Before I Saw You(25)

Just as he was about to open his mouth and form some sort of apology, he heard something land by the side of his bed. When he looked down he saw, just within reaching distance, a pillow pushed under the gap between the curtain and the floor.

‘Just in case you had some more screaming to do.’ Her voice was gentle and just loud enough for him to hear.

‘Thanks. I kind of shot myself in my only foot by throwing mine, didn’t I?’

‘Yeah. I was going to get it for you, but then I realized I don’t like you that much.’

‘But you like me enough to give me your only pillow? And to talk to me again!’

Aha. He’d got her.

‘Don’t get too excited. I actually have three spare. I think the nurses pitied me and decided to express their sympathy through extra bedding. Plus, I felt sorry for you.’

‘Holy shit. And I thought I was liked around here. They won’t even give me an extra chocolate pudding, let alone pillows!’

‘You’re clearly not hurt badly enough. It doesn’t pay to be liked, Alfie, it pays to be injured.’

Even though he knew she was joking, he didn’t really know how to respond to that. He knew she was hurt badly, but the extent of her injuries was a mystery to him. Before he had time to formulate an adequate reply, she floored him with a question.

‘Are you OK after what happened earlier? I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.’

He could almost feel her wince in anticipation of his response.

‘Oh. Yeah. I mean, I thought I was fine, but I guess if you ask that abused pillow I’ve left for dead over there, apparently I’m not.’

She laughed. A shy half-laugh. He wondered if she ever allowed herself to laugh fully, or was it always a little held back and contained?

‘We’ve interviewed the victim and they are going to be pressing charges, sir. You want to tell us your side of the story?’

He knew she was just playing but, as the darkness fell around them thick as velvet, he felt a strange urge to tell her things. The feelings and thoughts he’d kept buried deep down were suddenly clamouring to be heard. He wanted to share it all with her. Wanted to let her peek inside his head, even just for a moment.

‘Well, officer, I’ll keep this brief as I know you’re busy: my girlfriend of three years left me a week after my accident because she couldn’t deal with what happened. Apparently it was too difficult for her. So, not only did I have my leg amputated, not only did the wound swell, burst and then become infected, not only did I nearly die from the sepsis, but I was also left heartbroken. Please feel free to cry for me now if you wish.’

He realized this was the first time he had ever really talked about this with anyone. He wasn’t ready to let her see the full extent of his heartache yet, but there was still a small relief in speaking about it. Everyone had been so concerned about upsetting him that they had either chosen to ignore the situation or they would tentatively skirt around the issue, keeping to the very edges of the subject at all times. They had been so focused on healing his physical injury that the pain from his heart was left for him to deal with, in secret and out of sight.

‘Alfie, what is wrong with you?’ Wow, he was not expecting that. Sure, he hadn’t given her the full emotional breakdown of events, but he was expecting at least a little bit of sympathy. ‘Why would you still ask after her when she acted like that? You’re too nice for your own good. I know you say you loved her, but to be frank, she sounds like a selfish idiot to me.’

He wasn’t expecting that either. No one had ever been so direct with him before.

‘Well now, officer, that’s no way to speak to one of your suspects, no matter how heinous their crime.’

‘Alfie, are you ever serious? Just for one moment.’

Twice now she’d caught him off guard with her questions. Something was making her bold tonight and he realized he was enjoying it.

‘No one wants serious, Alice. The world is full of shit as it is – look around you, for Christ’s sake! Why make it harder for yourself and everyone else by adding to it?’

He heard the flicker of resistance in her tone.

‘What, so we all have to go around pretending nothing hurts? Pretending that everything is fantastic!’

‘No, but what’s the point of being miserable all the time? People don’t like miserable.’

‘So you want to pretend to be happy for other people? To get friends? Popularity? At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what other people think of you if you’re cut up and bleeding on the inside.’

She was coming at him hard now, taking no prisoners with her words. Surely she couldn’t know that she was hitting him in the places that hurt most. Was she intentionally trying to tear down the defences he’d spent so many years meticulously building?

Maybe he said what he said next because he was tired. Maybe it was because he’d forgotten to close the door on his emotions from earlier. Maybe he was just being spiteful.

‘And clearly being so serious gets you a total of fuck-all visitors when you’re at death’s door.’ His hand instinctively covered his mouth in a pathetic attempt to take back the poison he’d just spat out at her.

Silence.

He didn’t know what he could say to make anything good again. He just lay there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.