Love on the NHS (24 page)

Luke hated all institutions. Care homes for adults were just as bad from reports he had read, news items he had seen and from what he had heard in anecdotal evidence from acquaintances. There had recently been a scandal after recorded evidence showed care home staff ganging up to assault learning disabled and Autistic residents. Luke was saddened that some people justified the existence of care homes; they would point out, as though a care home was the only and foregone conclusion to address the situation, some people needed a lot of help. "People would be able to get intense help in the community, in their own independent home, if there were not so many horrible people in this world," Luke would say. Action needed to be taken against those who worked in local councils, more interested in giving themselves six-figure salaries than investing in social care. "It would also of course help if people were properly punished for abusing disabled and marginalised people in the community," Luke would moan to his mother.            

Too often assaults on people with a disability were not treated seriously enough. If Luke's bullies in school had been tackled more robustly, he may have managed to finish and would have had to sink into the low depression he had found himself in. He was fortunate he not himself ended up in a care home, as he was interviewed by a psychiatrist who wanted to put him in one. Luke was lucky in having been assigned Michael for a psychologist who at the time had argued strongly Luke should stay at home. On the other hand, a lot of people had become homeless as a result of care home closures. That did not mean people of sense mourned the demise of care homes; it was only a sign that people were turning their head and looking the other way rather than address the needs of people; people who had previously been locked away, out of sight and out of mind; disabled people, mentally ill and behaviourally challenged people, who now had the horrors of media propaganda declaring most of them to be scroungers and the ensuing violent assaults such distorted information inspired.

Luke had read on the internet of efforts made in Rotterdam in the Netherlands to tackle homelessness. In the early 2000s, people living there had felt homelessness had grown out of control. A survey found around  two thousand people sleeping rough. Plans were drawn for new homes to be built that had ambitious support services attached but the proposals faced stiff opposition from residents. Nimbyism meant people did not want the homes to be built near them as they believed homeless people were often criminals and that their house prices and quality of life would be negatively affected. Yet politicians courageously stuck to the idea and eventually sold people on it; and afterwards in neighbourhoods the homeless moved into, people were enthusiastic about how well the plan had worked. With the right support, people had turned their lives around - in large part thanks to the Netherlands' extremely sensible policy of creating as many jobs as possible for people; for unemployment all too easily leads some people astray.

Luke performed good deeds besides giving to homeless people. He did almost all his shopping at one supermarket. one that had one of the best track records for supporting organic, free range and fair trade food and treating staff well. Where he could, he bought from smaller shops. He got his electricity and gas from Ecotricity, a company that invested more than any other in wind turbines. It was more expensive than most companies but that was the point - doing a good deed usually costed something, that was part of why it was good. He did not drive a car either which he saw as the best way of helping the environment. The most difficult commitment he made to helping the environment - yet also the most worthwhile - was placing most his money in the Triodos Bank. He still kept a a bank account with a large multi-national bank to receive his money - but he would then deposit most of it into his Triodos account. What was special about Triodos was that they only lent money to companies who first proved they had a social conscience built into their business: whether that was being green by using solar panels or recycling; or by giving positions to underemployed people in society such as disabled people and ethnic minorities; or by offering other tangible community benefits and not being solely interested in making profit.

The large multi-national banks lent money to almost anyone - nuclear and coal power stations, loggers cutting down the last forests, arms companies selling to authoritarian governments. With his Triodos account Luke had to give a month's notice before he withdrew money and so he only placed his savings in there. He always kept a few hundred pounds in his multi-national bank to have enough for his immediate monthly living costs and any emergencies that might pop up. Though having to give notice was annoying Luke could appreciate that since Triodos was operating fairly unlike almost every other bank they could not make so much money and therefore required more security with the funds people invested with them. Even if he himself felt a failure when he could not get involved in any political campaigns or do anything to help anyone directly he still felt proud that by simply putting a large amount of his money in one bank he was helping others.

It struck Luke that people who vehemently denied man-made global warming taking place failed to understand any environmental problems. If they opposed the specific theory of global warming, a proposition that was not conclusively proven then fair enough - but there were other issues too. Flooding had become more common since such a vast number of trees had been cut down. So many countries had once been covered with forests. Now there were so few trees to absorb rainwater that it was leading to thousands of homes being ruined, lives uprooted and increasing food prices due to spoiled farms.

The loss of diversity in species was happening because of intensive farming too and it meant so many potential discoveries were to be lost forever. Farmed animals were on so much of the world's land - even in one of the most beautiful locations on earth, the Lake District. Even that haven from the madness of mass living was having its nature eaten up by farms full of sheep. Who knew what the many insects, birds, amphibians and fish of the world could produce or what their importance was? New discoveries were found about the nature of all things every day. The loss of these species and plant varieties could be fatal to the future of medicine, for as modern and synthetic as its products were they all were rooted from ingredients that had grown preciously in the wild. Humans were rapidly altering food chains: they hunted some creatures to extinction or ignorantly polluted their environments, whose knock-on effects could lead to quandaries like increases in pest populations due to a scarcity of essential predators.

If some critics would call those like Luke pious, so be it. A line had to drawn in the sand somewhere. Concerning other good deeds, Luke did not often give money to charity as he had read that executives received massive wages and was sceptical charities sowed  as much virtue as they claimed. Public relations was all the rage among them these days and and it was all too easy to believe they only put a positive spin on an inconsequential or corrupt organisation. Since charities were exempted from tax how better for wealthy individuals to hide their wealth and avoid contributing to society? The hypocrisy of it was staggering. He did, however, once give a couple of hundred pounds to the Cats Trust; probably because he did not like the idea of animals suffering and he was very upset to see how horrible a condition some were found abandoned in, as he had seen in a brochure sent to him through the post.

When he would get rid of things, Luke would usually carry them outside and leave them in a phone box or on the street for someone to simply pick up. Bartering and wheeling and dealing were unenjoyable to him and he had enough money to manage, why not be a little generous? He gave things to charity shops too though they did not always accept electricals. Most famously of all he gave away a tropical plant. Not long after moving into his apartment after a shopping trip to Ikea he bought the enormous plant. He christened her Big Bertha. She stayed for a few months but as she kept growing and he could not look after her well enough, he left her outside the local pub, where someone picked her up. A week later he saw her through the window of the hairdresser's shop around the corner, a home she stayed in for many years, staring out at Luke and reminding him of what a small world it was.

XXXIX

Another day had passed and it was now a few since leaving the voice message; so having heard nothing Luke left a red rose with the receptionist at Jolly's office. What she wanted Luke did not know. Did she need to be courted more? Or was she uninterested? He could not figure it out. Here the lack of a theory of mind that is a symptom of Asperger's Syndrome was quite a weakness for Luke. Most people would have concluded she was not interested but Luke did not understand how other people thought about things - or in plain language lacked a theory of mind. A common error Luke could make was believing other people felt similarly to him about a situation - unless they were quite obvious they did not.

Upon the morning a knock came at the door. Opening his eyes to blurry vision and a sense of shock, Luke rushed out of bed and ran for his door keys. When he got to the door and saw the silhouette of two figures in black he felt something leap inside him. They were two police officers. Opening the door, he saw the guns in their holsters and the set expressions on their faces.

"Are you Luke Jefferson?" asked the one on the right.

"Yeah. I am."

"You're wanted by Greater Woecaster Police. We're arresting you under suspicion of criminal harassment. Would you like to get dressed?"

"Yeah."

"We'll come in with you. We have to watch as you get dressed to make sure you don't hide any evidence."

"Don't mind us," said the other. "It's standard procedure"

"Why have you been sent here?" Luke asked, putting on his underwear.

"You're on Greater Woecaster's top ten most wanted. But we don't know, we're just the delivery men. We don't know details - we just collect."

 After Luke dressed he was driven to the station where after giving his details at the desk he was moved to a cell. For a few minutes, he struggled to believe this was happening. Say I am dreaming, he thought. What on earth am I here for? Nothing makes sense. He began to cry. Why am I here? he wondered. He might have asked but he dared not from his past experiences. After an hour, the cell door was opened.

"Here's a menu. You need to tick which options you want and we'll be back in five minutes."

 Luke selected a chicken curry with rice. The officer returned and took Luke's menu and instructed him the meal would be posted through shortly. Come dinner time, Luke saw that he had been given rice that was white to which he sighed. It was not appropriate for him at all. White rice made him feel weak because it raised his blood sugar too much and - although he had no diabetes diagnosis - it did not require a degree in medicine to know it ailed him. "I suppose I must resign myself to be diabetic while I am here," thought Luke. "Just like an Indian must in India. Oh, the joys of cultural traditions!"

As he stared at the bare walls around him he lied down and kept turning. The white rice had done his circulation no favours and the bed was hard. There was no window in the room and the air smelled sweaty and stuffy. His breathing was heavy and quick and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he contemplated what lied before him. After an hour of fidgeting, he was coaxed to wondrous sleep. But at length a noise startled him awake. Someone was being placed in the neighbouring cell. The door slammed shut and he heard a chain clatter as it was locked. In another cell Luke heard a man speaking in a foreign tongue. He was shouting irately, banging on the cell walls. Footsteps were loping back and forth. He struggled to discern which cell they were going to. Each time he heard them pass he felt it must be his. What they would do to him was an unknown. Supposing they believed him to be a criminal, it could get ugly.

Luke had seen stories on the news, and videos on YouTube too, about people who had died in police station cells after being tasered or through suffocation by restraint. He imagined the police were building a case against him, whatever they were charging him with. It could be based on lies, on what officers that day he collapsed had noted. The torment of unseen files was profound for the human mind is nothing if not curious. Then a knock came on the door and an officer lowered the face window.

"Do you want a lawyer?"

"Yeah."

"Which one?"

"I don't know any."

"Okay. We will arrange one from the duty lawyers."

The door was shut and Luke's isolation resumed. He felt utterly powerless. His lawyer would only see him, it was becoming evident, just before his interview. Time to prepare for whatever the police accused him of would be minimal.

He began to think of death and of the nature of everything. He prayed to God, or the Gods or the universe - or whatever was out there. In powerlessness people finally gave in to the indignity of letting go of their inhibitions about praying. Images flickered in his mind - was he going to court; to prison, where he could be beaten, raped or murdered by the other inmates; and would the officers threaten him? All he wanted was someone to talk to. There was no one. He wondered why there were no independent observers in police stations. Surely all the deaths in custody rendered them essential. Without independent people present who were unaligned to the police, where were the safeguards? How could people know how people were being treated on the ground? Luke could not trust the police. He knew of many officers who had been found innocent when put on trial for abuse of office, even when the evidence was so strong it would have sent anyone else to prison for ten years.

What it all meant stumped him. Life - what was the point of it? People would read textbooks in their science classes that told them the earth was round, that it revolved around the sun and that light moved in waves. How did they actually know? And what about the textbooks and the computer screens people received their information from? How did those tangible objects come from nothing - or more accurately, from tiny chemical particles? There was an explanation for everything and yet everything could not be explained. The big bang proposed a theory to the origin of the universe, only where was the explanation for who or what started it? In short, nothing made sense. He dreaded that he might die full of this confusion and with a broken heart to top it all too.