding her hand.

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