Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Someone to Watch Over Me

The girl’s eyes moved and she blinked. He leaned closer to her and smiled. ‘I have a confession to make: I forgot to ask for a therapist to come and speak to you today. But I promise I won’t forget again, and you can tell me off if he doesn’t come and see you tomorrow. First thing in the morning.’ He smiled again, overcome by how unreal she seemed. A life-size, living doll that couldn’t move. He continued to smile but now his smile was sad, even though it was meant to cheer her up. Of course, the girl couldn’t return the smile, and instead just stared at him with her big, frightened eyes. He wasn’t sure why he felt that her eyes were fearful; maybe because her gaze reminded him of a sick kitten that he’d once cradled in a feeble attempt to play veterinarian at the request of the middle-aged woman in the next-door apartment. She’d come to him because she knew that he worked at a hospital and asked him to take a look at the little scrap, which was sickly and hot. He had protested and explained that he knew nothing about animals, but to little avail. Still, it hadn’t been the opinion of his neighbour that had bothered him, but the eyes of the kitten, staring at him as its heart beat erratically in its tiny breast. The poor thing had realized that it depended entirely on the man who had it in his grasp; he could throw the creature down, crush it or cuddle it – as he did, of course. The girl was in the same situation; she was so helpless that her entire existence depended on others. If they didn’t nourish her, give her water, care, and everything else that a person needed, her days would be numbered. It must have been a terrible feeling, especially in a new place where she knew no one.

‘Are you expecting any visitors this evening? Your mother or father?’ They at least could make contact with the girl, even if most of the staff couldn’t do so. She blinked twice and he knew that meant no. They hadn’t been taught more than yes and no, any more than they’d been taught sign language when a deaf person was admitted.

‘I’ll let the evening shift know that they should ask you how you feel, whether you’re in any pain. Okay?’ She blinked once. ‘Are you in pain?’ She blinked twice but he was no nearer to knowing how she really felt. Her parents would have to get more information out of her, preferably about exactly what was wrong. He got goose bumps on his arms as once again he couldn’t help thinking about how it would feel to live only in your mind, your body a lifeless shell.

To prevent her from noticing how uncomfortable he suddenly felt in her presence, he quickly turned his back to her and pretended to be checking the IV drip. ‘Maybe you want to watch TV? There are movies until six on the hospital channel and I’m sure there’d be something you’d enjoy.’ He bent down to tilt her up in bed slightly, then fastened her securely beneath her arms with a specially designed harness, to prevent her from slipping back down. He pulled the television closer, turned it on and switched to the movie channel. On the screen appeared two American actors he recognized, although he didn’t know their names. He didn’t know which movie it was and could only hope she would like it. ‘There you are. My shift is almost finished, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

He turned in the doorway to look back at her. Up until then he had avoided her gaze, and he was startled to see that she was now following him with her eyes and blinking at him over and over. ‘See you tomorrow.’ He went into the corridor, half ashamed for not going back in. She probably had something on her mind but he felt so uncomfortable in her presence that he didn’t trust himself to try to ask her what it was. What was left of his shift would be put to better use writing a note to her parents. They could speak to her and find out what was bothering her. Once he had decided on this, he felt a bit better.

How was he to know that no one ever visited her?

The drive to Sogn seemed as if it would never end. Conditions were awful – drifting snow and black ice – and it felt like her destination was getting ever more distant. The awkward atmosphere among the passengers didn’t help: Matthew drove, while Thóra made repeated attempts to carry on a conversation with Grímheiður, Jakob’s mother. Thóra felt that they should have her with them at this first formal meeting with Thóra’s client. The woman was quiet and seemed to be terrified in the back seat, holding the handle above the window with a death grip. She told Thóra weakly that she didn’t have a driving licence, which made her feel rather anxious when the road conditions were so bad. She added that this was the reason she so rarely came to visit Jakob during the winter, though even in the summer she had difficulty finding a lift. She didn’t have many friends and of course her relatives had their hands full with their own lives; it wasn’t really on to ask them to drive her all the way out to the countryside east of Reykjavík. It had been easier when Jakob had been in the community residence, even though she’d had to walk a considerable distance from the bus stop. She concluded this short speech by thanking Thóra sincerely for wanting to bring her along; it had been more than a month since her last visit. Thóra was silent after hearing this; the situation between Grímheiður and her son was sadder than she’d imagined. All the same, she hoped the woman didn’t have too high hopes that this would be a completely normal visit.

En route, Thóra asked her tactfully about her and Jakob’s relationship with the lawyer Ari Gunnarsson, and received the answer she’d expected, that it had been rather strained. They’d been incredibly unlucky with the choice of Jakob’s supervisor; Thóra had gone through all the files he’d given her and there was scarcely any sign that he’d looked at them. There was nothing scribbled in the margins, no page corners turned down, and considering how messy the man seemed to be, this was unlikely to stem from any inclination to keep the files neat and tidy. Grímheiður said that Ari didn’t have any understanding of Jakob’s condition and that he’d constantly expected things from Jakob that Jakob was incapable of: taking notes, reading over depositions and criticizing them, and so forth. He’d also been rather rude to both Jakob and his mother and didn’t seem to put much effort into the defence, though Grímheiður stressed that she knew nothing about these things and was in no way qualified to judge. Thóra pursued this by asking her how Ari had come to be chosen as Jakob’s attorney, to which Grímheiður replied that the man had called her the morning after Jakob had been found wandering around after the fire and the process to formally arrest him had begun. This process wasn’t easy, since Jakob was underage and numerous people had to be summoned, including his mother, as his guardian. She didn’t know where Ari had got her number, but she believed that the police or someone else involved in the arrest must have given it to him. She had no idea how such things worked and accepted the man’s offer to defend her son. At that point it simply hadn’t occurred to her that this was anything other than a mistake that would soon be fixed. When this had turned out not to be the case she hadn’t wanted to take the trouble to change lawyers – she’d even thought that it was too late, since they were going to try to speed up the case as much as possible.

Thóra remained silent throughout Grímheiður’s account, though she found it all rather odd. The fire had occurred on Saturday evening and the formal arrest was made the next morning. Lawyers weren’t in the habit of calling people and offering them their services, least of all on a Sunday morning. How had Ari heard about the case? She’d never heard of the police getting in touch with lawyers to give them unsolicited, insider tips about possible clients, which made her think Grímheiður’s explanation was unlikely. It was of course possible that in all the fuss surrounding Jakob’s developmental level and his legal position, unorthodox procedures had been followed, but Thóra was dubious about this theory. If anything, the authorities would have wanted to do everything by the book.