The Startling Inaccuracy of the First Impression

by A. E. Radley

  “In the evening,” Verity added.

  “Wow,” Katie mumbled.

  “It’s Wednesday,” Verity explained.

  Katie nodded, happy to be filled in on some of the important points.

  Verity stood and put the food tray onto an over-bed trolley and rolled it into position.

  “Looks… interesting,” she said.

  Katie lifted her hand to pick up the cutlery and winced. She looked at the palm of her hand and saw it was red and raw, with cuts and bruises peppering her skin. She was reminded of being a kid, falling and reaching out to save her face from injury only to catch her hands instead.

  She wiggled her fingers slowly, willing some movement back into them. After a few moments, she reached for the cutlery again. Her grasping fingers clutched where she thought the cutlery was only to end up grabbing hold of air. She focused all her attention on the task, willing her eyes to give her the correct information.

  “Allow me.” Verity picked up the cutlery with ease. She stood and lifted a plastic lid from a plate. “Lasagne. Looks delightful, would you like me to help you?”

  Katie hated the idea with a passion. Being helped to eat? By Verity Forsyth? She couldn’t think of anything worse.

  Her stomach growled.

  She swallowed and took a calming breath, evaluating the situation properly. She was hungry, and Verity was reaching out and being extremely nice. Could Katie put their differences aside for a few minutes and accept some help? Even if accepting help from anyone at all was really not Katie’s forte.

  Her stomach growled again, as if it were attempting to shout down her pride.

  “Yes, please,” she whispered.

  Verity picked up a napkin and placed it under Katie’s chin, covering her hospital-issued gown that she hadn’t even realised she was wearing until then. She moved the trolley and the tray into a better position and used the spoon to break off a small mouthful of lasagne.

  “I find this goes a lot easier if we talk,” Verity said.

  She fed Katie a spoonful of food. Katie slowly chewed it and then swallowed. It wasn’t great, but it was food. Much-needed food. It could have been paste, and Katie would have gladly eaten it.

  “Talk about what?” she asked.

  “Anything you like,” Verity replied.

  Verity fed her another small mouthful, and Katie chewed it slowly again, unable to focus on eating and coming up with a topic of conversation.

  “Why are you home all day every day?” Katie finally asked. It was the first question that her confused brain could latch onto. “Do you work from home?”

  “I took early retirement,” Verity explained as she prepared another spoonful.

  Katie dodged the incoming spoon and looked at Verity in amazement. She was definitely drugged and confused. Verity couldn’t possibly have said what she thought she said.

  “What’s wrong?” Verity frowned. “Should I call a nurse?”

  “How old are you?” Katie asked, belatedly wondering if that was something she should ask.

  Verity chuckled. “I’m going to assume that’s your pain medication speaking. I’m fifty-one.”

  Verity lifted the spoon again, and Katie shook her head. Confusion was still swimming around her brain.

  “But that’s… that’s like really early retirement.”

  “It is.” Verity nodded her agreement. “Now take this bite before it decays.”

  Katie took the bite of food and slowly chewed it, her brain mulling over the information she’d just received. Katie couldn’t imagine retiring at fifty-one. Some people may have thought of it as the ultimate dream, but Katie knew that work kept her mind and body active. It kept her feeling young. Not working for decades would surely turn her brain to mulch.

  “Why?” Katie asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you take early retirement?”

  Verity scooped up another bite of food and fed it to Katie. “They offered, and it seemed like a good idea. I could afford to live comfortably, so why not?”

  Katie could think of a hundred reasons why not.

  “I’m a lady of leisure,” Verity explained. “Time is mine to do as I please.”

  Katie wondered if she was projecting or if there was an edge to Verity’s words. Something seemed off, but she was so disorientated that she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

  It surprised her how quickly she became comfortable with Verity feeding her. Katie’s earlier concerns had practically vanished. She still felt a little foolish, but the desire to eat and the fact that Verity made it almost normal helped greatly.

  Verity continued to speak, listing an impressive number of hobbies that she had taken up since retiring. Katie couldn’t keep up, and couldn’t think of a single reply, but was happy that the conversation rolled on in the background.

  When she’d finished the lasagne, Verity offered the chocolate mousse. Katie shook her head. The ravenous hunger had vanished, and she was starting to feel a little queasy.

  “Would you like me to get you some things from home?” Verity offered.

  Katie didn’t know. She’d never been in hospital before and didn’t know the procedure.

  “I… don’t know.”

  “I could get you some comfortable clothes? Toiletries? Only if you like, of course. If you’d rather I call a friend, then I can do that?”

  Katie didn’t have any friends. She had piles of acquaintances and people she’d happily talk to, but someone she’d call and ask to go to her house and fetch clothing?

  No one sprang to mind.

  “Katie?” Verity asked.

  She realised she had been silent a long time.

  “I’m sorry, I’m… all over the place.”

  “I’m not surprised, you’ve had quite the afternoon.” Verity paused. “Why Katie and not Kate?”

  Katie smiled. “My mum. Her name was Elizabeth, and she hated that people abbreviated it all the time. Lizzie, Liz, Beth, Bess, Bessie. She gave me a name that was already abbreviated. Of course, some people try and call me Kat.”

  “Was?” Verity asked softly.

  “She died when I was young,” Katie explained. “It’s just me.”

  Verity nodded knowingly, seemingly understanding that it wasn’t a good time to continue that discussion. She leaned down and took her phone out of her bag.

  “So, what would you like me to bring in? And where will I find it?” she asked, thumb poised over the screen, ready to make notes.

  14

  Minimalist

  Verity dropped her keys into the china key dish at the top of the stairs and let out a tired yawn. She didn’t look at the time, didn’t want to know how late it was. She could already guess that it was early morning rather than late at night.

  The nurse had kindly allowed her to stay a while. She didn’t know why she stayed as long as she did. Her original intention had been to show up to just check on Katie for her own peace of mind.

  But as she’d waited in the waiting room, anxiety had settled in. Watching the hospital staff bustle around the place, always busy but constantly calm, she knew that she’d stay longer.

  The hospital was a strange place. It made people rethink the things they thought they knew. A low-level worry that threatened to consume all was present in patients’ eyes. Friends and family remained upbeat and told ridiculous jokes to keep things light, but they also looked shaken.

  Verity, like everyone she had ever met, didn’t like the hospital.

  She appreciated a National Health Service that provided free care to all, she adored the staff who worked so hard in trying conditions, but she just didn’t like the place.

  The smell. The sounds. The awful sense of foreboding that seeped into her.

  But she’d stayed, knowing that Katie was alone.

  The nurse had been very kind, keeping her updated when the surgery had ended and advising her that they were just waiting for Katie to wake up. Then Katie would be asked if she was u
p for company.

  That was how they phrased it, rather than saying they would confirm that she wasn’t a lunatic that Katie didn’t want to see.

  Probably standard procedure for stab victims.

  Verity shuddered at the thought.

  Kitty brushed up against her legs, and Verity bent down and picked her up. Kitty was an irritation at times, but she was an excellent cuddle companion. Verity held onto her and buried her face in the soft, long fur.

  Seeing Katie in that state had been a shock. Her face was paler than Verity thought possible; large, dark rings encircled her eyes and her hands and face were covered in minor scrapes, cuts, and bruises. She looked like she’d been through a battle.

  Verity supposed she had.

  She’d been disorientated, and Verity had wanted to stay to reassure her that all would be well. She’d managed to get her to eat a meal, and then they’d talked about the time of year and the weather for at least an hour.

  Verity had deliberately chosen a simple subject, not wanting to confuse Katie further or tax her brain. It was the right choice as Katie had repeated things several times, seemingly unaware of the circles her brain travelled in.

  Eventually she had fallen asleep and Verity had been sent packing by the night nurse.

  She entered the kitchen, turned on the light, and put Kitty back on the ground. She picked up the empty white china bowl and filled it with fresh cat food.

  When she placed it back on the ground, Kitty looked at her with displeasure.

  “Sorry, no treats tonight,” Verity told her.

  Kitty was spoilt, Verity knew it.

  Kitty turned her nose up and walked away from the dry cat food, the most expensive the local supermarket had to offer. Verity knew she’d be back later.

  She was reaching her hands up to grasp the lapels of her coat to remove it when she paused. Katie’s keys weighed heavily in her pocket. Not because they were cumbersome; in fact, it was only two keys on a simple silver ring.

  Responsibility tugged at her.

  She’d gone from not caring to being fully invested in Katie’s recovery. The offer to bring things to her had unexpectedly burst from her lips. She’d felt instantly stupid; surely Katie had other people to do that kind of thing for her? People who weren’t the annoying old woman who lived upstairs.

  But Katie had agreed and Verity had been guaranteed another visit to the hospital the next day. She’d felt strangely pleased by the fact.

  She had intended to go to bed when she got home, rise early in the morning as she often did, collect Katie’s belongings, and head to the hospital. Now that she was home, she had no desire to go to bed. The hospital visit had unsettled her, and there would be nothing but nightmares waiting for her if she even managed to get off to sleep now.

  She pulled the coat back on.

  Picking up her own keys, she went back downstairs and exited her apartment. She got Katie’s key from her pocket and slid it into the lock. Reminding herself that she had permission, she entered the downstairs apartment.

  Obviously, she’d seen the hallway before, but she’d always been curious about the layout and design of the home. She had long ago realised that her stairwell must have cut through the centre of the downstairs abode, and wondered how that effected the layout.

  She’d soon get her answers.

  Even if it was under the worst circumstances.

  She closed the door behind her and felt along the wall for a light switch. After a while, she came across something, and a moment later the ceiling light sprang to life.

  The hallway was very plain; there was no artwork on the walls, no rug on the floor. Just a polished, wooden floor and white walls. An empty coat rack and a pair of trainers were the only things visible. Trainers, which Katie had requested.

  Verity wandered around, taking in the living room, second bedroom, kitchen, and finally the main bedroom. By the time she finished her loop of the property, a frown was etched on her face.

  Where were Katie’s belongings?

  The apartment was sparse to say the least. There wasn’t a single photograph, piece of artwork, or ornament, anything that brought life to the place.

  Minimalist didn’t even begin to cover it.

  Verity couldn’t grasp what she was seeing. Or rather, what she wasn’t seeing. Where were the books? The music? Magazines? A television?

  And furniture, everything was white and plain. Not a dab of colour existed in the entire apartment. Verity briefly wondered if Katie were colour-blind but knew that even they could see shades if not full colour.

  She wandered into the dining room, looking for a cable that Katie said might be plugged into a socket in there.

  “Do I just have too much stuff?” she questioned herself. “Is this normal? Am I the odd one?”

  She considered that for a moment before tossing it out again. She had plenty of friends and family whose homes looked more like hers than Katie’s.

  Yes, Verity had quite a lot of stuff. Yes, she could probably do with having that spring-clean she’d been considering for a while. But the difference between Katie’s home and hers was startling, and Verity had to wonder at it.

  Something appeared at the window, and Verity gasped, jumping back in shock.

  Kitty meowed at her from the other side of the glass.

  Verity glared in reply. Kitty had clearly ignored her bowl of fresh food, exited the upstairs apartment through the cat flap, and made a beeline for Katie’s place.

  “I regret granting you your freedom,” Verity told her.

  Kitty meowed again.

  15

  You Came Back

  Katie woke up. It wasn’t like the last couple of times she’d woken up, full of confusion to the point that it took a painfully long time to understand who she was. This time she woke up with an understanding that she was in hospital, having just had surgery. This time she didn’t try to move and aggravate her wound. This time she simply opened her eyes.

  She silently looked up at the ceiling, with no idea what time it was or what the day would bring. Such things didn’t seem all that relevant anymore.

  She heard the gentle rustling of paper.

  She turned her head and saw a wall of newsprint. Someone was sitting in the visitor chair beside her, and they were reading the Times. She only knew one person who would read the giant broadsheet.

  Verity was back.

  Katie hadn’t expected to see her again. When they’d said goodbye the night before—or rather when she’d fallen asleep—Katie had assumed that Verity would drop off her belongings at the nurses’ station and they’d go back to the way they were.

  Her heart filled with relief that Verity had returned.

  “Hey.”

  The paper, which had completely obscured Verity, was lowered. She saw a bright smile and heard a whispered hello.

  “You came back,” Katie said.

  “Of course; I said I would.”

  “I don’t remember. The pain medication is making everything a bit fuzzy.” Katie remembered, but she hadn’t believed it at the time.

  Verity nodded knowingly. “I bet. How are you feeling?”

  Katie wasn’t sure. Every now and then the painkillers started to lose their potency, or she moved in a way that aggravated either her wound or another injury. Pinpointing how she was doing seemed like an impossible task.

  Seeing Verity was a pleasant surprise that cheered her up, but Katie was wary to admit such things. Verity wouldn’t always be there, probably didn’t even want to be there.

  Katie had woken in the middle of the night and wondered just why Verity had turned up and then why she had stayed.

  Was it guilt? Perhaps she was religious and felt a calling to be by Katie’s sickbed?

  Katie swallowed. It was painfully obvious that Verity didn’t want to be there. She was there because she felt she ought to be, nothing more. Katie couldn’t, and shouldn’t, rely on her presence or her kindness because it would surely vanish
soon.

  The night before had been wonderful. Softly spoken words kept her panic attack at bay and made her feel safe. But that couldn’t be repeated. Verity had her own life, was only there now out of some weird sense of duty.

  The sooner Katie got herself together and returned to only relying on and trusting herself, the better.

  “Katie?” Verity asked again.

  “I’m… okay. It hurts. But it’s manageable. I’ll be fine. I am fine,” Katie told her.

  Verity’s brows knit together. “Good,” she said with uncertainty. “Well, I brought the things you asked for. And the nurse told me that you might be able to go home as early as this evening. You know the NHS; they need the bed, I suppose.”

  The nurse had told Katie that she might be able to leave that day, if her progress continued the way it had, and the doctor agreed. Apparently, she was in a healing phase, and that was something that could be done just as well—or even better—at home.

  The National Health Service didn’t need row upon row of beds being taken up by people slowly healing when that could be done elsewhere.

  “Yeah,” Katie agreed.

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?” Verity fished.

  Katie inclined her head into the slightest of nods. Of course, she wanted to be out of hospital, but she didn’t know how she’d manage. She still felt a little small and frightened; the thought of going home and being alone wasn’t appealing, but then, staying in the hospital certainly wasn’t appealing either. Given the choice, she’d go home in an instant.

  Right now, she needed to get rid of Verity.

  Despite feeling scared and alone, she needed to advise Verity that her good deed had been completed. She could go back to her own life, and Katie would be just fine on her own.

  “I was going to do a coffee run,” Verity said. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Why are you here?” Katie asked. She winced the second the words left her mouth; that hadn’t been quite how she wanted to phrase the question.

  Verity looked puzzled. “To bring your belongings and check on you.”