As I nervously paced the floor in the foyer area I fingered the jagged piece of glass nestled reassuringly at the depths of my pocket. My rich pickings from Mel’s latest fist through the ‘f**king window’ exploits of the previous night. I glanced from time to time at Dr Morris, who was seated near the artificial plants. She kept a close eye on me.

I continued pacing up and down, painfully aware that Cath was already in the special Consultation Room, discussing our relationship with Dr Aziz. My eyes narrowed jealously.

Now it was my turn to be ushered in. The madman enters the scene. A quick look around revealed a room devoid of comfort. There was a low black table where two shiny black microphones and a tape recorder stood. Surrounding the table were several office chairs. The lighting was harsh and reflected back from the black glass wall at the end of the room, from the top of which a CCTV camera pointed inwards.

As I entered nervously I could see the back of Dr Aziz, standing with his face towards the wall. He turned as I entered. He was a tall, bearded man with slightly dark skin. He gestured for me to sit in one of the seats and began flicking the switches on the microphones. Once everything was set he sat opposite me and began the interview.

I answered in a low tone. ‘Stupid man’ I thought as he spent most of the time talking about my childhood, my relationship with my parents, particularly the one with my mother. Couldn’t he see this was about Cath? Cath and me. Tension, fuelled by anger, began welling inside me. I continued to answer in a low tone, barely audible, for I suddenly became aware of the camera over my head and the tape recorder on the table. I strained my eyes at the black glass, hoping to be reassured by the sight of Dr Morris’s outline. I met with an eerie blackness. All at once my emotions crossed the thin line into fear and paranoia. I could speak only of what I knew. Cath. The pure, obsessional love I felt for this woman. Silently I willed this strange doctor to understand what I was going through.

The time allotted for my own individual interview passed quickly and the time had come. Cath re-entered the room. I smiled for the first time on that miserable day. She looked away. Something was going wrong. It was over. All over. The double life I’d lived for the past year, juggling my public persona with my private life had been all in vain. Only a few seconds had passed but I had heard enough to know that I would never see Cath again. The anguish and misery of the relationship was both over and about to begin?

The tensions inside me snapped and I began to scream. I leapt from the seat and brandishing the piece of glass, lunged forward. The microphone stood between Dr Aziz and me and I punched it, sending it crashing to the ground. I wanted to kill the man who had finally destroyed the very thing I lived for. Before I could even get close to him I felt strong, restraining arms around me.

Dr Pam Morris appeared with a security guard and was dragging me, kicking and screaming from the room. Why? I wanted to go back to Cath. She mustn’t separate us. We were one. Maybe it had something to do with the cameras? They were sending out negative rays. They were poisoning Cath’s mind. Pam had put them there. She was part of it. They were all plotting against me. I must remove the film, it would be used against me. I struggled. Pam called for more assistance and I was held back by alien forces for now. Even Pam had gone.

“Cath!” I screamed towards the room. “I loved you, I really loved you!” Suddenly I didn’t need to be restrained anymore. I sank down onto a seat, the same seat Pam had occupied earlier. Deflated, dejected and utterly distraught I could only weep.

“Are you ready to go back with us?” Pam gently asked, holding my chin in her hand. I looked up at her as she stood stooped in front of me. Her face appeared horribly distorted. Her hair, that wonderful hair, cascaded down the sides of her face. Where golden locks once were I now saw evil serpents lashing towards me. In an instant Dr Morris had become the ‘bad mother’. I shrank back in fear.

I was propelled towards Gladstone Ward by Dr Morris and a male member of staff from the Secure Unit. As we drew level with the church I broke away, intending to run through the arch and out onto the Clayhill Arterial Road. I can only assume that my ensuing behaviour was well anticipated for they dealt with my intended escape promptly. I was physically attached to them for the remainder of the journey back to Gladstone Ward.

Once on the ward I was taken straight to the rear of the Nurse’s Office. My Section papers had been prepared. Nicole was the executor of my charges.