Easy Whizzy Let's Get Busy.
by Angharad with improvements by Bonzi Cat.
part:CCLXXIII

Author's note: This episode contains scenes of mental illness.

I prepared the leg of lamb and popped it in the oven, not the slow oven as I'd intended, but the top one. It would still taste pretty good in two or three hours time, but my intentions had been distracted by the trespassers and Stella's fears, which were like panic attacks.

I'm a biologist not a psychologist, so dealing with counting beans is fine, post traumatic thingy is not my scene at all, it pushes my buttons for some reason, probably because I need to feel in control. Given my childhood, I suppose it wouldn't be surprising if I was stuck in the anal stage.

Thinking of my childhood made me think of a good idea. I'd take Stella up to Bristol with me. I could arrange a meeting with Des, and she'd be there to act as official gooseberry. I'd ask her when she came down from her nap.

Kiki had eaten her biscuits and got them all over the kitchen floor, how many crumbs can one Bonio produce? On the evidence, about half a skip load. "I'll shoot you," I said to her, whilst sweeping up the mess, she wagged her tail and licked me - ugh! I know Tom lets her lick him, but I don't like it. I washed the wet off my hand and got on with the veg, parboiling the spuds before putting them in for roasting. The carrots were next, and I made carrot sticks, which I put in a dish with butter and put in the oven. This meal was not going to short of animal fat - better get some exercise soon.

Everything was under control in the kitchen, except possibly Kiki, nothing new there. I decided to nip out to the garage after changing into some trousers, and see if I could tolerate a bike saddle. Thankfully the garage has a light in it, so I pulled the bike, the Scott, near to the wall lifted my leg over and standing over the cross bar, thought, 'here goes'. With that I gently eased my bum on to the saddle and leaning against the wall with my left hand. It wasn't too bad. It was now about six weeks since the op and it was, I suppose, about the time they say one can risk sex, not with a bicycle however. With a ladies bike, would that be lesbianism?

I smiled at my silly thought and back pedalled for a couple of minutes, it wasn't too bad, given that I wasn't wearing cycling shorts with the thick chamois, which is actually a gel pad these days. In those it should be easier. So I needed someone to babysit Stella while I found a few minutes to try a short ride. My fitness would be zilch, anyway.

I felt quite pleased with myself as I walked back to the house, having triple locked the garage - there was over eleven thousand pounds worth of bikes in there. I walked into the house and a distraught Stella came rushing out to me.

"Where were you?" she shrieked.

"Out at the garage, just calm down."

"I thought you'd left me."

"I wouldn't do that, and you know it."

"But you did. I came down and you weren't here." She was nigh on hysterical.

"I told you where I was."

"You weren't here, you weren't here."

"Pull yourself together!" I said firmly, probably about the worst thing I could have said, because if she could have done, I'm sure she would have done. However, I was a bit tired of being blamed for everything, even if she was verging on mental illness.

"Don't you think I would if I could? How could you leave me here on my own?" She was now ranting at me.

"Be quiet." I said. She was getting on my nerves; I'd had a hard day too. She continued her screaming at me.

"BE QUIET!" I shouted and she stopped for a moment then went back to her tirade.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, SHUT UP!" I shouted as loudly as I could. Kiki ran for cover and Stella actually cringed and fell silent, her body heaving with shudders as she sobbed.

"That's better," She went to speak again, and I hushed her, "now, no one has left you alone, and I shut the front door so you'd be safe. I was in the garage checking out something with my bike. You are perfectly safe, so just relax. I'll make some tea."

I walked past her and switched the kettle on, getting out two mugs while it boiled. I was frightened by the way she was, and wondered if I'd cope with it much longer, wishing it wasn't my problem.

Knowing she'd made me angry, she followed me, but at a distance. I suppose I was the stronger party at this moment and she was keeping me happy. I felt so inadequate, nothing had prepared me for this. It seemed ironic that Stella had been one of the most self sufficient and confident women I knew, and look at her now! It was awful.

Simon and Tom would have to help me with her. I couldn't cope on my own, I'd be as crazy as she was. No that wasn't fair, she wasn't crazy, she was ill. The ordeal she'd undergone had brought this about, had I hoped, only temporarily changed her and soon we'd have the same old Stella back again. If I met those monsters again, the ones who'd done this to her, I would show them the same sort of mercy - none.

I hoped Simon would be home tonight, I needed to talk with him about her, we needed help, professional help. Knowing him, he'd have her shipped off to the nearest Priory Clinic, which whilst it would provide a solution, I wasn't sure was the right one.

I was caught on the horns of a dilemma again, do I do what's best for me, or what I believe is best for Stella, after seeking medical advice?

I sat down and put the teas on the kitchen table. She had stabilised and was breathing normally. "Dinner smells good," she said, smiling at me.

"Yes, roast lamb."

"Oh yummy," she said sounding like a schoolgirl. "I'm sorry I made a fuss."

"That's okay, it was a misunderstanding."

"You won't have me locked up, will you?"

"Why should I?" I lied, wondering if she was a mind reader.

"You know, my little scene out there." I could see tears filling her eyes.

"Stella, you are my sister, I'm here to help you as much as I can, because I know you'd help me if the positions were reversed. You frightened me a little while ago, it took me by surprise. Now just trust me, I won't leave you alone again unless there is someone suitable like Simon or Tom here to stay with you, okay?"

"You want to lock me up, don't you?" The tears were streaming down her face.

"I just told you I don't want to lock you up. I want you to get better."

"Who were you talking to out there?"

"I was in the garage, on my own. I was fiddling with my bikes."

"You were talking to them, weren't you?"

"Who?"

"Them, the police, they're going to section me, aren't they?"

"Stella, please calm down, I have spoken to no one since our uninvited visitors left, except you and the dog. I do not want to see you hospitalised, but if you don't calm down you're going to put yourself into one."

She stood up and flung the tea at me, "I knew I couldn't trust you, you're one of them." She ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door and locking it.

I went upstairs and tried talking to her through the door, she yelled back obscenities at me and accusations of wanting to get her locked up. As I came downstairs, there was part of me which agreed with the latter suggestion, she as beyond my capability. I called the hospital and asked for someone to call me back.

About half an hour later, just as Tom was coming in, the phone rang. I answered it. It was the duty psychiatrist. I explained the situation and he said she needed to be hospitalised and given intensive therapy.

Whilst I couldn't argue with the Indian sounding gentleman, I wondered if she couldn't be treated at home. He didn't seem to think so. I thanked him and told him I would call him back if things got worse. He wasn't too impressed with me by the tone of his voice.

I spoke with Tom who was standing with his eyes getting ever larger as he listened to the one sided conversation. I brought him up to date with the two yobs and how she had gone to pieces while I was in the garage. He immediately went up to speak with her. I phoned her GP.

I just caught him before leaving his surgery and because he knew her well, he agreed to call by and see her. I hoped he could give her a shot of something to calm her down.

I tended the dinner, which was going to be a treat, but which I now didn't feel like eating. Tom was sitting outside Stella's door when I took him up a cup of tea, she wouldn't let him in, but her voice from the other side of it reassured us she hadn't tried to hurt herself.

"Let me try," I said and he gestured to the door.

"Stella, it's Cathy, would you like a cup of tea? I've just made a pot."

"Go away."

"Do you remember how you helped me when I was first with Simon, where once or twice I thought I wanted to be on my own, but you came and spoke with me and helped me through it?"

"So what?"

"Well I owe you one and I'd like to help you like you helped me."

"You're not a nurse."

"No, but you are. You could teach me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I might be able to help others. Remember how we tried to help Stevie and his family? We sort of did in the end. I'd like to be able to do better next time."

"Join the Samaritans* then!"

"Stella, I want you to teach me."

"Why?"

"Because we're sisters, remember? You're my elder sister. I need you to teach me things."

"What do you want to know?"

"Lots of things, I need you to show me how to use ..." my mind went blank, what could I get her to show me, so she had to open the door, "body language, yes you know, non verbals."

"What for?"

"Well they say we communicate much more by non verbals than we do by words, I need you to teach me about that, because you're much better at it than I am." This was hard work. I suddenly thought the doctor would be here in a minute and sent Tom down to let him in.

It went very quiet the other side of the door and I heard the lock click, I muttered a thanks to a God I don't believe in and the door opened.

"Where's that tea?" she said, and smiled at me.

* Samaritans - a charity who help people who feel desperate or suicidal.