10.
(niech będzie patronem zagubionych dusz)
Josh returned home, using the public transport; he was reluctant to spend someone else's money on a taxi, especially once he realized that there was a convenient metro line running near the hospital, and he had a monthly pass, after all. Besides, he felt quite okay, and the train was almost empty at that time of day, so he secured a seat for himself without trouble. On his journey, he mused over what he'd just learned. Shock caused by the fact Alain was... mentally ill, had been eased by the conversation with Dr Sellier. Josh thought how terribly he would have felt if he'd just been put before that knowledge without a possibility to discuss it with anyone... especially with a person who knew her stuff. Yes, had it been not for Dr Sellier, he would have felt incomparably more down, now... How had she said? 'Do not lose hope.' Well, he couldn't do otherwise...
Then, Alain was ill. It was a bitter and somewhat frightening realization... but, on the other hand, it explained his recent behaviour, and it was better to know the reasons than stay ignorant. Simultaneously, he couldn't really shake the feeling of guilt that he'd caused that illness himself - with his actions. It hurt. He should have been more attentive; he should have devoted more time to Alain, instead of studying all the time... Although the doctor hadn't said it outright, the message of the conversation was clear: Alain had developed that... psychosis because he'd stayed more or less alone at home, cut off from the external world. Yes, Josh had really failed at that one... Not only had he brought about that calamity himself, but also suspected Alain of terrible things in the first place, focusing on his own problems that now seemed completely insignificant. He was pathetic and...
He blinked, remembering he'd thought about calling Mr Ageais. Apparently, there was one benefit from the therapy: phrase 'I'm pathetic' automatically brought the therapist to his mind, along with - what was more important - wise things he'd learned from the man. Now, however, he clearly realized he had a long way to go before he managed to 'straighten' all those erroneous thinking patterns he still displayed... And, yes, he really needed the experienced therapist's point of view now, that support he couldn't receive from anyone else... He hoped that Mr Ageais would have time for him.
The thought of having time distressed him a bit, and it took him a while to remember his classes were about to end... and the next week meant the beginning of final exams of the second year. His bad mood got even worse; the very idea of going to solve some test seemed completely off now. He wouldn't manage to focus, not at all... But what were his other options? Could the excuse that his... partner was gravely ill and stayed in the hospital be accepted? Did anyone care about that enough to let him sit for the exams later? Frankly, he doubted it... The thought of repeating a year was terribly depressing... But, ah, he would think about it later. His studies lost their significance when it was Alain's welfare in question... Too bad he hadn't told it himself two months ago...
Alain was ill. No matter how much Josh blamed himself, that fact wouldn't change. There was a single comfort in that, though. Josh swallowed, adjusting his scarf. How Alain had behaved towards him... last night... He hadn't done so out of hatred. He simply... hadn't realized his actions. Yes, it was that: Alain hadn't realized his actions. He'd had no sense of reality. He'd suffered from delusions... disorders of thinking. He'd imagined things that had provoked him into such behaviour. If he'd been sound... if his mind had worked normally... he would have never done something like that; it was obvious. Josh loved him too much to bear a grudge against him... Especially that nothing had really happened. Those light bruises would heal in no time... and Josh would do anything to forget about what had occurred. Actually, he hardly remembered the event itself, so it would come even easier. Now that was a good plan.
He got off on his station, glad he'd managed to come to positive conclusions in one matter, at least. Climbing the stairs to the fourth floor was a pain... On his way, he wondered whether he should drop in on Mrs Bonnet but eventually decided not to. He didn't want to show himself to her in such condition; it could upset her too much. For all her assurance and optimistic attitude, he doubted her to have accepted the issue of same-sex relationships just like that. On top of that, if she learned - and saw - what Alain had done to him, especially after all Josh's earlier assurance on their love, she would surely feel uncomfortable. He couldn't do it to her. Maybe it was a cowardice on his part... or maybe some need to protect... himself, Alain, and others of their kind. Thus, he passed the door to her flat, trying to walk silently. When he finally reached his own, his head was thumping, and he leaned against the railing for a moment, to overcome the impression that the world was spinning.
He made himself some tea and, waiting for it to cool down, sat by the table in the living-room. How strange it felt to be here without Alain... It was so hard to believe that only yesterday they would sit in the same place, together, even though the situation had already been bad. Now it was so empty here... He rested his forehead on the table and closed his eyes. He was too tired to start another litany of self-accusations or complaints on the fate. He could surely experience more sadness... and many bad days... but now he just wanted to rest...
He was waked up by a ringing. He blinked for a moment before he understood it was Alain's cell phone. Of course, Alain hadn't had it with him when being taken to hospital... The unnerving sound wouldn't stop, so he got up - slightly stiff, he must have slept quite long - and started to search for its source. He found it in the bedroom, on the chest of drawers. At first, he just stand there undecidedly, holding the vibrating phone in his hand, and then picked up, lifting it to his ear.
"Finally! Why do I always have to wait ages before you bother to answer?" an irritated woman's voice was to be heard. "You know how important that matter is for me! Do you really need to make me a trouble?! I told you many times..."
Josh listened to that spell of aggression that wasn't directed at him, almost paralysed... unable to react. It took him a while to realize that the line fell silent.
"Alain...? Are you there? Are you listening to me? Hello?" he heard, and now the voice was more hesitant than annoyed.
"I... Sorry..." he uttered.
"What? Who's speaking?! I want to talk to Alain!"
"Alain can't talk right now..." he said cautiously.
"He can't talk!" the woman snorted. "He can't talk with his own mother! Oh God, how terrible son I have! And who are you?"
Josh gulped. He'd never expected he would speak with Alain's mother. What should he say now? He had to pull himself together, although he felt as if his brain had yet to wake up.
"I'm Alain's friend..." he said quietly, squeezing the phone.
"Alain has no friends," came the answer that was like a blow and made him speechless. "Don't play with me and give him the phone."
"Alain is in hospital... Mrs Corail," he decided she should know that, and besides it was some explanation.
"What?!" she exclaimed, but it was futile to search for any concern in her tone. "In hospital? What has that hooligan done again? Got into fight with someone stronger? Then, it serves him right. He's just like his father... Even if he's not his real son."
Josh listened to it, feeling more and more angry, which animated him, at least. "Do you really not care about what happened to him?!" he could no longer check himself and shouted into the phone.
"Of course I care," Mrs Corail replied at once; if anything, that revolting grudge disappeared from her voice. "I'm his mother," she muttered. "But I know that he's tougher than your average boy, so he's going to recover, no matter what. If he's in hospital, then there's no need to worry. If you'd said he's on the cemetery, it would've meant the matter was serious."
Josh fell speechless again.
"Then, I really can't talk with him?" She sighed. "In that case, tell him to contact me when he's able to. Ah... I might as well start believing in fairy-tales," she sighed again with irritation. "I'll have to call him myself, again. Well, let's hope we won't hear each other again, Alain's friend."
"Mrs Corail...! Wait a moment, please..." Josh decided to use the opportunity, although he'd rather end this dreadful conversation. "Is that matter... Is it about that inheritance?" he blurted.
"What? Inheritance?" now her voice was surprised. "No, it's about... Wait, I'm not talking about it with a stranger."
"Mrs Corail..." he didn't want to give up. "What about those relatives that wanted to have the court's decision revoked...?"
"What relatives? There's no relatives. Alain got that inheritance because there was no other relatives," she said. "What has he deluded now?" she threw annoyed.
"Is it... Is it true?" he asked, clasping the phone with his both hands.
"Lilian Corail never lies, remember that," she stated flatly, although she didn't seem angry with him. "And... Tell Alain to recover quickly."
She rang off. Josh moved the phone from his ear and stared at the display, trying to calm down. His heart was pounding like mad... Well, there was one good thing about that: he'd waked up for good. On one hand, he was totally furious, and had Mrs Corail appeared before him now, he would surely yelled at her. How a mother could treat her own child like that? He couldn't just grasp it... and, simultaneously, he no longer wondered why Alain was so reluctant to deal with his family... Maybe even - Josh thought with a sudden insight and clearly being influenced by Dr Sellier and her bright mind - that reluctance was a reason why his delusions included 'relatives', even if non-existent? He had to ask Doctor about it tomorrow...
On the other hand, he was under the impression that Mrs Corail... could know Alain better than he. And maybe she did care, even though that concern seemed pretty much veiled...? Well, as far as he knew, no-one had ever had it easy back there, at Alain's home... Still, she could have shown some sympathy. She didn't need to board a train right away and come all the way to Paris, for God's sake! She could at least appear worried, ask what had happened, and all... The question was, had she asked, would Josh have told her that Alain was in psychiatric hospital... He realized he'd rather not to, not at all... so he'd benefited, in a way, from her evident egoism, even though the thought was bitter.
Still holding the phone, he almost unconsciously opened the 'received calls' folder and browsed through it, and then clenched his jaw. The only person who had called Alain during last two months was his mother. Apparently, in his hand was, there was the best proof that everything Alain had said and believed in, was a figment of his mind, indeed. It was a relief... although, at the same time, it filled Josh with some unpleasant sensation. Had... Had the police not come to take Alain to hospital... how long actually would have Josh remained convinced about their lives being in danger? Maybe as long as he'd finally gone mad himself... He would have sat here with Alain, not leaving the place and jumping at the slightest noise... He shuddered. Dr Sellier had said the things might have been much worse... and now he could finally understand it. He was really happy that Alain was in the right place... receiving the treatment. He would surely get better in a few days. And he would come back home. Yes, everything was going to be just fine.
The ringing of the bell broke his reverie. At first, he thought angrily that they just wouldn't leave him alone... and then he remembered he had asked Pierre Roland to visit him, himself. Apparently, the journalist had managed to leave the office early... Actually, Josh was glad; he could talk to him with more clear mind than last night or even this morning...
Having opened the door, however, he was sadly disappointed upon seeing Francis Vidal.
"You're home! I'm so glad to see you! I've been worrying about you whole day and whole night!" the neighbour flooded him with words and appeared eager to hug him any moment, so Josh took a step back.
"When are you going to leave me alone?" he threw annoyed.
However, he was surprised to realize that he no longer felt that anger he'd felt only yesterday. Maybe it happened due to Pierre's morning comment, that made the musician more worthy of pity than hatred... or maybe it was quite hard to hate someone who looked the very picture of misery and had been beaten by you own boyfriend...? In any case, he was under the impression that he could manage Francis himself, without no-one else's help.
"Don't say that!" Francis seemed hurt by his remark. "I really worried about you!"
"If I remember correctly, only yesterday you told me you couldn't stand me," Josh pointed out, coming to the conclusion that Pierre had been right: this man was really disturbed.
"Actually, it's your mate that I can't stand," Francis corrected, his face twisting. "But I'm going to make him pay, no worry. He's going straight to jail for such an assault," he added with satisfaction, pointing at his face, that, in comparison, made Josh's own able to apply for Mister Paris title. "I'm going to charge him!" he announced triumphantly.
"If you do it," Josh replied right away, "be prepared for getting in the same cell, for you're going to jail for assaulting me. You may be sure I'm not going to hesitate, only tell in details about all our recent encounters and how you've violated my personal immunity. I'm also of the opinion the court will see the yesterday event as an attempt of intrusion and find Alain's action justified since you wouldn't leave on your own volition... Believe me, I'm pretty good at telling stories, and very convincing, too. Will you take a chance?"
Francis went pale. "In the same cell...?" he uttered.
"Why, since you already know each other, they wouldn't separate you. You really didn't know about that practice?" Josh asked with fake astonishment.
Francis fell silent and spoke again only after a moment, "But he's battered you as well! You don't care? You're going to let it pass like that?" he called, waving at Josh's face. "Maybe you like it, no?"
Josh felt a pang in his chest but replied calmly, "What happens between Alain and me is our private matter."
Francis' face twisted with repulsion. 'Now he surely considers me as a masochist,' Josh decided but thought there were worse things in the world than that. Francis could imagine whatever he pleased, if only he let him alone... Unless he came to the conclusion that he felt like battering Josh himself, since Josh liked that, oh God...!
Francis, however, after a moment of meaningful silence, said, "You're really fucked up," and there was an obvious disgust in his tone.
Josh said nothing to persuade him otherwise.
"Why do you let him believe that?" Pierre's voice rang in the corridor; the man was climbing to the fourth floor, so quietly they hadn't heard him until now.
Upon seeing him, Francis clearly lost his countenance - and he was right to do so, for the next moment the journalist turned to him and spoke in a critical manner, "I think I told you not to hang around here...? How many times do you need to hear that? Besides, he is right. You've made a nuisance of yourself and harassed him, I'm going to be the first to testify against you if needed, so you'd better stay low and never stick your neck out." He waved his finger at the man. "By any case, don't you have any exams to learn for? I haven't heard you playing either, for a longer while... hmm? Now, get lost."
"Everyone's against me!" Francis exclaimed in a tearful voice and went back to himself, shutting the door.
"You need to be firm with such types, that's the key," Pierre stated. "But I think you've already noticed that."
Josh nodded and invited the man inside, then put the water to boil in order to make some tea. He searched the cupboards but found only some biscuits that were still edible... Pouring them out on the plate, he thought he should have made some shopping on his way home but hadn't even thought of it. Typical.
"You look much better," the journalist commented when Josh returned from the kitchen with that poor treat. "How did it go? Any progress?" he asked in a quite friendly manner, reaching for the tea.
"I spoke with a doctor," Josh sat down by the table. "With the doctor who's... in charge of Alain," he added in a lower voice. "They didn't let me see him."
"But you've got some information...?"
Josh nodded. "He should get better soon..." he said and fell silent. He realized Dr Sellier hadn't told him what would happen next... once Alain did get better.
"That sounds good," Pierre decided, breaking his reverie.
"I'm going to visit there tomorrow, too, so I'll probably learn more... Ah, I have your money." Josh went to the hall and took the folded note out of the jacket. "I returned with metro," he added, anticipating the questions. "Like you said, I feel much better. Fresh air helped me a lot... although it was just a walk from the station."
Pierre stared at the money, then nodded and put the note into his wallet. Apparently, he wasn't a man to make a fuss over everything... and that was how Josh had seen him before, actually.
For a moment, they sat in silence, drinking tea, but then Josh spoke again, "I'm sorry I can't treat you to anything else."
The journalist gave him an astonished look and then waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. I've just eaten outside," he assured him. "But did you eat anything?"
"No, I mostly slept..." Josh replied truthfully. "I'm going to prepare myself a dinner, soon."
"I'm not busy tonight, I can help you with groceries and all," the journalist offered in a casual voice.
Josh observed him for a while, then put a teaspoon into the empty glass and moved it aside. "Mr Roland... why are you helping me?" he repeated his question from last morning, hoping to get a more concrete answer this time. "I'll be frank: I didn't consider you as someone who cares a lot about others. To tell the truth, you seemed to me as a person who regarded his neighbours as necessary evil. That's why I'm surprised... I'd like to know... but, of course, I'm not going to press you. You probably have your issues that you don't need to reveal if you don't like to."
The journalist averted his eyes, toying with a glass for a moment. "I think it's because... you reminded me of my little brother," he said finally, and the answer surprised Josh. "Though... it's not like that." He shook his head. "It's not that you look like him or anything... quite the contrary. I just..." He ran one hand through his hair. "It's quite a displeasing story that originates from my childhood. I have three brothers, Paul was the youngest. As far as I can remember, he would always get into trouble, as a child already, and once he grow up, it didn't change... No, to the contrary, his problems were just getting worse. We were really sick with it at home... so much we shunned him, didn't want to associate with him, my brothers and I. The three of us made quite a brilliant career and achieved everything with our own power and abilities. Paul was a thorn in our side. We were fed up with him doing nothing to change his behaviour... to pull himself together. We were taught to be responsible for ourselves and our actions. Well, it is sensible and reasonable, many people think this way..."
He paused for a while, before going on, "We were sure he was doing it on purpose... Well, at least consciously. Now that I think about that, I'm almost sure he wasn't entirely sound... and had difficulties, wasn't as gifted as the three of us, couldn't deal with situations that most people pass through unharmed. But at our home such things were a taboo. Our father... wouldn't stand even a suggestion that someone in his family might have such problems. Everyone had to be healthy and strong. And perfect," he said bitterly. "Paul couldn't bear with it, couldn't cope with his problems and new adversities, only got deeper and deeper... and, in the end, committed suicide."
Josh twitched; he hadn't expected that.
Pierre stared at his hands on the tablecloth and then continued, "It happened some years ago... but I'm still unable to think about it without a feeling of shame. I realized it was us who'd brought it about: father, Pascal, Patrice, and I, with our attitude... That we should have tried to help Paul, instead of turning our backs on him. I don't know how my brothers received it... Maybe they think that it was the right thing to happen. We don't even stay in contact with each other, each of us went his own way. You may imagine how our home looked like... But that time no-one really wondered about it. The upbringing we got, seemed normal to us. And every one just regarded our father as a role model, may he rest in peace." He fell silent, his lips curved in a mockery.
He resumed talking after a moment of reflection. "Well, for my part, I changed my way of thinking, a bit... my attitude. People should help each other more... help especially those around... so that no-one were left with their problems... Unfortunately, our society is horribly duplicitous. People often seem your friend, appear interested, but when you're in a really hard spot, when you really need help, they would leave you alone, would prefer to keep away in order not to get into trouble. I hate such hypocrisy. That's why, like you've said, I consider the neighbours as necessary evil, for there's hardly anything behind their curiosity, in most cases. They would butt in your life, try to arrange it... but when you really need their support, then you will see there's no-one there."
Involuntarily, Josh thought of Mrs Bonnet, who hadn't looked in on him since yesterday... Maybe it was indeed so, since he'd been given neighbourhood aid by a person he wouldn't have even suspected to... But no, he was unfair; he had been avoiding Mrs Bonnet himself and was glad he hadn't run into her.
He focused his eyes on the man. "I'm sorry about your brother," he spoke. "But I don't think you should blame yourself for his death. As you said, you didn't realize... neither you nor your brothers that something was wrong. You behaved accordingly to what you'd been taught. It's a hard thing to change one's own view, way of thinking... But you succeeded in it later. And I am very grateful for your help," he said with emphasis.
Pierre waved his hand. "You don't seem to have experienced too much kindness in your life, either, do you...?" he asked, looking at him askance.
Josh wondered about that but didn't find the answer. "In any case, I'm a person who always tries to manage on his own... And I find it difficult to ask for help," he replied finally. "It's you who informed the police that here... that Alain needed... specialist help, right?" he asked. "And that's why the policemen were accompanied by a doctor...?"
The journalist nodded. "They sent an ambulance; the police was only to secure the place. And thanks God they were here! It needed four men to... to pull him away and immobilize. It was only then that the doctor could give him a shot, but it still took some time before he calmed down, so they had to keep him down. Meanwhile, the doctor could tend to you.
Josh remembered nothing of that - and hoped it would remain this way. It was something else that piqued his interest. "How did you know...? How did you guessed?" he asked quietly. "You saw Alain only for a short moment, on the stairs... Even I didn't realized that... he needed help..." He lowered his head.
"Sometimes an outsider can have a better view than people involved," Pierre replied with a truism. "I just put together what I'd learned from others... from Francis, Amelia Bonner... that he hadn't left home for a longer while, hadn't spoken to anyone... and then, on the staircase, he started to shout death threats, out of the blue... A sane person just doesn't behave like that... and before, I hadn't consider him a madman, he'd been perfectly normal, hadn't he?"
"Mrs Bonnet..." Josh muttered, thinking of the neighbour again. "How am I going to explain that to her... I bet she was shocked... and she was even so nice to us..." He really should prepare himself properly for a conversation with the older lady.
"You'll have to postpone that explanation a bit," the journalist's matter-of-fact voice interrupted with his plans. "And, besides, I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to talk with her about it, to begin with."
"Why?" Josh looked on him.
"Mrs Bonnet is in hospital," Pierre answered cheerlessly.
"In hospital..." Josh repeated in a whisper. "What...?"
The man averted his eyes again; for some reason, he seemed displeased. "As you said, she was very shaken by what had happened here..." he replied. "I don't know the details, but it's something neurological."
Stupefied, Josh stared at him for a longer while before lowering his head. The feeling of guilt hit him hard. The list of Alain's vic... of Alain's disease's victims stretched all the time. And not so long ago he'd told himself that, with Alain being cured, he shouldn't really bother, for nothing bad had happened.
"I think we should move out from here," he muttered.
"Why?" Pierre asked in astonishment.
"Francis was beaten... Mrs Bonnet is in hospital... It wouldn't have occurred if we hadn't lived here."
"What are you talking about? Such things happen."
"I'd rather they didn't happen because of me," Josh drawled.
"Don't talk nonsense," the journalist was of another opinion, apparently. "Francis asked for a hiding himself. Maybe it will teach him to think about his behaviour a bit more... or not," he decided cuttingly. "As for Mrs Bonnet... You can't feel responsible for that. We don't live in a void, only among other people. What we do always affects others, that's inevitable... If you can't accept it, you can always move on a desert island or in the rain forest," he pointed out. "Or shut yourself home and never leave again. Although, as we know from an example, it may end badly, too," he added ironically. "You really shouldn't reprove himself. I'm sure it's nothing severe, and she will soon come back to torment us with her neighbourly friendliness..."
Josh nodded but didn't feel particularly comforted. "Mr Roland, thank you for your help again," he said, never taking his eyes off the table, "but I'm tired... and I had better get some rest..."
"Why do I have a feeling I've just been thrown out?" Pierre asked sneeringly. Josh clutched his fingers on the tablecloth and said nothing. "It's all right... Just tell me if you need me to make you some shopping. I'm going out in the evening, so I can visit a supermarket."
Josh shook his head. Pierre waited in silence but, receiving no other reaction, he said, "I saw your fridge is almost empty. I'm going to get you some groceries and leave them by the door. It's up to you whether you take them or let them rot."
Now Josh, somewhat fearfully, looked up at him. "I can't-" he started, but the journalist raised one hand to stop his objection.
"You have to take care of yourself, in order to recover quickly. You've much on your head, don't you? You won't help anyone if you collapse and get yourself in hospital, too. I have a morning shift tomorrow, so I can't prepare you a breakfast," he announced and seemed to be serious about that.
Josh opened his mouth to reply... and shut it again, realizing the man was quite right. And that he was being pathetic, making himself a martyr and sulking like that. He was an adult man; he shouldn't really make a fool of himself before another person...
"Than... If you would be so kind... I'll give you money," he said and reached for the wallet. Distractedly, he noticed it was almost empty. Right, it was the end of the month... He would get his stipend no sooner than the next week.
"We'll calculate that later," Pierre said, getting up; it could be he'd noticed Josh's confusion. "Lock the door behind me," he requested, making his way to the hall. "Francis has been taken care of, and I think you shouldn't bother yourself about him, but I'd rather he didn't annoy you again... especially that, like you said, you need to rest. It's still possible that he comes here and try to convince you that he's your best friend, God save us. Hmm, maybe I should drop in and have a brief talk with him, after all..."
Josh saw the neighbour to the front door and, when alone again, lay down in the bedroom, pretty tired. However, if he thought he would fall asleep right away, he was mistaken. Apparently, he'd been sleeping enough today, and his organism wasn't too exhausted... Thus, he was only lying, his eyes closed, and his mind was revolving - of course - around the current situation. The conversation with Dr Sellier had calmed him a bit and even lifted his spirit, earlier, but now he felt dejected again. It was like he'd just told Pierre: staying here, Alain and he had inconvenienced other people - and all that had happened because he hadn't realized Alain's condition. Now, what had he been studying that psychology for, if he couldn't even see that there was something wrong with his beloved person's psyche? He was not cut for it, not at all...
'You're not sitting here as a psychologist but a family member,' he remembered Doctor's unexpected words... And Mr Ageais would undoubtedly remind him that psychopathology was on curriculum of the third year and no sooner, so why should he know? Right, he planned to call the therapist and arrange a meeting... As for the third year... The thought of upcoming exams returned to him... but it was still very unpleasant, so he pushed it away. He still had a few days to make his decision... And he would contact Mr Ageais tomorrow; there was a phone box by the metro station. He still had some coins in the wallet; it should be enough for a call...
He hoped he would be able to see Alain tomorrow... although he had to admit that meeting scared him, a bit. How would Alain react upon seeing him? Would he be still angry with him? Would he still accuse him of... having betrayed him? Josh's heart clenched. Or maybe, until then, his delusion would already have receded and he would be himself again? Dr Sellier had said that the medication should work quickly, although Josh didn't know what 'quickly' meant in this case... She might have mentioned a few days, if he remembered correctly... He returned to that conversation. Doctor had said that the diagnosis was still open, that they could only talk about a psychosis... Was Alain mentally ill? Not just now, but in general? Chronically? Did he have some of those conditions Doctor had mentioned? What was that... Schizophrenia... and persecutory disorder... No, it was delusional, delusional disorder. Josh had heard something about schizophrenia, but he knew nothing really. He realized he knew pathetically little about mental illnesses... excluding, of course, depression... but it was more a practical knowledge than theoretical. Well, it seemed he should head for the library and do some reading tomorrow; he would only benefit from it. Probably. In any case, Dr Sellier would no longer be forced to explain every little thing to him... although her explanations were clear and completely understandable, and Josh listened to them almost with pleasure.
He tried to remember what it was he did know about schizophrenia... It might be genetic. Was anyone in Alain's family sick with it...? He had no idea; they'd never spoken about Alain's family... and after his recent talk with Mrs Corail he no longer wondered about that. However, he reluctantly admitted that only she could tell him more on this topic, for Alain didn't remember his real father... But Mrs Lilian had made such a bad impression on him that he didn't want to have anything to do with her, never. In just a few minutes, she'd managed to tell so many unpleasant things about Alain that Josh hadn't heard from all other people for his whole life. One might imagine she hated her son... and it was what Josh just couldn't comprehend. Parents should support their children, not criticize them on any occasion. Maybe it was the reason why Alain had so low self-confidence...? And couldn't trust anyone...? If he'd only heard about being... a hooligan... and that it'd served him right whenever he'd got himself into troubles...? No child should hear such things from their parents. Josh thought he disliked Mrs Lilian more and more with every passing moment.
No, it was better to stop thinking of her, for, doing so, he would only worsen his mood, that was bad enough already. He would have to mention her call to Alain... but not now; first, Alain had to recover. He started to wonder about the diagnosis again and finally decided it was no use. He had to trust Dr Sellier and her expertise, even if himself he wanted everything to be clear right away, to be solved quickly. It was that terrible tendency of his: to search for a way out of the pinch. Sure, often it was useful, but in times like now, when he couldn't influence the events, it was only a pain and caused him needless torment.
But what he could influence, then...? Surely, there must be things that depended solely on him. Yes, Pierre was right; he should take care about himself, in the first place, and get his strength back. And - it was his own opinion now - tend to his life in a sensible manner. Alain was in hospital, getting specialist care, while Josh should restore his daily life; staying in bed and pitying himself wouldn't change a thing. Getting rest was fine - especially after being injured like that - but his condition wasn't so serious as to immobilize him at home. Tomorrow, he would call Mr Ageais, then he would go to the hospital to see Alain and talk with Dr Sellier, and in the afternoon he could visit the university in order to read a bit. In the meantime, he should decide on what to do about the exams... Although reluctant to do so, he forced himself to reflect on it now. He should complete the year; he'd managed to submit all requested papers, and he had satisfactory attendance... Actually, now he realized he should to anything to have it past him. It would be an insufferable thing if, after all that - spending the days at the university, over the books and essays to such the extent that he'd driven Alain in sickness - he had to repeat the year. His studying had brought along many bad things so far; now there should be some profit, too. He couldn't give up; he would be really pathetic if he did so.
His mood improved, all right - and he hoped it would stay like this for a longer while. Since yesterday, it'd been swinging quite much... Well, he told himself optimistically, swinging mood meant that it wasn't bad all the time. He should preserve that hope, so that he wouldn't fall into despair and depression at every problem. Things couldn't possibly be worse than they already were, and thus the only direction now was upwards, towards the better. He should think like this.
Pierre rang the bell quite soon - or so it seemed to him - to hand him a big shopping bag.
"The bill is inside," he said. "You can pay me back later."
"Thank you," Josh replied, smiling shyly. "Thank you for what you said before. I feel much better. And I think I'll manage on my own."
"Fine," Pierre nodded; he seemed satisfied. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."
"Thank you... Ah, Mr Roland..." he remembered it now. "Do you know in which hospital is Mrs Bonnet staying?"
"I don't, but it's not a problem to get know. I'll slip the information under the door, all right?" he offered.
"Thank you," Josh said once again. "I'm really grateful and-"
"It's enough," Pierre lifted one hand. "Sleep well. Good night!" he called and ran up to his fifth floor.
Josh looked inside the bag... and, upon seeing bread, realized he was hungry - he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and now it was already evening... He decided it was a good sign, and made his way to the kitchen to prepare himself a supper. Later, sitting on the couch and tucking in a baguette with cheese and tomato, he thought eating alone in an empty flat is no fun... But, he remembered right away, he should focus and do anything so that Alain could return here as soon as possible.
And when Alain returned, everything would be all right again.
Let him become a patron of lost souls – Daab, "Do plasticka"