California. But
they said he’s away on government business and can’t be contacted.’
‘He won’t reply,’ Frank said bitterly.
‘You sound angry with him. You must have been, to do what you did.’
Frank said nothing.
‘Why did you become a scientist like your brother?’ Dr Wilson asked, his tone conversational again. ‘Did you want to compete with him?’
‘No,’ Frank replied wearily. ‘I was just interested in science, in geology, how old the Earth is, what a little speck in space we live on. I did it for
myself
.’ He
spoke with a sudden vehemence.
‘Nothing to do with Edgar?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Frank, if I’m to help, you must tell me more. I wonder if a course of electric shock treatment might help jolt you out of this withdrawn state. We shall have to start thinking about
it.’
Afterwards the Scottish attendant, Ben, took Frank back to the ward. The rain had stopped. The light was beginning to fade. ‘How did it go?’ Ben asked.
Frank looked at Ben again. The thought crossed his mind that Dr Wilson might have asked him to report back on what Frank said. So he fell back on his staple answer. ‘I don’t
know.’
‘Lucky youse is middle-class and educated, Wilson’s no’ interested in the chronic cases, the poor sods wi’ no money that have been on the wards for years. He thinks
he’s too good for this place anyway. His father was a doctor, his cousin’s a civil servant at the Ministry of Health. Aul’ snob. Class is everything.’ Ben spoke quietly, but
with an undertone of bitterness.
‘He talked about shock treatment,’ Frank said hesitantly. He swallowed. ‘I’ve overheard other patients discussing that.’
Ben grimaced. ‘It’s not nice. They tie you down with leather straps and put electric shocks through your brain. They say it cures depression. I think it does, sometimes. But
they’re a bit free and easy with it. And they should use anaesthetic.’
‘It hurts?’
Ben nodded.
‘Have you seen it done?’
‘Aye.’
Frank’s heart began to pound. He took deep breaths. His bad hand hurt and he massaged the two atrophied fingers. Their footsteps slapped along the wet path.
Ben said, ‘There are worse things. Lobotomies – a surgeon comes up from London every few months to do those. Cuts part of your brain out. Jesus, the state of some patients
afterwards. Don’t worry, they won’t do that to you.’ Ben gave Frank a sudden guilty look. ‘Sorry I mentioned it.’
Frank asked, cautiously, ‘What part of Scotland do you come from?’
‘Glasgow.’ Ben smiled. ‘Glesca. D’ye know Scotland?’
‘I went to school near Edinburgh.’
‘I thought I heard a trace of Morningside. One of those Edinburgh private schools?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which one?’
‘Strangmans,’ Frank answered quickly. He wanted to change the subject.
‘I’ve heard those places can be hard. Harder than Glesca schools even.’
‘Yes.’
‘Still, I hear there’s public schools just as tough in England.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Frank said, his voice catching. ‘Before I came in, I heard on the news about this new law they’re planning, the compulsory sterilizations. Dr Wilson was
reading something about it.’
‘That’s just for the mentally deficient, and what they call the moral degenerates. Wilson’ll be quite happy to see them sterilized. Dregs of society, that’s how he sees
them, the auld scunner.’ That bitter note in Ben’s voice again. He looked at Frank’s bad hand. ‘What happened there?’
‘An accident. At school.’ Frank turned to him. ‘I want to get out of here.’
‘Ye canna, no’ unless Wilson says you’re sane again.’ Ben considered, then added, ‘Unless someone can bring influence, maybe get you transferred, maybe tae a
private clinic away from here. What about your brother?’
Frank shook his head despairingly. ‘Edgar won’t even take their calls.’
‘What about the people where you work?’
‘Dr Wilson asked me
they said he’s away on government business and can’t be contacted.’
‘He won’t reply,’ Frank said bitterly.
‘You sound angry with him. You must have been, to do what you did.’
Frank said nothing.
‘Why did you become a scientist like your brother?’ Dr Wilson asked, his tone conversational again. ‘Did you want to compete with him?’
‘No,’ Frank replied wearily. ‘I was just interested in science, in geology, how old the Earth is, what a little speck in space we live on. I did it for
myself
.’ He
spoke with a sudden vehemence.
‘Nothing to do with Edgar?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Frank, if I’m to help, you must tell me more. I wonder if a course of electric shock treatment might help jolt you out of this withdrawn state. We shall have to start thinking about
it.’
Afterwards the Scottish attendant, Ben, took Frank back to the ward. The rain had stopped. The light was beginning to fade. ‘How did it go?’ Ben asked.
Frank looked at Ben again. The thought crossed his mind that Dr Wilson might have asked him to report back on what Frank said. So he fell back on his staple answer. ‘I don’t
know.’
‘Lucky youse is middle-class and educated, Wilson’s no’ interested in the chronic cases, the poor sods wi’ no money that have been on the wards for years. He thinks
he’s too good for this place anyway. His father was a doctor, his cousin’s a civil servant at the Ministry of Health. Aul’ snob. Class is everything.’ Ben spoke quietly, but
with an undertone of bitterness.
‘He talked about shock treatment,’ Frank said hesitantly. He swallowed. ‘I’ve overheard other patients discussing that.’
Ben grimaced. ‘It’s not nice. They tie you down with leather straps and put electric shocks through your brain. They say it cures depression. I think it does, sometimes. But
they’re a bit free and easy with it. And they should use anaesthetic.’
‘It hurts?’
Ben nodded.
‘Have you seen it done?’
‘Aye.’
Frank’s heart began to pound. He took deep breaths. His bad hand hurt and he massaged the two atrophied fingers. Their footsteps slapped along the wet path.
Ben said, ‘There are worse things. Lobotomies – a surgeon comes up from London every few months to do those. Cuts part of your brain out. Jesus, the state of some patients
afterwards. Don’t worry, they won’t do that to you.’ Ben gave Frank a sudden guilty look. ‘Sorry I mentioned it.’
Frank asked, cautiously, ‘What part of Scotland do you come from?’
‘Glasgow.’ Ben smiled. ‘Glesca. D’ye know Scotland?’
‘I went to school near Edinburgh.’
‘I thought I heard a trace of Morningside. One of those Edinburgh private schools?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which one?’
‘Strangmans,’ Frank answered quickly. He wanted to change the subject.
‘I’ve heard those places can be hard. Harder than Glesca schools even.’
‘Yes.’
‘Still, I hear there’s public schools just as tough in England.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Frank said, his voice catching. ‘Before I came in, I heard on the news about this new law they’re planning, the compulsory sterilizations. Dr Wilson was
reading something about it.’
‘That’s just for the mentally deficient, and what they call the moral degenerates. Wilson’ll be quite happy to see them sterilized. Dregs of society, that’s how he sees
them, the auld scunner.’ That bitter note in Ben’s voice again. He looked at Frank’s bad hand. ‘What happened there?’
‘An accident. At school.’ Frank turned to him. ‘I want to get out of here.’
‘Ye canna, no’ unless Wilson says you’re sane again.’ Ben considered, then added, ‘Unless someone can bring influence, maybe get you transferred, maybe tae a
private clinic away from here. What about your brother?’
Frank shook his head despairingly. ‘Edgar won’t even take their calls.’
‘What about the people where you work?’
‘Dr Wilson asked me
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