by Becky Cairns
I get nothing but the steady bleep from the monitors, a constant reminder of the vulnerable state he is in, all at the hands of my fiancé, William. I still can’t get to grips with all that has been said. It’s too much to process; my fragile mind can’t cope, not right now. All I see is Gareth and the want, the need for him to recover.
The steady rhythmic sound of the monitor and the scuffling of nurses in the corridor blend into a hypnotic lullaby and I feel myself succumbing to its magic. My eventful days have finally caught up to me.
My eyelids become heavy.
Head starts to droop.
Shoulders slacken.
Chest sinks into the soft bedding.
My cheek glides against Gareth’s unresponsive fingertips as the remnants of consciousness drips away.
I can’t see.
My hands guide my way through the blackness surrounding me. Every shaky step is another move into the unknown. I could be walking to my death for all I know, but that thought doesn’t stop me from searching. Always searching, never finding.
The air is stifling. I taste smoke on the tip of my tongue as I breathe in through my mouth. I’m racked with a coughing fit as it hits the back of my throat.
Gasping.
Clutching at my chest.
Suffocating.
‘Leave me.’
I spin around in the direction of the hauntingly familiar voice. ‘Who’s there?’
‘Leave me,’ it says again, but this time closer.
I start shuffling backwards, my head whipping around in all sorts of direction, struggling to see through the thickness of the pitch black room.
‘I can’t. I can never leave you!’ I find myself saying, but to who? Deep down I know but can’t put a name to them. It’s confusing, just one big mess.
‘You must leave. Stay away from me. I’m no good to you; I’m no good to anyone anymore. Runaway.’
‘I can’t. I can’t. I…I…lo…’
‘I’m leaving you.’
Panicky I reply, ‘I love you!’
Silence feels the darkness. My skin turns cold and I find it difficult to breathe. The blood that runs through my veins flows rapidly with every beat of the heart, trying to find an escape but losing the battle. I am trapped within myself if that is even possible. My eyes have been opened to a whole other world, nowadays anything can be possible.
‘I don’t love you,’ the deep timbre of his voice breaks my heart in two. The admission shatters my world and I crumble to the floor. My beating organ is ripped from my chest leaving me empty inside. Silent tears fall from my eyes as the man I’ve come to love causes bittersweet loneliness to settle like the morning dew.
‘You do not need me, you do not want me. You need your family. You want the one thing you thought you could never have. You are not alone. You will never be alone again.’
‘But I do want you and I do need you…’
‘Goodbye.’
‘No!’ I scream and leap forward in my last defying act to reach for him. To keep him here with me, however, all I come in contact with is the breath of thin air. With gravity as my enemy I continuously fall. I try to grab on to something, anything but there is nothing there to hold on to. There is nothing to help me.
Where am I?
Where am I going?
Where will I finish?
But just as these thoughts are formed I come crashing down to the hard reality of truth and find myself lying in a pool of warm, sticky substance, which is covering me from head to toe. Nothing is left untouched.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t move.
I can’t see.
‘Lexi.’
It can’t be!
A light touch to my shoulder startles me from my doze, causing me to jolt in reflex. Groggily I painstakingly open my eyes and turn to see the nurse from before. Nurse Harding as I recall.
‘Sorry to wake you Mrs Brown, but I have two police officers to see you.’
Peering over her shoulder I see two men dressed smartly in their police uniforms waiting at the door. One is clearly higher in rank and much older, probably in his early fifties with speckled grey hair and a serious demeanour filled with knowledge and worldly experience. The young man by his side, pad and pen at the ready, can’t me much older than twenty-five, what with his light, fluffy brown hair, crystal blue eyes, eager and innocent. This young lad is still learning.
‘Oh, right. Thank you Nurse Harding.’
‘You may come in gentleman, but don’t tire her out with a load of questions. She’s been through a lot already.’ She turns back to me saying, ‘I’ll be back later,’ before leaving me in the hands of the two coppers.
‘We’ll be as quick as possible Mrs Brown,’ the older comments. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector West and this is Detective Sergeant Peters.’
‘Hello.’
‘This may be hard for you, so take your time,’ says Peters, clicking his pen and poising it over the crisp sheet of paper, ready to begin. ‘In your own words, can you tell me the events of what happened?’
‘Well,’ time for the lies. ‘I didn’t actually witness what happened. I only came across him when I went out looking for him.’
‘And why were you looking for him, Mrs Brown?’ Peters continues.
‘We had a huge row, which ended with him storming out of the house. Once I calmed down I went to search for him.’ You’re doing well Alex, but watch your step. Keep it nice and simple. ‘Half an hour later, I found him slumped against a wall, with blood pouring from his side. At first I didn’t know what to do. I simply stood there feeling helpless, but eventually I managed to gather my wits enough to phone for an ambulance.’
‘What made you decide to venture into that part of town? A good looking, vulnerable woman, such as yourself, in a dangerous area, weren’t you scared something would happen to you?’
My eyes harden and I snap, ‘What are you trying to insinuate DS Peters?’
‘Yes Sergeant,’ West steps in. ‘What are you implying? I kindly remind you to keep to just asking the questions. We are here to find out what happened, not accuse the witness.’ Turning back to face me he says, ‘Sorry Miss, excuse my Sergeant. He’s young and still learning. Do carry on.’
‘As I was saying,’ here I glare at the accuser. ‘I found my husband slumped in a seedy part of London. It’s normally a place I wouldn’t dare venture, however, I know my husband and he likes to visit The Hag pub, so it was my first port of call. Thank God I made the right decision. I don’t want to think what may have happened if I didn’t find him when I did. The doctor said he was only a few minutes away from death. The ambulance got to him in time.’
Tears spring to my eyes.
‘I know this is tough,’ West says. ‘But I’m afraid we have to ask you a couple more questions.’
‘T-that’s okay officer. Please, continue.’
‘When you arrived, did you see anyone flee the scene?’ West carries on with the questioning while Peters is left to scribble down the information on his trusty little notebook.
‘No. All I saw were a few drunken people milling around outside the pub, apart from that, no one.’
‘Do you know what happened? Whether he was shot accidentally or intently?’
‘No, sorry, I have no idea. I never saw what happened, all I heard was a bang and that’s when I began running in the direction it came from. That’s when I came across my husband lying in pool of his own blood.’
‘Does your husband have any enemies?’
‘None that I’m aware of. He’s a kind, decent, loyal man with not a single bad word to say against anyone. I’m sorry I can’t be of any more help.’
‘That’s alright Mrs Brown. This will do for now. We will come back later when your husband is awake and get his side of events. He may have further information that will help with our investigation. In the meantime, get plenty of rest and…’
‘I do
have one more question Sir,’ the arrogant, young man pipes in.
‘Yes, Sergeant,’ the senior officer replies tersely.
‘It’s in regards to the explosion that was reported not too long after an ambulance was called for this man. I was wondering whether Mrs Brown knew anything about how the explosion was caused.’
Shit.
‘Mrs Brown?’ prompts DCI West.
‘I-I don’t know what had caused it, but yes, there was an explosion in a flat above from where I found my husband.’
‘And why didn’t you report it?’ asks West.
‘Well I was rather preoccupied with fact that my husband was dying on the pavement. I’m sorry I didn’t report the incident but I thought my husband’s life was of greater priority. Like you said, someone did end up reporting it so now it’s sorted.’
‘Is it though,’ jumps in Peters.
‘And what do you mean by that?’
‘Well, it’s a bit of a coincidence that…’
‘Yes, and that is all it is, a coincidence. It could have been a leaking gas pipe or an arson attack, but it had nothing to do with me.’ There’s something not quite right about this policeman. He knows something more and if his constant flickering of his eyes towards Gareth is anything to go by, I have a hunch it could be about him. Could he know who Gareth really is? Must watch what I say.
‘If you say so.’
‘Now what are you…’
‘That’s enough!’ says West. ‘We are getting nowhere. Thank you Mrs Brown for your time, we will come back later when your husband wakes. Hope he gets better soon.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Goodnight,’ and he turns and walks out of the room leaving me alone with Peters.
‘Yes?’ I ask staring up into his penetrating eyes. A shiver runs down my back. Yes, there is something not quite right here. I don’t trust him one bit.
Gazing about the room, he then takes a step towards me, bends down and whispers, ‘He can’t hide forever Alex. There are only so many times Gareth can run before he is captured, and mark my words, I will capture him.’
‘Peters. This way, now,’ DCI West peaks around the corner.
Turning his head towards the voice Peters reply’s, ‘Coming Sir,’ before turning back to me. ‘Good evening Mrs Brown. I hope your husband has a swift recovery.’ With that he turns and is gone.
Blimey! What was that about?
‘You sure like your enemies Gareth. There appears to be one everywhere I turn.’ I rub my hands over my tired face. ‘What am I to do?’ I whisper to my unconscious companion. ‘I’ve just lied to the police! Come on Gareth wake up. I need you. I can’t do this alone. I’m way out of my depth here. I…’ hearing footsteps drawing closer I stop talking.
‘How are we doing Mrs Brown?’ Phew, it’s just Nurse Harding. ‘Just come to check up on the invalid. Did you manage to get some decent sleep earlier?’
‘Well, it wasn’t exactly undisturbed. I had a nightmare.’
‘That’s understandable. Finding your husband in such a state was a shock to your system. Hopefully everything will be better once he wakes up.’
‘Thank you.’ She moves from the monitor to the clipboard at the bottom of the bed. ‘How’s he doing?’
‘He’s doing fine, Mrs Brown. He’s got a strong heartbeat and his vitals are in good working order. He’s definitely a fighter.’ Did you hear that Gareth? You’re going to make it. You’re going to be okay. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I think you could do with some proper rest, my dear.’
‘I can’t leave. Don’t want him out of my sight even for one…’
‘I know it’s hard, but it’s for the best. At least just go home for a shower and some clean clothes. It will do you good. I’ll contact you if there’s any change.’
After a bit more persuading, I finally give in to her suggestion, though they sounded more like demands. After handing over a contact number I slowly make my way out of the hospital, but I do not get far before my vision blurs and I collapse to the floor.
‘Mrs Brown! Are you okay?’ Nurse Harding rushes to my side and helps me to a chair. ‘What happened?’
‘I’m not sure. I just came over all…weak.’ What’s happening to me now? I felt fine a minute ago. Tired, but fine nonetheless.
‘Have you experienced any other dizzy spells?’
‘No, this is the first.’
‘Been sick or felt queasy recently?’
‘Not really, no, wh…’ Wait a minute! ‘You’re not suggesting what I think you are, are you?’
‘It could be a possibility. Is there any chance you could be…’
‘But it could also be a possibility that I fainted due to delayed shock or lack of sugar. It may also have something to do with tiredness and the fact I can’t remember when I last ate.’
‘Yes, they are other high possibilities, but I could take a test to…’
‘No, no,’ I stand. ‘No tests. I’m going to go home now, take a shower, get some rest, eat something and come back later, refreshed.’
‘If you’re sure…’
‘Yes. Yes I am sure. Thank you Nurse Harding, I know you mean well, but, no tests, please.’
‘Okay. If you ever change your mind you know where to find me.’
‘Thank you. I’ll see you later,’ and without another word I turn and continue my trek out of this hospital as fast as my legs can carry me.
Yes, I fainted due to lack of sugar concentration. I haven’t eaten for a while so that’s another factor. I’m tired, there’s another. And it could very likely be delayed shock! After all it’s not every day I see a man’s life drain away before my very eyes!
As I continue down the corridor my mind wanders back to Detective Sargent Peters.
The look in his eyes as he stared at me - pure evil. He had a hidden agenda that was for sure. Maybe he is a corrupt officer; there must be some still around, even now. But what could he have against Gareth apart from the obvious. To finally capture the uncapturable would be an honour to anyone, glory hunting. Better watch out for him, he means trouble.
Before I realise it, I’ve made it to the entrance of the hospital. The moon is high in the sky and the stars are twinkling like diamonds bringing richness to the chaos below. For once there is not a cloud to be seen. It’s like a breath of fresh air to see beauty at a time like this.
For a few seconds my troubles are shoved to the back of my mind and I embrace the moment. The crisp, cool night’s air gives life to my deflated lungs and revives my taut skin. My tired limbs ache and my mouth is dry, but I feel…happy. How is this?
However, it isn’t long before the dried blood on my top itches my skin and the honking horns and sirens invade my thoughts, bringing me back to where I am.
Hailing a taxi, I make my way back to my haven I used to treasure, but now only fear. My home is no longer that, but has become my unsafe haven.
Grabbing the spare key I always hide behind the picture hanging in the hallway, I shakily make my way to the daunting door. Everything screams not to go in, but I have to. I need to. One thing I’ve learnt on this twisted journey is that I’m not one to back away from danger. Instead, I appear to embrace it, hit it head on and sod the consequences.
Walking cautiously through the door I become awash with everything that this home came to represent, but it’s no longer a place for living. It has been tainted by the truth and lies that have been hovering in the air like a bad smell over the past few years.
Right in front of me is the sofa, our sofa. It was the last time I saw Will as I believed him to be. The kind-hearted man I grew to love. That sofa holds many memories. It was the first time we made love in this apartment. It was the first time he told me he loved me. It was the time I told him about the note - the note that changed my life.
Looking around the room I see various portraits of William and me, as a loving couple that only had eyes for each other, and some with us pulling fu
nny faces. There’s one of Will on his own in black and white, ever the poser. That’s my favourite. He’s in his black wool jumper, which is extremely cosy and enhances his brown eyes. On his legs he’s wearing his navy blue denim jeans. Tight fitting, always showed off his firm buttocks. The picture was taken on one of our walks around the park across the road. It was a few days before Christmas. The sun was shining and the air was fresh.
A sad smile slides onto my face as I go to pick up the picture, memories flash across my mind like a film reel. This is who William is. This is who he truly is, not some murdering monster.
‘Where did it all go wrong William? What happened to us? What happened to you?’
As I replace the picture, my eyes catch sight of his charcoal suit jacket draped over the edge of an armchair. Without any forewarning, my feet seem to move on their own accord and I find myself heading in that direction.
The familiar fabric slips through my fingers as I reach to pick up the jacket. The warmth is still there and I’m unexpectedly overcome with a deep unmoving sadness, as if the empty hole that I thought was filled, returns.
His smell flitters around the room. Bringing the jacket into proximity with my face I inhale the rich aroma that I once found comforting and a wave of forgotten emotions flood my body. His presence lingers and won’t leave me alone. My heart is still captivated, leaving wounds open and unable to heal. William still beats within my breast. I hear the muscular organ crying out to be held by his muscular arms. I wish it would all disappear; the pain is too much to bear.
‘What have you done to me? What have either of you done to me?’
I’m trapped in emotions I can’t explain. There’s an internal battle going on inside and I’m powerless to stop it! I just want out! I want out of all of this shit my life has been turned into! There is only so much I can repress before it all comes streaming out.
I can never go back to the life I had with William. It’s hard to admit this but I know that every time I gaze into those brooding brown orbs of his, all I’ll see staring back is my brother’s lifeless face. Every time his hands would caress my skin, my only thought would be of them covered in the blood of his victims. I know a part of me will love him, will always love him, but we can never be. I will never be able to erase him from my mind, but at the same time, I will never be able to face him again. Too much has happened. There is no hiding the truth once it has leaked.