Before I Saw You(31)
‘Eurgh, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. And in answer to your very generic but specific question, yes and no. I mean, people here obviously know – the nurses do the obligatory “Are you OK?” every time they happen, plus Sharon has the hearing of a bat so there’s no fooling her. I spoke to the doctors about it briefly when they put me on antidepressants, and I’ve mentioned it in passing to my mum. But no, I haven’t spoken to anyone about them properly. People have tried to encourage me to, but they’re bad enough to experience when I’m asleep, let alone recounting them to a stranger.’
Another stab of guilt. If Alice had been able to remember being in her accident, if she was repeatedly taken back to the time when she was almost burnt alive, then she was sure she wouldn’t want to be regaling an audience with the tale either.
This is why you don’t have more than one goddam friend any more: because you have the emotional capacity of a piece of wood.
‘I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. I didn’t even think.’
‘No, it’s fine. Unless you say sorry again and then it will be anything but fine, OK? I’ve kind of wanted to talk to you about it since the first night you pretended not to be woken up by me. You may be many things, but you are no actress.’
‘Oh, well, fuck you. I happen to have had a budding theatrical career before the whole face melting thing happened.’
‘I don’t think it’s the face melting, as you so beautifully put it, that would be the stumbling block – more like your insane stubbornness. There is no one on this earth who would be capable of giving you direction.’
She couldn’t argue with him. Digging her heels in and sticking to her guns was just what she did.
‘I’ll give you that one, but only because challenging you would confirm your accusation.’
‘You really are something else, Alice. I don’t quite know what yet, but you’re definitely something. Give me time, I’ll work you out sooner or later.’
The affection that had been sitting in her chest surged again, but this time she felt like his eyes were on her. It was suddenly too intimate, way too personal, and she had to deflect.
‘So … do you want to talk about them? The dreams, I mean.’
She heard him rearranging himself in bed and imagined him sitting up a little straighter.
‘Most of the time it’s exactly the same: I just relive the accident. I literally go through everything that happened that night, over and over again. Sometimes there are differences, small nuances that change, but mostly it’s a detailed replay.’
She was so scared of saying the wrong thing or pushing too hard. Every word felt like a precarious step on a very thin tightrope.
‘Do you mind me asking what happened?’
She’d allowed her curiosity to get the better of her again.
Silence.
God, this is excruciating.
She had to fill the gap quickly. ‘You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.’
No wonder Alfie used to just talk at her all the time. Filling the space with something felt much better than just sitting in the silent vacuum.
‘I do want to. I really do. I guess it’s just harder than I thought.’
He took a deep breath and then started his story.
26
Alfie
For so long he’d wanted to find someone he could open up to. Someone he could talk to without feeling uncomfortable or awkward. Now, at last, someone was asking and he couldn’t find one single word to answer. The doctors had always put him on edge. He couldn’t work out if they found the act of witnessing his grief awkward, or whether they were immune to the pain after hearing thousands of similar stories, but either way he found talking to them impossible. There was no eye contact, just endless scribbled notes and the occasional ‘How did that make you feel?’
So, like them, he’d simply shut down. The regular mental health support sessions continued, but the degree to which Alfie opened up grew smaller and smaller over time. In their minds, the flashbacks had subsided and therefore no more questions were asked. In reality, they were simply being buried deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind.
As he lay there searching in the dark for a starting point, it struck him how vulnerable he felt, even though Alice couldn’t see him.
‘We’d been at a friend’s wedding just outside London. We thought we’d be clever and save money by driving home that night – it made sense as we were only a couple of hours away. Ciarán knew he was driving so he didn’t drink.’
The pain throbbed at the back of his throat.
‘He would never do that to us. Ever.’
The words came out more forcefully than he intended but she had to know the type of guy Ciarán was. He took a deep breath and let the anger subside.
‘I was so tired I was pretty much asleep the moment I got in the back of the car. I remember waking up to the two idiots arguing over what song to play next. Ross was insisting on Ariana Grande for the fifteenth time – it was his new girlfriend’s favourite song, apparently – and Ciarán just kept switching the track back. “It’s my phone,” Ciarán kept saying. “But it’s my turn to choose,” Ross kept whining. They were going at each other like this for ages, back and forth, over and over. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with them because I knew this would go on for the rest of the journey. They are – were – both stubborn bastards.’