ABSTRACT
On the 25-minute journey to the psychiatric hospital, I actually felt excited! I doubt if this was how Nick was feeling. I chatted incessantly about how I would be fine after a couple of days and that by Christmas, which was only six days away, all would be well. The hospital was a huge old Victorian asylum which had been used as a war hospital and subsequently as a psychiatric hospital for the area. It could be seen for miles due to its distinctive tower in the centre and had many two- and three-storey wings for wards. At its prime it was a huge community and had its own chapel, gardens and many outbuildings and facilities. In recent years, with the introduction of care in the community, its wards were now mainly empty and in disrepair as its total closure and demolition were imminent during the next few months. Now the site is an executive home residential area. It was in the same village where Nick had grown up and where his family still lived. As a child he had regularly played in the grounds and even cycled around the vast corridors on his bicycle! Now he was bringing his wife to be admitted.
