She has never felt so free as she does right now. Never so calm. So unfussed. So … knowledgeable.

Time passes. It’s impossible to quantify how much – hours certainly, it could be a day or more.

A babble of soft words fills the air, reassuring like downstairs voices to a sleeping child. The landscape is more vivid than she ever could have imagined, more beautiful.

From the mix, one voice begins to cut through above all the others.

A face comes into view.

She might have imagined it was God if it wasn’t quite so familiar.

The Long Wait

‘How long ago were you referred to us?’ the guy at the desk asks, tapping at a vintage-looking computer that is clearly not playing.

Will’s face feels warm. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Your GP, when they referred you? This year or last. Do you remember?’

Will sips his mocha, unsure how to answer.

‘Sorry, give me that name again, would you?’

‘William. Joshua. Parks. Look, I don’t think I’m … You see, I’ve not been –’

‘Possible psychosis, you said,’ the guy continues. ‘I’d like to think we’d have got you here quickly.’

He removes his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose while staring at the screen. He looks like a man in need of some time off.

‘I saw a poster,’ Will says. ‘In the café?’

The child and adolescent mental health service reception at which he now stands was just a short walk away.

‘That one,’ Will says, pointing at a copy of the same poster on the waiting room wall. ‘Thought maybe I should get, I don’t know, checked?’

He’s fast beginning to wish he hadn’t bothered.

The guy stops scanning his computer and exhales noisily. ‘You’ll need to be referred. I’m afraid there’s likely to be a wait.’

Will looks around the room. A couple of the green vinyl chairs are vacant. He’s still got at least half an hour to kill. ‘Can I take a seat?’

‘Like, a three-month wait. Quite probably more.’

Will nods, blood flooding his cheeks. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, I’m sorry. It’s a scandal,’ the guy says. ‘A … scandal,’ he repeats, redacting his own swear word. ‘A and E is your best hope if you’re in a bad way.’

‘Right.’

‘System’s screwed,’ he says quietly as Will turns to leave.

Will is almost out of the door when the receptionist catches up with him.

‘Take this,’ he says, passing him a leaflet. ‘Some helpful info, couple of helplines, that sort of thing.’

‘Cheers,’ Will mumbles.

‘Sorry I can’t do more. And remember, A and E if you’re really concerned.’