"I know," he said unconvincingly "I didn't mean that."
He stepped back into his office and shut the door, leaving her alone in the corridor.
The bus stop to the town was directly across the dual carriageway facing the main hospital gates and the long, high wall. Concrete blocks of flats loomed at the top of a grass embankment behind it. It was the bus stop Douglas had picked her up from on the first night they had slept together. A sweet old lady in full makeup was waiting in the shelter. She caught Maureen's eye when she came in and smiled pleasantly. "Oh, this rain," she said.
"Aye," said Maureen, hoping it wasn't going to lead to a full-blown conversation. " 'S miserable."
The dual carriageway was deserted in front of them. A figure appeared across the road at the gates of the hospital, a fat, bespectacled woman with short, dirty, flat hair. Her blue plastic jacket flapped open, showing a glittery gold halter-neck top worn without a bra. She needed one. Her large breasts washed fluidly around her middle. She was trying to get across the road but was stuck at "look left, look right."
Maureen stepped out of the shelter and called to her. "Suicide, come on!"
Suicide Tanya stared across at her.
"Come over the road now," shouted Maureen.
Tanya walked halfway across and began to look left and right again.
"It's clear, Tanya, you can come over."
Tanya came to life, belted across the road and stopped on the grass verge behind the bus stop. She turned, looked at Maureen through her rain-speckled glasses and pointed a tobacco-stained finger an inch away from her nose. "I know you," she shouted. "Helen!"
Suicide Tanya was an ageless, grizzled woman with, as her nickname suggested, a habit of attempting suicide. She was known as Suicide Tanya all over the city: all the emergency services knew her, or of her. She was forever being dragged out of the Clyde at low tide, having her stomach pumped clean of bizarre substances and being made to get off the railway tracks at main-line stations. They met in the yellow waiting room at the Rainbow. Maureen was in a state on her second visit to the clinic. She had been having panic attacks all morning, had misread her watch and turned up an hour early. Tanya came in and sat next to her, shouting her life story. She was unhappy and kept doing bad things, so they gave her pills that made her simple and fat, but she preferred it that way because they can't arrest you for being fat, Tanya. It was one of her many strange habits of speech: she repeated things other people had said to her without having the wit to plagiarize properly and change the wording or the intonation. She had to come to the Rainbow once a week to see Douglas and get her medication from the psychiatric nurse – she couldn't be trusted with more than a week's supply at a time.
She huddled into the shelter and spoke to the waiting lady. "I couldn't see right," she shouted, "because my glasses got rain on them."
The lady realized that Tanya was a bit mental – it wouldn't have taken a hardened professional to spot it: she had a booming voice and the concentration span of a spliffed goldfish. The lady turned away and walked, as if casually, out of the shelter to stand in the drizzling rain.
"Did you see that?" shouted Suicide, pointing at the nervous woman through the glass. "Snobby!"
"Just leave it, Suicide," said Maureen.
"You rude cunt!"
"Don't shout at her, she might be very shy."
Tanya processed the idea for a minute. "Hello. Are you very shy?"
Maureen tugged at her sleeve. "Don't, now, Tanya. Leave it, eh?"
"It's a shame if she is shy. She'll get lonely. You have to wake your own fun, ya fat mug, ye."
The bus into town pulled up out of nowhere. Tanya got on and showed her pass to the driver, explaining that she got a pass because she didn't keep well. The driver said he could see that and she was to go and sit down. The lady from the bus stop declined the offer when Maureen stepped back to let her on first. She waited until they were seated and chose a place as far away from Tanya as possible.
Tanya spotted the lady as the bus pulled away. "She's her from the bus stop."
"Aye, right enough, Suicide."
"Hello!"
"Aye, leave it now, Tanya. You've already said hello."
"Have I?"
"Aye."
"Sorry!"
The lady looked out of the window, her neck stiff with alarm. Tanya arranged herself next to Maureen, straightening the rumples out of the gold lame top, pulling it over her flat breastbone and down over the large breasts sitting on the roll of her belly. She scratched at some food stuck on the front.
"I like your top, Suicide. Where did you get it?"
"In a shop. Douglas is dead," she said.
"I know."
"His mum is an MP."
"MEP."
"Yes, and I couldn't see him."
"When you went for your appointment?"
"Yes. He was gone."
"What time is your appointment?"
"Tuesday at eleven, Tuesday at eleven, new time, try to remember"
"What time was it last week?"
"It's always the same because I can't remember."
"Yeah, I know, but what was the old time, before the new time?"
"Wednesday at one, Wednesday at one"
"So you didn't get to see him last week, then?"
"Yes. The police said it was because he was dead. I was there for ages because Douglas didn't come."
"That's a shame, Tanya."
"My neighbors banged on the wall all weekend and I needed to tell him that."
"That's a shame. Did you get to tell someone?"
"I told the police. They don't listen. They asked me about Douglas but they don't listen."
"How don't they listen?"
"They just don't. They think I'm daft. He said thank you but I saw him laughing at me. He had a mustache."
"I know that policeman. He was rude to me too."
"Yes. I don't like him… My pal seen him."
"Your pal saw the man with the mustache?"
"No. She seen him. She seen him when he was dead."
"She saw Douglas?"
Tanya nodded frantically.
"When he was dead?"
"Aye," said Tanya. "Then."
"Was he a ghost?"
Tanya looked at her askance. "There's no such thing as ghosts."
"No, sorry, you're right. There's no such thing."
"There's no ghosts. Only on the telly."
"How did she see him when he was dead, then?"
"Eh?"
"Your friend who saw him, how did she see him?"
Tanya looked at her as if she was daft. "With her eyes."
"He was standing in front of her?"
Tanya opened her eyes wide and stuck out her lower jaw at Maureen, angry at being asked so many pointless questions. "He was standing in front of her."
"When he was dead?"
"Aye, when he was dead."
Maureen was still confused. "I'm sorry, Tanya, I don't understand."
"He was dead and she seen him."
"When?"
"When they asked me about-"
"No, when did she see him?"
"When he couldn't see me because he was dead."
"Wednesday at one?"
"Wednesday at one"
"What's the name of your friend, Tanya, the friend who saw Douglas?"
"Siobhain. I meet her at the day center. She's fat now too."
"What's her surname?"
"Why are you asking me that?"
"I thought I knew her."
"Oh."
"Do you know Siobhain's surname?"
"McCloud."
Maureen wrote the name on the back of her bus ticket. "Is that the day center in Dennistoun?"
"Yes."
"Does Siobhain go there a lot?"
Suicide snorted. "She practically lives there!"
On the way into the town Tanya made rash comments about the other passengers at the top of her voice. Not a soul looked back at her. She told Maureen a complicated story about an Alsatian on top of her telly that smashed. Maureen thought she was describing a hallucination until she realized that the Alsatian was a china ornament. When they got off the bus Maureen took her to a fancy-goods shop and bought her a replacement. "That's a better one," bawled Tanya at a frightened man in the shop. "That's got a chain on it."