Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

I was about to say something, but this idiot looked genuinely concerned, and like she was trying to help- and I didn’t want to just jump in.

“Do you want to talk about it, darling?”

“It’s okay, Nina. We’re all here for you. It’s good to talk about it.”

The jolts through her back and shoulders were getting worse.

“Come on. We’re not getting a lot done today class. Talking helps. It will help you all.”

Cindy sighed. Her eyes admitted the defeat. A sad look wavered, but it disappeared quickly. She skipped the next few patients and addressed the guy on my left, still biting his nails.

“Come on, Sandy, you’re not usually shy. What do you have to say?”

He looked absolutely knackered, his bloodshot eyes showing several days' lack of sleep. But there was a hint of calculation and intelligence in his pupils, a semblance of life that seemed to be lacking in the others. He was around fortyish, wearing a red checked shirt and baggy jeans, and had a big bald patch like a forest clearing in the middle of his chunky head.

“Why can ah no long-ger git day release?” he replied in a soft Yorkshire accent, so directly it made me sit up.

“Now, come on now, Sandy. You know why. You remember what happened last time.”

I looked at him with added interest. But I seemed to be the only one- Nina was still sniffling, covering her face, all other eyes were still focused on the floor, looking more deadened than ever.

“Yeah, allrigheet. Granted. But that t’were one-off. One strike and yer out dunt seem fair. I just want t’nother chance.”

Another chink of her enthusiasm died. “Okay” she said, “Well for matters like that, you know that it’s Hazel you need to talk to.”

“But she’s too busy. And I want t’ talk t’ you bout’ it. You said any problem we ad, well this is ma prob-lim.”

Her eyes glassed over again. She crossed her legs and sat further back in her chair. She rubbed one of the bangles on her right wrist. “I’m sorry, but you know I can’t help. There’s nothing I can do. It is not in my hands. Look, is there anything else you can talk about? How’s your anxiety?”

“But he wants to talk about tha-” I piped in, but she spun on me,

“You’ve had your turn to talk, honey, and will get another chance in a minute. It is Sandy’s time now.”

Sandy’s lidded eyes beheld me in an expression I couldn’t read. This whole class is pointless, I thought. Maybe the rest of the group know it too?

“How is your anxiety? Is it any better?”

 “Yeah, it’s better.” He said softly. “Them new meds ave elped.”

“Great! And are you sleeping better?”

“Aye.”

“GREAT! GOOD STUFF!” She leapt on the tiny glimpse of positivity, “I’M REALLY GLAD TO HEAR THAT!”

Sandy nodded very slowly. Then his pupils flicked around nervously. He breathed in deep. “Lucinda?” he inquired.

“Yes?”

He suddenly leaned forward “I’m dying t’ get out, just for bit of air. Even ten minutes would do me good. Could you see if we all could do somethin’- I mean there’s t’ garden right outside that windaw, all that space gone t’ waste, and me am desperate. Sometimes I reckon this place is make-in us worse, not better, so-”

Cindy’s face froze. Her body too, went rigid. “Do you mean that?” she snapped.

Sandy realized he’d gone too far. His mouth was still open from his volley of words, and as his eyes met the anger in hers, it slowly closed itself again.

“No. I don’t. Sorry. I don’t mean that. I didn’t.”

“Well, you better not. I really hope not. You have been told why on numerous occasions why you can’t get outside. Now, do you have anything to say apart from moaning about what you don’t have?”

But Sandy had backed right down. He didn’t dare to look at her.

“No, I doan’t have nuthin t’ say.” he almost whispered to the floor.

Cindy nudged her glasses to the bridge of her nose. She roughly rubbed her bangles and looked angrily at the group. “I’m really disappointed by the lack of cooperation today. And Sandy, that comment in particular was especially ignorant and, unnecessary. As I said a few weeks ago, I went to India last month. And some of the people there have absolutely nothing.” She almost spat the last word out. “No food. No clothes. No toilets. No clean water. People are dying of cholera. They can’t afford simple operations that will fix their kids' eyes from cataracts, and that will stop them from going blind. They’re absolutely desperate for hospitals and treatment. Each of you has all of this! And it’s all free! You really don’t know how lucky you are. You really don’t...” she went on, ..“There are so many people in the world much worse off than you are.”

She kept shaking her head, looking at us like we’d let her down.

She turned to me.

“Aisha, you had something to say?”

“No.” I said. “I did, but I don’t now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

I looked towards the window.

“Well?”

Chapter 13

T he cool air in the corridor refreshed me. Dale- a Pete Townsend lookalike in his forties- stopped and took out his keys before the buffer zone doors. We all got inside and I listened for an instruction on what we were next to do, but the rest of the group disappeared into their rooms, so I assumed we had some free time until the next orders were announced. I opened my door and stepped inside.

I sat for ten minutes, but I was surprised I felt restless rather than tired. It must have been nerves. I couldn’t stay in there. I got up and paced down the corridor, past the other rooms and the nurse’s station, where Sanders and Kev were at the desk filling out paperwork, and I went into the common room.

Only a few people were scattered in front