The Parcel
Page 16
Chapter 16 – Daniel
Daniel tripped in his haste to get away from the hospital, his mother's frantic cries still ringing in his ears. He stumbled forward, just managing to steady himself. There was a box at his feet, the culprit of his near humiliation, and Daniel gave an annoyed huff at the health and safety hazard in front of him. He bent to pick it up, only to realise that it was a parcel. He glanced around in the hopes of finding its owner, but there was no one in sight. In fact, it was eerily silent compared to the shouts and screams he had been subjected to over the last few hours, with only the distant sounds of medical equipment and the faint sound of footsteps and shuffling feet in the distance. The reception desk was empty and the waiting area seemed abandoned, which Daniel found unusual, but then he supposed it was past visiting hours now and the ward must already be in night-time mode.
Daniel wasn't sure what possessed him to do so, but he kept hold of the parcel as he headed out of the ward and down to the main entrance. He knew he should have taken it to the desk or enquired about a lost and found, but he didn't. Finding the parcel was so unexpected, and he couldn't quell his curiosity at what it contained and how it had ended up in a psychiatric ward, of all places. Had it belonged to a patient? Maybe a member of staff had meant to post it on their way to work, or it had been misplaced by a visitor. Either way, Daniel suspected that the parcel was lost, and Daniel knew just how that felt. He decided that he'd be sure to take the parcel to the post office in the morning.
His phone rang in his pocket and made him jump. It shouldn't have surprised him, since it was the seventh time it had rung in the last two hours. Daniel knew who it would be without having to look. He knew it was cruel to let Michael worry. So many people wanted to talk, to ask how his mother was and how the family was coping. He didn't have the strength to keep pretending he wasn't happy to see his mother strapped down in that room, that he wasn't pleased to finally have her someplace where she couldn't harm him or his sister anymore. With Michael, it was different. Michael knew, although it had gone unspoken, that Daniel was thankful that his mother was finally someone else's responsibility, and he was terrified that that made him a terrible person. He let the phone keep ringing until eventually it stopped.
Daniel was grateful for the breeze when he stepped outside. It had felt so claustrophobic in the ward. He knew he wouldn't be visiting again. He took a deep breath and gave a sigh of relief, before looking down at the parcel that was still in his hands. He inspected the address and then looked to see if there was a return address at the back. Nothing. He wondered who had left it, and how it had ended up on the floor of a psychiatric ward. It seemed like such a strange thing to lose. Daniel was curious to know what the parcel contained. He lifted it close to his ear, giving it a gentle shake. There was a slight rattle, but the noise gave no clue as to what was inside.
His phone rang for the eighth time, pulling Daniel away from his contemplation. He needed to answer it – he knew it was the right thing to do. He wedged the parcel under his arm and pulled his phone from his pocket to answer the call.
"Hi."
"Finally," Michael replied, sounding exasperated.
"I'm sorry," Daniel started, but he wasn't sure where to go from there. What more could he say?
Michael sighed before he spoke. "Danny, you're an idiot."
Daniel laughed. Michael wasn't wrong. "Yeah, I know."
Daniel had never been one for long, meaningful conversations, and Michael knew that. Michael respected that, and it was one of the reasons their relationship worked so well.
"Come down to the club. I'm only here until twelve. Have a drink and wait for me."
Daniel considered it for a moment. Was it really a good idea to be drinking tonight? He'd spent the last few hours watching his schizophrenic mother being strapped onto a bed by several nurses, and she had been kicking and screaming the entire time. It was hardly the time to be drinking, but Daniel knew his limits, and he knew that Michael would watch out for him. His boyfriend was good at that.
"Yeah, I'll come down."
"Great, catch you in a bit then. I love you."
"You too." Daniel didn't exactly say the words back, but then he rarely did. He didn't find it an easy thing to say. He hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.
It was too far to walk to the club from the hospital, and Daniel couldn't see any point in going home first, so he caught a taxi straight to the club. The parcel was still in his possession, although he knew it wasn't his to possess. He'd post it first thing, he decided. Random acts of kindness, and all that.
Daniel didn't have to queue when he reached the club. Instead, he walked straight past the thirty or so people waiting in line. The beauty of dating the owner was that he also didn't have to pay the ten-pound entrance fee, and his drinks usually came for free. The bouncer waved Daniel in but eyed the parcel before pointing behind him in the general direction of the cloakroom.
"You can't take shit like that in, Daniel, you know that."
"Oh, no, of course not." Daniel looked down at the parcel and blushed. He realised how strange he must look. "I'll leave it in the cloakroom, no worries."
The music got louder as he crossed the threshold. He could feel the steady thump of the beat in his chest and it made him feel alive. He approached the cloakroom window and handed the parcel to Violet, the club newbie, who gave it a dubious look.
"Don't ask," he said with a wry chuckle. "It's not mine. It's... a long story."
Violet raised an eyebrow but didn't say a word. She handed him a little slip of paper with a number on it or collection, and Daniel watched as she took the parcel and put it in the bottom row of a rack usually reserved for handbags.
Once the parcel was out of sight, it was gone from Daniel's mind. He wanted to see Michael, and he wanted to forget about today. He wanted to move on, now that his mother was finally someone else's responsibility. Just like that, the parcel that Daniel had been so fascinated by was forgotten.
He found the little slip of paper a week later in the pocket of his jeans. When he inquired at the club, he found that the parcel was gone… no one knew where.
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