Game On: If I wasn't her student, it would be game on.

by Daiko, SC

  She’s lying so still, but I can feel her spirit in the air between us. And her force, her essence, has not been lessened. She’s still my Beth and she’ll get through this. I fucking won’t allow myself to think otherwise.

  Four weeks go by, the swelling in Beth’s brain goes down, surgeons replace the bone they cut from her skull, but still she lies in a coma in that damn hospital. Sophie lets me visit when I can, but always together with her so as not to arouse suspicions about Beth’s and my relationship. Sophie has told her parents, and they won’t have anything to do with me… which pains me a lot.

  Mrs Jenkins has called on her old Spanish teacher, a woman in her sixties, to come out of retirement and substitute for Beth. I give the kids in my class a pep talk, tell them they gotta do their best for Miss Matthews, and they do. It’s not the same, nothing is the same without Beth, but I know she’d want me and everyone else to carry on.

  So… I study, play rugby, and allow myself to think about the future. I take Mam to the game between England and Wales in honour of Beth. She would want me to use the gift she gave me for Christmas. When she recovers, and there’s no doubt in my mind she will recover, I’ll go to university. And I want her there with me, now that I no longer need to protect Mam and Sara. If it takes more than a few months for Beth to get back to her old self, then so be it. I’ll work in the pub and save up for my tuition fees until she’s ready.

  As for Mr Davis and Mrs Jenkins and their fucking suspicions, no more has been said. They must realise Beth isn’t in a position to defend herself, and probably won’t be able to return to work for quite some time. If ever….

  Today, I’ve borrowed Mam’s car and have driven to Cardiff for my second visit of the week. I ride up to the second floor. Sophie is sitting by Beth’s bed. We’re allowed to visit with her for longer now. Beth’s sister always talks to her about her life and about the baby. She’s on maternity leave and is due next month. It will be hard for her to keep visiting her sister then; I just hope she’ll let me take over on my own. Beth’s parents are fucking lazy about seeing their daughter, and only manage the occasional visit.

  When I arrive, Sophie has a break and goes down to the cafeteria for a cup of tea. I pull up a chair by Beth’s bedside and reach for her hand. There’s usually no response, but, ¡joder! Am I imagining it? Her fingers squeeze mine and her eyes flutter open. “Paulo?” she manages to mutter around the feeding tube in her mouth. My heart nearly stops beating.

  I call the nurse, who pages a doctor. The tall Asian man checks the monitor and shines a pin-torch into her eyes. “Her pupils aren’t responding,” he says. “It may be that she was starting to emerge from the coma, but she’s slipped back again.” He gives me a sympathetic look. “It’s a positive sign, though. A step in the right direction. Where’s her sister?”

  “She’ll be back in a minute.” I pick up Beth’s hand again, and hold my breath for a response. Nothing. And why did she ask for Paulo? He’s been out of her life for fucking years. I shake my head; it’s just a slip-up... her brain playing tricks on her. Beth knows it’s me… she must know it’s me... I’m her soulmate.

  “Hey, princesa,” I say. “It’s Ryan, the one who loves you more than anyone else on earth. Can you feel how much I love you?” My eyes brim, and my voice is husky with unshed tears. “Take your time, sweetheart. Wake up when you’re ready. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”

  26

  I dream I’m walking around in the dark; the only thing I can see is the inside of my eyelids in the distance. I walk towards them, and they open. Bright light makes me blink. God, my head hurts. Something, a tube of some sort, is stuck down my throat; I try to pull it out. “There, there, my lovely,” an unknown voice soothes, “stay calm.”

  I’m tired, really tired; I just want to sleep, and so I do, spiralling back into the cocoon of darkness.

  “Beth, wake up,” it’s my sister’s voice. But I’m not ready... my mind is too woozy, and I can’t collect my thoughts.

  “Princesa,” another voice joins Sophie’s. I don’t know who this voice belongs to. Where’s Paulo? The last thing I remember we were hiking through the Amazon rain forest. Did I have an accident? Why is Sophie in Brazil? I shake my head. Dizziness unlike any I’ve ever experienced baffles me, and then darkness overtakes again.

  “Darling, it’s me, Mama. You gave us such a fright. Daddy is next to me,” I hear… how much later, I don’t know. Minutes? Hours? Days? I can’t be sure...

  I open my eyes. My father’s face looms into my field of vision, and I manage a weak smile. “What’s happened to me?”

  “Why is she speaking Portuguese?” my mother asks, confusing me. I fall back into that dark place without dreams.

  I’m in the hospital, I realise when I wake up. Something’s beeping, and there’s a line coming out of my left arm. I remember there was a tube down my throat, but it’s gone now.

  “Beth? Are you with us?”

  I open my eyes. A nurse is standing over me. I’d rather sleep but her voice is insistent so I say, “yes.”

  “Can you smile for me, love? Good. Squeeze my hand? Now this one? How many fingers am I holding up? How about now? Just follow this light, will you? Now look straight ahead. Good.”

  She calls the doctor, and I hear them discuss moving me out of intensive care. It all seems surreal and like far too much effort, so I let sleep overtake me again.

  I dream about the cuddly toys I had when I was a child, the teddies, lions, koalas and bunnies, and they all dance around me, inviting me to party with them. There’s a vague sensation of my bed moving, but I’m not sure if that’s really happening or not.

  “Good, you’re awake,” my sister says when I open my eyes again.

  “What happened?” I croak.

  She leans into me. “Oh, thank God you’re speaking English.”

  “Haven’t I always spoken English?” my words come out slowly, like I’ve dragged them from the dark recesses of my subconscious.

  “Not the past few days, Beth. You’ve just come out of a coma, and it isn’t unusual, we were told, for there to be confusion if someone speaks several languages.”

  I stare at her. A coma? “What happened?” I repeat.

  She tells me the most amazing story about how I’ve qualified as a teacher after breaking up with Paulo. How I made friends with the mother of one of my pupils. How we were attacked and I defended her against wicked men. I gasp when she says my brain has been injured and that it might be some time before I’m fully healed.

  I touch my fingers to my head, and feel the bandages. “I don’t remember any of that,” I say, panic in my voice.

  She holds my hand. “Please, don’t be scared. The medical staff here are fab.” She smiles with such affection it takes me by surprise. “The main thing is, you’re going to get better.” She pauses, catching her lip between her teeth. “There’s something else you don’t remember.”

  “What?” How much more can there be?

  “You’ve met someone rather special.” There’s a sparkle in her eyes. “I was doubtful at first, it’s not a straightforward relationship, but I’ve grown to like him. I’ve grown to like him very much. And he’s absolutely besotted with you.”

  I shake my head, and the movement makes me feel giddy, but not as giddy as before. “How can I have forgotten?”

  “You haven’t forgotten, sweetie,” Soph says softly. “It’s just your short-term recall. And, to help it come back to you, the doctors think it would be a good idea for him to visit. To jog your memory.”

  “W… w… when?”

  “Tomorrow, my darling. In the meantime, they’ll start your rehabilitation therapy. So, be a good girl and do as you’re told, alright?” she lets out a laugh. “We want the old you back as soon as possible.”

  I nod slowly, watching her push herself to her feet. When did her belly get so big? Oh. My. God. She’s pregnant. “Congratulations,” I say, smiling. “When’s your baby due?�
��

  “Next month,” she beams. “We’re having a boy. Noah.”

  “That’s wonderful.” And it is… I’m genuinely happy for her. “How long was I out for, Soph?”

  “Nearly a month, sweetie,” she says warmly. “And you’ve been coming out of the coma this past week.”

  “What year is it?”

  She tells me, and I stare at her wide-eyed. “I’ve mislaid over three years of my life.”

  “It will all come back, eventually,” she says serenely. “Do you remember what happened with Paulo?”

  I chew my lip, and search the recesses of my mind. An image flashes up of me finding him with another woman; he was fucking her in the dorm of the Youth Hostel. My breath catches. “Yes, that just came back to me. Not all of it, but the fact we broke up.” And, strangely, I feel nothing. No pain. No heartache. Nothing.

  “The doctors said getting your memory back will be like a jigsaw puzzle. You’ll place the missing pieces together until the picture is complete.”

  “Oh.” It’s hard to take in. “What’s the name of this man who’s besotted with me?”

  “You’ll know when you see him. At least that’s what we’re all hoping.” She squeezes my fingers. “Get some rest now, sweetie. While you sleep, your brain will rewire itself, and little by little you’ll get better.”

  The next day, after I’ve managed to eat some lunch, a middle-aged nurse helps me to my feet. “You need to start using your muscles,” she says in a bossy tone. I sway from one foot to the other, my balance completely off. Keeping myself from falling over requires serious effort and concentration; I feel as if I’ve drunk five vodka shots. The nurse guides me to a walking frame. “Come with me as far as the bathroom,” she says, “I’ll help you take a shower.”

  I stare at my emaciated body in the mirror, my gaunt face, my head swathed in dressings. “Did they shave off all my hair?” I ask in a shaky voice.

  “I’m afraid so, my dear. It will grow back again good as new. Don’t worry about that now.”

  It feels strange to sit in a plastic chair in the shower cubicle while the nurse soaps me. I feel so helpless. She pats me dry with a towel, and helps me into the clean pyjamas she says Sophie brought from home. Thinking about my sister makes me smile; I’ve never felt so close to her.

  Just that small amount of activity completely tires me out, and, after the nurse has helped me back to my bed, I fall into a deep sleep.

  Something wakes me, I don’t know how much later. It’s a scent, a mixture of musky maleness and woody cologne. I blink my eyes open. Is this the man who’s supposed to be besotted with me? God, he’s gorgeous. He takes up almost all the space in the small area around my bed. His denim-blue eyes meet mine, and he smiles, his teeth flashing white. “Hola, princesa,” he says in a deep, melodious voice.

  I screw up my face, and concentrate hard. But my mind is blank as far as he’s concerned. I can’t even remember his name.

  He reaches for my hand, and I let him hold it, willing myself to feel some connection with him. I stare at his wrist, at the scorpion tattoo. I’ve seen it before. His name hovers at the edge of my consciousness like the puff of a breeze and suddenly, I have it. “Ryan,” I say. “You’re Ryan.” My heart knows, even if my mind doesn’t yet grasp all there is to comprehend.

  And then, he’s kissing me, gently, as if I’m in danger of falling apart… which, I suppose, I am. His lips are soft, but oh so familiar. “Oh, God, Beth. Thank God.” His eyes travel over my face, searchingly. “I don’t know if I’d have survived much longer with you not remembering me.”

  A single tear runs down my cheek. “It will take me a while to get back to normal. You’re going to need a lot of patience.” My eyes close, and tiredness washes over me. “I think I’ll sleep for a while. It’s all I seem to do, but I’m told it will help me recover.”

  He lifts my hand to his lips, and kisses it gently. “Rest well, princesa.” I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  I want to ask him so many questions, but even as I think of them they evaporate. “Thanks, Ryan,” I breathe. “I love you.” That much I do know. My love for him swells in my heart and reverberates through my soul.

  27

  Five months have gone by… five months of watching Beth return almost to her old self. There’ve been setbacks, times when it’s seemed she was making no progress; she’s had to relearn so many of the skills she once took for granted. Her first walk on her own, unassisted, was an incredible milestone. She’s stunned us all with her determination to overcome her difficulties, though; she’s built up her endurance on the treadmill, and in the swimming pool at the rehabilitation centre where she’s spent most of the summer. I’m so fucking proud of her.

  Her short-term memory was decimated by the injury, and therapists have worked with her, training her mind by reading her lists of words or numbers and getting her to remember as many as possible. She still has brief lapses, but they don’t happen that often. We’ve learnt to take each day as it comes. I’m only glad she’s remembered everything about what happened between us, and that she’s told me she has no regrets. She missed her birthday when she was in that coma, and we celebrated when she remembered that she’d missed it. I know she turned twenty-seven, but we don’t make a big deal about the difference in our ages. It doesn’t matter to me, and she’s learning not to care about it too.

  When the bandages were removed from her head, and the stitches came out, her scalp was covered in a fine fuzz; I loved to kiss the softness of what I called her ‘baby hair’. It’s grown out now, and she’s had it styled in layers around her face. She looks so fucking beautiful she takes my breath away.

  School hasn’t been that great without her, but I wanted to make Beth proud so I studied hard in between visits to her, work shifts, playing rugby and hanging out with Josh… when he wasn’t with Catrin. The external exams finished at the end of June, and I’ve spent the past six weeks seeing Beth every day, and working most nights at the pub to save up for uni. We resumed making love in her private room at the centre when I’d officially left school; it was a mutual decision, and I didn’t pressure her... I’ve learnt restraint after having nearly lost her to that fucktard.

  Diego has already been sentenced to five years’ imprisonment, and his accomplice to one year. Sophie’s husband, Mike, is bringing a civil case against Diego for damages and, if he’s successful, as he’s sure he will be, then Beth won’t have to worry about finding work for several years… more than enough time for a full recovery, we hope. She’s been on full pay since the attack, but that’s about to change to half-pay for the next six months.

  Today, Sophie is bringing Beth back home to her flat, and I’ve been invited round there as soon as I’ve picked up my A-Level results.

  “Phone me when you find out your grades,” Mam demands as I step out the front door. “Promise!”

  “Yes, Mam. Remember I’m going to Beth’s afterwards.”

  “How can I forget?” she laughs. “You’ve been acting like you have ants in your pants ever since you knew she was being discharged.”

  “It took long enough to happen,” I groan. “She’s had to pass so many damn tests to prove she could manage on her own. Stubborn as ever, she wouldn’t go and stay with Sophie. Said she wanted her independence back.”

  “Give her my love,” Mam says, smiling. “Tell her I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

  “Will do.”

  Sara squirms out the door. “Good luck, bro’.” Grandad echoes her from his chair in front of the TV, “Good luck!”

  I ruffle little sis’ hair and then set off for school. Josh and Catrin are waiting for me at the gates, and we march up the drive together. “Nervous?” Catrin asks.

  “Kinda,” I lie. I’m fucking crapping myself. So much depends on this.

  “I feel like throwing up,” Cat shivers, her arm around Josh’s waist. “You go first, Ryan.”

  The head of Year 13 is handing out envelopes to a line of students
, and we join the back of the queue. It seems to take forever to reach the front, and my hands shake as I receive the envelope with my results. I tear it open, and withdraw a slip of paper.

  Spanish: A*

  PE: A

  Maths: B

  I punch the air and let out a “Whoop!”

  Josh and Catrin are crying tears of happiness and hugging each other. “We got the grades we need for Cardiff,” they shout, “both of us.”

  “And I’ll be going to Southampton,” I grin. “Who’d have thought it?”

  “Wanna hang out at my place?” Josh asks.

  “Nah, three’s a crowd,” I smirk. “And there’s somewhere I gotta be.” I wave them off. “Catch ya later.”

  I pull my phone from my pocket and connect with home. “I did good,” I say to Mam, and I chuckle as I hear her shriek the house down. “I’m setting off for Beth’s now. Don’t expect to see me back until tomorrow.” I smile so wide my face almost cracks.

  “Would you mind holding Noah while I pop to the loo?” Sophie asks after we’ve stepped through the front door. I drop my suitcase, and she hands me her wriggling baby. He’s four months old now, and such a cutie. Big brown eyes with lashes to die for, chubby cheeks, and a button nose. I go through to the living area with Noah balanced on my hip, and note the vase of colourful fresh flowers, and how clean and tidy everything is. Carys has had the keys to my place ever since I told the police to give them to her, and she’s made sure everything is just perfect for my return. God, how I love that woman!

  I perch on the sofa, and the memories flood back, the times Ryan and I have talked, cuddled and made love here. But Noah demands my attention; he’s grabbed my necklace, and is trying to put the dragon pendant into his mouth. “No, you don’t,” I chuckle. “Your mama will feed you in a minute.”