Chapter 23. The other side of Kate Gaffney
As you already know, Harrison Morgan and Joe McKenna would later be known as the ‘Security’ of the Two Steps Forward Drug Rehabilitation Institution. It’s probably worth noting here though, that this role is a cover up. They were both recruited from The Woolington Centre in Birmingham, a nationally recognised provider of specialised Neurosciences services. Government official Steve Towerbridge was responsible for their arrival on the project, which owed in no small part to a colossal salary offering and promises of Christ-like legacies upon successful completion of the task. Of course, ‘the task’ that they ended up being a part of was not the same one that they signed up to. Had they known at the time what they were getting involved in, it is likely that they would have rapidly retreated to the safe haven and structured shift patterns of Wollington, regardless of the monetary sweeteners on offer. Once they were through the door however, the job of keeping them on the project got easier with every lie and every cover-up that they became involved in. The goal of curing drug misusers from their misery, quickly turned into something bigger than any of them could have anticipated. It’s safe to say that by the time that 61 intoxicated and unsuspecting subjects were shipped out to a new life on the island of Ducie, Joe and Harrison were too emotionally invested in this whole circus to ever consider returning to their humdrum careers…
…but they wouldn’t have known any of this at the point when Frank Gilbert burst into the staff room, rambling something about Argentina and Kate Gaffney not being Kate Gaffney.
- Boys, you’ve got to come and see this! Kate’s flipping out in there. She’s saying she’s not who she is and she’s in Mendoza. It’s in Argentina, man! It’s unbelievable!
Harrison was holding a good hand of cards and with £7.50 in the pot, he was in no mood for abandoning the game. He dismissed Frank’s request for urgency without breaking his gaze from the ace and jack of hearts that he clutched between his thumb and index finger.
- Chill brother. We be down in 5, yeah. Dis game just got inta-resting.
- Forget the game Harrison, you need to see what’s going on down there.
- And you a need see the look on Joey boy’s face when he finally realise that raising I-man is arlways a big mistake.
Harrison chucked a five pound note onto the pile of shrapnel in the middle of the table and shot a challenging look at his opponent.
- Wha’ ya say now big man? Still feeling confident?
Joe knew he’d come too far with this one. Harrison never raised like that unless he was sure. Suddenly, his interest in the game was waning. He glanced up at Frank.
- Come on buddy. I’ll come with you. Show me what’s going on down there to get you so excited.
Harrison grabbed Joe by the sleeve and tugged him back towards the table, being careful to conceal the hand of cards he seemed so proud of.
- Woah, woah, woah. Me nah tink so, Joe! Not ‘less ya say the word ‘fold’ to mek dis ting official. ‘Less dread feeling a lickle brave of course.
Frank was losing patience, knowing that Kate was probably downstairs blurting out all sorts of gold dust, whilst he was up here in this grim, low-budget, amateur casino.
- He’s got a full house of jacks and aces mate, now can we go?
Frank instantly felt bad for his rash blurting out of Harrison’s potentially winning hand.
- Raaas! Ya pussy ‘ole Frank. Why ya tell a man me hand a card?
Joe was trying his best to suppress his chuckling. He knew how seriously Harrison took his cards.
- I fold by the way mate.
- Yeah. I-man betya do fold now Joey. Frank, you a debted to I-man ferra five pound I just raised. Joey was rah tempted den ya know dread.
- I’d have paid a fiver to get you downstairs if you’d have just asked me to begin with. Now can we please hurry up. Kate’s down there talking like one of those past life regression hypnosis cases or something.
Harrison swept his winnings off the table and dumped them in his jacket pocket. Suddenly, he was a little more interested in what Frank was saying. The men headed towards the room where Kate was housed.
- Past life regress-ion, sight? What year is shorty sayin’ she be in?
- Well that’s the thing you see. She’s saying it’s 2007, but….
- 2007? It is 2007, ya clown!
- I know that, but….
- Well why ya tark aboot a past life regress-ion den Frankie?
- She’s saying she’s in Argentina and that she’s not Kate Gaffney.
Harrison interrupted.
- Gal be dreaming!
Frank looked disgusted at such an insultingly basic explanation.
- People can’t respond when they’re dreaming can they?
- I-man read aboot dis lucid dreaming. Dread be dreaming, but dread know ex-hactly wah gwan. Dread know dat him dreaming. He create arl sorta different worlds in his ‘ead. No limits. No boundaries, sight?
By this point, even Joe was able to spot the flaws in Harrison’s theory.
- But she hasn’t created a world in her head though, has she? Frank was actually there with her in the room. He wasn’t a figment of her imagination. So she’s not creating worlds. She’s interacting with this world. She spoke to you clear as day, right Frank?
- Right.
The whole subject was becoming confusing and the men were making it no clearer for each other, so they had arrived at the room at an opportune moment. They could see it for themselves now.
Inside, Kate lay motionless on the reclined, black chair. Now curled up in the foetal position, she looked a lot smaller and more vulnerable than Frank had remembered. Joe and Harrison moved over to her, leaning in to get a closer look, as if somehow they could peer inside her mind by getting close enough. Though they made no contact with her, Kate seemed to detect the breach of her personal space and flinched a little, letting out a gasp in the process. Frank intervened immediately, pushing Joe and Harrison aside. His brief interaction with Kate earlier had apparently given him superior authority over the other two.
- Give her some space boys.
Frank tried to resume where he’d left off.
- Madam. Can you hear me? Are you still with me?
Kate’s response was as if she’d never been away.
- Yeah, I’m here. How you doing?
- Yeah, I’m good…erm thank you, yes. I just remembered that you didn’t answer my question earlier.
A pause.
- Sure I answered it. I told you… I’m in Mendoza.
- Of course. But I was talking about my other question. You remember? I asked you your name.
There was a longer pause this time, during which Frank looked over at Joe and Harrison who were both perched on the edge of the worktop and both sporting intrigued if not slightly dubious expressions. Harrison leapt forward and broke the silence abruptly.
- Whatya name lady?
Kate’s brow ruffled at the sound of a new voice. With her eyes closed, it was hard to read whether the reaction was one of fear. She wriggled back to the foetus position as a kind of self-protective reaction. Frank wasn’t a fan of Harrison’s brash approach.
- Very tactful, you lemon! Could you be a bit blunter next time?
Harrison was irritated by Frank’s reaction, which prompted his West Indian accent to become thicker as it did when he was annoyed by something.
- Well, arl ya doing is acksing dees lickle pitter patter questions like she be a child or some ting.
Kate interrupted both of them.
- Who are you?
- I told you before madam. I’m Doctor Frank Gilbert.
- No, no. Not you, the other man that just spoke. He sounds nice.
Harrison shot Frank a smug look, as Kate’s preference for him swelled his ego a little. Joe McKenna remained perched next to the deep, metal sink basin and shook his head in disbelief at the randomness of what he was seeing. His colleague had started talking in an accent he n
ever even knew he had, and they were now all talking to an unconscious drug addict claiming to be in Argentina. Beyond surreal!
Harrison turned on the charm as if he was chatting her up in a club.
- Heya shorty. Me name a ‘arrison. It’s just me you and I-man now, sight?
Kate responded.
- Hi Harry.
Frank and Joe sniggered in unison. Partly at the fact that Harrison was flexing his lady’s-man voice to an unconscious drug addict, but more so at the fact that she’d just called him Harry. Harrison ignored the set-back and continued.
- Arl we want to know is your name gal. We don’t mean you no ‘arm. I arl-ready told you I’m ‘arrison.
- And I’m Daniella.
Even Harrison himself didn’t expect such an instant breakthrough.
- I’m Daniella Diaz. Have we met before?
- No darling, we nah met before.
Harrison returned to his perch on the worktop. His work here was done. Or more likely his point here was proved. He was happy with that.
In the meantime, Frank had engrossed himself in the internet again and was making various futile attempts to pin down some information on the girl. Typing “DANIELLA DIAZ ARGENTINA” returned nothing more than a few Twitter and MySpace accounts for people of that or a similar name. He tilted his glasses towards his forehead and rubbed his eyes in exasperation. If they were going to track this girl down, they would need to press the girl herself for more details and at the moment, Frank was finding that process exhausting. He stopped for a moment, as he realised how ludicrous his own thought pattern sounded. A heroin addict was under the influence of an unproven substance that had stripped her of her consciousness. Now the sleeping girl was claiming to be someone from the other side of the planet and his instant reaction was to believe her and go looking for this girl? When did he become so irrational? Not an ounce of logic was to be had anywhere amongst all of this. Yet somehow, Frank knew that going to Argentina was exactly what they needed to do right now.
And at that moment, the real Kate Gaffney awoke.