by West, Jade
“Very honoured I could help,” I said.
I was staring at the postcard while she stared at me. I could feel it. That all out beam of love in her eyes.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “Really, Logan. Just when I think it would be impossible to be more proud of you, there’s another day that makes me even more honoured to be your mum.”
“Stop it,” I said. “Don’t get fatalistic after an elephant meet up, please. I hope there are plenty more days to make you proud.”
“Let me get some sleep, then,” she laughed.
I sorted out the last of her meds and her hot water bottle, and settled her down for the night, just like usual. Only it wasn’t like usual. Not tonight.
Tonight, I was both happy and sad in tandem. Two people both in tandem. I was still that scared little boy, caged deep inside the man. So deep I barely felt him, not anymore. Not unless he poked his face right up at me, eyes wide and scared.
Like he did that night – he poked his face right up at me, at my mother’s bedside while she struggled to find her breaths.
But no.
I had no time for the boy inside. I never did.
I cast him aside, just like usual.
I pulled out a pen from my inside pocket and ticked off the item on her list on my way out, and then I left my mum to dreamland, with Wellington the elephant etched onto her heart.
I headed back through to my own bedroom, and pushed the scared little boy even deeper, so deep I could almost believe he was gone. Almost.
Oh, how I wished he was gone.
I needed him to be.
So, I thought about the sweet little whirlwind from the train, of the shimmer of gold in her hair and the cute little smile as she said hello, until I finally fell asleep. That scared little boy banished to the dark, callous pits of my memories.
Just like usual.
12
Chloe
I’d been trying to give my absolute all to work, learning everything I could before I was due to switch over and shadow Gina Salzaki on Franklin Ward, but one single morning without the stranger on the train was enough to drive me insane.
I was petrified I’d never see him again, and it was crazy how much that scared me, since I didn’t even know his name.
My whole life was in its new mad routine, and I’d thought that was safe enough. I was racing to the train every morning and staying up late every night. I was slipping my hand down between my legs in bed, just as soon as Liam had rolled over and gone to sleep.
I just figured the stranger would always be there, on that journey every morning.
I was thinking of him every time I had a spare second. I thought about his dark eyes, and his velvety voice, and his smile, and his bookshelf and how many of the same novels we might have. But that was nothing compared to just how much I was thinking about him on that one scary day he was gone.
Stupid.
I was a stupid, crazy idiot.
I should be thinking about nothing other than work. It was my career. My shot at making a difference and doing what I really wanted. I should be worried about a billion other things at the hospital more than some random guy I didn’t know. Franklin Ward was scaring me, and it should be WAY worse than a morning train journey.
People said I’d find it hard in there. Vickie pulled a face every time Dr Hall was mentioned in conversation.
“Amazing, but… serious.”
She always left the same pause between words and always had the same weird half smile on her face.
It was Indy, the nurse I teamed up with on lunchtime shift on that one crazy day, that tried to get me chatting about the Franklin Ward nerves some more. She pulled me into the corridor between consulting rooms for yet another round of gossip, when all I was thinking about was the train.
The train.
The train.
Where was the stranger on the train, universe?
WHERE WAS HE?
“I’ve heard you’re off to replace Gina Salzaki,” she said. “Dr Hall is hot but… weird.”
That same pause, and that same half smile from a different mouth.
“I’ve heard that,” I said. “Everyone says so.”
“You’ve seen him around? You’d probably recognise him, he looks great in a suit, and his eyes are… serious… and his hair is… obvious…”
I’d heard about this. I’d heard plenty, but I was done with it. It was always the same loop of stuff, over and over, about how great he is, and how hot he is, but how weird.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Always the same. Always.
And I got it. I really got it. I thought it was great. But still, that loop of stuff didn’t mean crap to me that day.
The train, the train, the traaaaaaaaaaaaaaain!
I was a grouch that night when I got home. I ignored the books on my shelf and sat next to Liam on the sofa, and I tried to feel something. I tried to remember how it felt when I loved him with all of my heart, every little piece of it.
But I couldn’t.
It wasn’t there.
I lay in bed, next to him fast asleep, and I tried to imagine feeling that way about him. I tried to imagine wanting him to touch me, the way I’d always wanted him to touch me.
But I couldn’t.
It wasn’t there.
There was something else.
Something that should never be.
Something that sent my fingers wandering between my legs.
My body was desperate for my own touch. It was too much to ignore. I was gentle, but fierce, both at once. Tight little flicks on just the right spot to quicken my breaths, until they were tight little rasps to match. And it shouldn’t be him. It shouldn’t be the stranger on the train I was thinking about. But I couldn’t stop.
I tried to be quiet and still. I tried to leave Liam asleep next to me.
It didn’t work.
I was lost in my own motion when he rolled to face me. I tried to pull my hand away from myself but he was already there, pressing his fingers on top of mine.
“Kept that quiet, babe,” he whispered, and his voice was a dry grunt.
He pushed my fingers away, and his touches were so much rougher. I tried to wriggle into the spot, but he was always just out of place, so I told myself it felt great. That it was driving me wild. That it was a tease… yeah… a tease.
I needed to feel this. I needed to feel the love for Liam that used to give me tingles. I needed to remember that he was the one for me. The one for the rest of my life. Chloe and Liam forever.
I tried.
I rolled into him and held him close when he pressed his mouth to mine. I searched for the passion in his kiss to spur mine on, but it wasn’t there to be felt. His attention was all on his dick and grinding it up against me, and in a flash his hand moved away from me and gave up his touches. He climbed up on top, and worked his hips against mine, and again, I tried to wriggle to find the spot, but no sooner had I done that than he wriggled away from mine to find his own.
He thrust inside in one. I tried to be ready.
He stopped kissing me and breathed against my neck. He told me how hot I was, and how good it felt, and I wanted to feel the same.
I raised my legs and wrapped them around him, and found the groove along with him, but I didn’t feel it. No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t feel it.
Thrusts, and hot breaths, and grunts.
I pictured the old times, when I was back from uni. When I was so desperate to get my hands on him that I’d rush up the moment I saw him and kiss him as hard as I could. And that was enough. That was enough to feel the passion in the physical, even when my own fingers had to work their rhythm along with his.
The passion in the physical was gone, and it was like that moment in The Labyrinth, when Sarah says the magic line, and you know then that the Goblin King is done, and even though you want to marry the Goblin King yourself, you still know that Sarah is done with him and utters the you have no power
over me statement with that moment of mad realisation on her face. That’s what it was for me, right there in bed with Liam.
You have no power over me.
I’m sure I had an open mouth with the shock, and my breath caught in my throat. I was glad that I hadn’t let him have lights on for years, not wanting to show him my imperfections, because he’d have seen that moment. He’d have seen it and been wide open eyed himself.
Instead he grunted his grunts, and bucked his hips harder, and slammed me against the mattress until he came.
I got this weird choke of sadness in my throat, because it was a horrible feeling – knowing in one striking moment that your dreams of spending the rest of your life with someone have been shrivelling to nothing. You’ve just been too scared to face it.
He rolled off with a thanks, babe, and I knew then that it’d been shrivelling to nothing for him too.
He slept. I didn’t. Well, barely anyway. I was caught up in the horror of accepting it – that me and Liam were really through.
I guess he had a lot to do with that – the stranger on the train. Even though I knew nothing about him, it was that tickly rush every time I’d seen his face that had been the trigger. To knowing there was more out there in the world I wanted to feel with someone. So much more than I’d ever felt.
Thanks, romance novels, for your contributary part in that.
The next morning I was petrified all over again as I made my way through that train carriage, scared shitless that the stranger wouldn’t be there. I was feeling this crazy horrible flutter about how that was it, I was doomed, even though I’m usually the most optimistic person on the planet, and always have been.
I’d been telling myself, as I galloped my way towards the station, that it was okay if he was gone, and if I never saw him again, because my life was busy and full, right?
Right?
It wouldn’t matter if I never saw a stranger again that I didn’t know, right?
Right?
I was lying to myself. It may have been stupid, and based on nothing at all, but I was lying to myself.
It really would matter if I never saw that stranger again that I didn’t know.
So, it was just as well that he was sitting there on the train that morning – a whole day and night after driving myself crazy by stewing it over and over and over.
It floored me, for real. Even after one little day, it knocked me sideways with this crazy rush of relief, like the whole train lit up around me, just to see him sitting there.
Holy fuck, thank you, universe! Thank you! I’ll owe you for the rest of my whole damn life!
He was sitting in the same spot, and had his grey suit on with a dark burgundy tie, and he looked great – his beard its usual pattern and his salt and pepper hair flicked in just the same spot.
My heart was racing harder than I’d ever felt it, and my fingers wouldn’t stay still they were shaking so hard.
“Hello,” I said, and it was stupid. It sounded stupid. A stupid word from a mouth that must have been grinning harder than the Cheshire cat in a catnip shop.
“Hello,” the stranger said, and his voice was the same, but his smile was brighter than before. Just a tiny fraction brighter.
He held up his cover.
Fahrenheit 451.
I held up mine. Black Beauty.
This time he said something. He really said something.
“Horses owe a serious karmic debt to Anna Sewell.”
My answer was doofus, I could barely get my words out.
“They sure do.”
God, universe. Why am I such a moron?
Three stupid words.
All the things I’d imagined saying to that man, in that spot, and I said those three stupid words when I got my first real chance to say something good.
Just like that, the chance was gone. He turned his attention back to his novel and the silence returned.
I didn’t know what to do. Black Beauty was a blur of words on a blur of pages, and I wanted so much more.
That’s when I knew it was crazy, but I couldn’t deny it to myself, not anymore.
Hello stranger just wouldn’t cut it. Not when I felt like this.
Eastworth and Newstone and Churchley zoomed past, and I barely even noticed them. There was only him. Sitting there. Flicking the pages of Fahrenheit 451.
And then it happened.
Harrow. The next station is Harrow.
No.
No.
NO!
I couldn’t do it. Not anymore.
I couldn’t walk away from that train and risk that pang all over again.
So, I waited. I paused, not knowing what I should do. I needed to rush to work, but I couldn’t. I stood up slowly and put Black Beauty under my arm, but I was dithering, stalled on the spot as he closed his novel and looked at me.
“Have a nice day, Chloe.”
Still, I waited, dithering. Hovering like a fool.
Until he put Fahrenheit 451 into his briefcase and got up from his seat, and I could hardly believe it, that this could be his stop too. But it was his stop. I moved down the aisle and he was right behind me, I could practically feel his presence.
I shot a glance at the train door and he gestured me to keep on going, a gentleman with that same polite smile on his face as I stepped off the train and onto the platform. But I couldn’t race off, not anymore. I just couldn’t do it.
I walked slowly. Every step, I felt like a clutz. And he followed.
He was behind me, and I could feel it, walking down the same streets as I was, only a few steps behind. I kept hanging back, keeping my footsteps so steady when they’d usually be a gallop.
Nothing about that morning felt steady, though. Not one single thing. My breaths were racing and my heart was too, and I so much wanted to turn around and ask him where he was going. Please, universe, I just want to know where he’s going.
But I didn’t need to.
The turning for Harrow District came up ahead, and he was still behind me. I started crossing the car park over to main reception, and he was still behind me.
Still behind me!
I held back. Finally, I held back, and he kept on walking, getting closer and closer.
I pretended to be fiddling with my bag until he came up next to me, and then I forced myself to take some more clumsy steps, until we reached the big double doors together, side by side.
He was as shocked as I was. I know he was as shocked as I was, I could see it all over his face.
He walked into reception, just as I did, and I knew it then, my heart knew it before my head.
Please, universe. Please, oh my God.
And the universe delivered.
I’d always believed in karma, and fate, and destiny, but never like this.
Never actually like this.
Dita Allen, the main receptionist, looked up as we stepped towards the reception hub, and she smiled. She smiled at him and held up a hand as he stepped on by.
“Good morning, Dr Hall,” she said.
13
Logan
I was no believer in anything beyond science and logic. I had no time for the fluffy bullshit of fate and destiny. But that moment – standing there in Harrow District reception hub and staring over at Chloe from the train – was enough to give me shivers.
She hovered on the spot, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, staring over at me so intently you could have struck her down with a feather. I felt it, too. You could have struck me down with the same damn one.
I tried to brush it aside – this ridiculous shiver of fate – tried to laugh it off as nothing, right then in my head. But it’s hard when you’re staring across at the girl who’s been driving you insane for weeks, and realising that she’s been heading to the same damn building that you have, day after day.
Our eyes were fixed, both of us staring hard across the hub, neither of us moving a muscle. It was me who ended the connection, shifting myself in position and holdi
ng up a hand to the girl on reception.
“Good morning, Dita,” I said.
It was like the spell had been broken as soon as I spoke, and I regretted it with a horrible little pang as soon as Chloe found her feet and backed away from me. She was back. The white rabbit, panicking and dashing all the way.
I watched her leave in the opposite direction to mine, down the eastern corridor, staying still on my feet until she was gone.
“Do you have any idea who that was?” I asked the receptionist.
She shrugged. “A nice girl, fresh to Kingsley, I think. Her name might be Chloe… she usually says hi.”
“A nurse?”
“Yeah, a trainee, I think.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Spell broken, I walked away. Except the spell wasn’t broken. My route up to Franklin felt strange with that pounding in my chest. Thump, thump, thump. A flush of some bizarre excitement I couldn’t contain.
There was no excitement due here, that’s what I told myself. So what if the girl from the train was a nurse at the same hospital I worked at? Plenty of people worked at the same hospital I did. Plenty of nurses worked at the same hospital I did. No huge coincidence.
So, why did it feel like one?
Why did those shivers keep coming?
I settled down into my shift, giving my attention to the people who needed it, supervising meds and advising on patients’ options. I summoned Gina and Romi for a consulting room catch up and talked through our outpatients schedule for the week.
So, why did those shivers keep coming?
It was when Wendy Briars arrived at Franklin, early in the afternoon, that those shivers rose up and got the best of me. My throat was dry when I listened to her speak through patients’ notes on a few of our most difficult cases. I couldn’t hold back the thump, thump, thump in my chest as I stared at the notes on her clipboard.
She was smiling, and thanking me for my help, and walking away when the blurt came from my throat.
“Wendy, just a second please.”
I stood like a fool as she turned around and headed back.
“Yes, Dr Hall?”
I cleared my throat. “The, um… there’s one of the nurses. A trainee, I think. Mousy hair, freckles. Quite a delicate little thing.”