Because She Loves Me (17 page)

Ninteen

‘
Andrew. Andrew? Can you hear me?’ The voice was soft, kind. A hand on my cheek, then stroking my hair. I was rising, floating up through the dark water, breaking the surface in a froth of bubbles.

‘Mum?’

A gentle laugh. ‘No, handsome. It’s me, Charlie.’

I opened one eye, then the other. There was a sharp pain behind my eyebrows and my mouth felt like I’d been crunching on spoonfuls of sand. I was warm, too, and I looked down to see that I had a blanket over me, the thick woollen one that I kept rolled up in the top of my wardrobe. I was on my sofa.

And there was an angel smiling at me, an angel with glorious flaming hair and big intelligent eyes.

‘Andrew?’ the angel called Charlie said, tilting her head. ‘Stay with me. Don’t go—’

I slipped beneath the water again.

I woke up with Charlie kneeling on the carpet in front of me, holding a glass of water and gazing at me with concern. As soon as I opened my eyes she said, ‘Oh, thank God. Please try to stay awake this time.’

‘There are cobwebs in my head,’ I said. ‘Spiders crawling around my brain.’

She looked at me with alarm.

‘No, I don’t mean literally.’ Was this what delirium felt like? ‘I mean . . .’ I couldn’t find the words to complete the sentence.

She held out the water, told me to drink some.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

‘I can’t . . . I don’t . . .’

She smiled, showing her teeth. She had a little chip on the right front tooth. Had I noticed that before? ‘OK, don’t worry. I know what it’s like.’ I must have looked confused because she said, ‘I mean, I’ve been there. When I first took Temazepam. Oh, that’s what was in that little jar.’

It took my brain a few seconds to work out what she was talking about. ‘Not codeine?’

‘No. I put them in that jar for safekeeping. They’re sleeping pills. I’ve been carrying them round in my bag for a long time . . . a couple of years at least. I got them when I was having trouble, well, sleeping when I lived in Birmingham.’

‘You lived in Birmingham?’

‘Yes. For a short while. I had a contract there. But that’s not important. The point is that the pills came in a huge box, in foil . . . and I popped them all out and put them in an empty jar I had. I guess they must have fallen out along with that other stuff – the shampoo and whatnot. How many did you take?’

I thought about it. ‘Two.’

She shook her head. ‘No wonder you were out for so long. One is enough to knock you out for a whole night.’

‘How long was I out?’ I looked towards the window. It was light.

‘Well, I don’t know when you took them exactly, but it’s two p.m. on Friday now.’

I had taken them on Thursday afternoon. ‘Oh . . . shit. I’ve been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours.’

I sat up, my body creaking like a geriatric’s. My bladder felt like it was on fire.

‘And I’ve been here,’ she said. ‘All the time. Looking after you.’

Charlie ran me a bath and sat on the edge while I let the hot water bring my limbs back to life.

‘I called in sick,’ she said, trailing her hand through the water. ‘I didn’t want you waking up with no one here, wondering what the hell had happened.’

‘Thank you. God, I think my brain evaporated while I was asleep.’ I splashed my face and rubbed it. ‘Why did you have those pills?’

She looked away. ‘I told you. A couple of years ago, I was having trouble getting to sleep.’

I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I said, ‘What was wrong? Why couldn’t you sleep?’

She shrugged. ‘It was just a phase. No big deal.’

But this hoarding of her past was beginning to bother me. For once, I pushed her.

‘Come on Charlie, there’s more to it, isn’t there?’

She fidgeted. Looked all around the room like she was seeking an escape route.

‘Can you look at me?’

She drew a breath and looked at me, tight-lipped.

‘I broke up with someone,’ she said.

‘Oh.’

‘It was a difficult break-up. Very . . . unpleasant.’ Her hand in the water was motionless.

‘What was his name?’ I asked.

Another long hesitation. ‘Leo.’

‘Was he a lion?’

She smiled at last. ‘No, he was a rat. A love rat.’

‘He cheated on you?’

She stood up, went over to the basin. The mirror on the cabinet was steamed up and, as she spoke, with her back to me, she traced lines in the steam: jagged lines, slashes in the condensation.

‘He was a bastard. A total fucking bastard. He was one of those guys, always eyeing up attractive women, like I’d be sitting with him in a restaurant and his eyes would be roaming about the room, perving over anyone with a bit of cleavage showing or legs on display. Very early on in our relationship he slept with someone else when he was on a business trip. But his excuse was that we’d only been seeing each other a few weeks, he didn’t know we were exclusive, it was a meaningless shag. So I gave him another chance.’

The condensation was all gone now, so I could see Charlie’s face in the mirror, frowning.

‘That was the worst mistake . . .’

‘You ever made?’

Her eyes had gone blank, and I knew she’d gone deep inside her head, had left my bathroom and withdrawn into her memory. The tap dripped. Plink. Plink. Plink. I counted. After eleven drips, Charlie came back into the room.

‘Are you all right?’ I said.

‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’ She shook her head and smiled, like the whole topic was forgotten, like we’d been talking about our favourite chocolate or childhood TV shows. ‘Want me to join you?’

Before I could answer, she had stripped off, chucking her clothes on the floor, and jumped into the bath, and while I wanted to ask her about her ex, Leo, and the worst mistake Charlie had ever made, yet again my body took over, told my mind to shut up, stop worrying. Enjoy the ride.

I leaned on my crutch by the front window, dried and dressed. Maybe it was because of the long sleep, but my leg felt less painful today, nothing a couple of normal painkillers couldn’t cure. And although I had mild cravings for codeine, I was able to distract myself, not think about it too hard.

‘The snow and ice have all gone,’ I pointed out to Charlie, who had been in the bedroom drying her hair.

‘I know. The thaw finally arrived.’

‘I want to go out,’ I said.

‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’

‘I’m going completely stir crazy here. If it’s not slippery, it will be fine. You’ll just have to catch me if I fall over! Come on, I’m not going to be dissuaded.’

Ten minutes later we stood on the street, after a wobbly journey down the stairs, wrapped in our coats against a bitter wind. But the cold breeze felt wonderful, like inhaling mints, filling my lungs, making my heart beat faster, my blood pump harder.

‘Let’s go to the park,’ I said.

It was far more challenging to walk on crutches outside than in the confined space of my flat, but Charlie stayed close to me, teasing me about being a ‘poor wounded soldier.’ I soon settled in to a rhythm and when I relaxed I felt more alive than I had in two weeks, like I’d been let out of prison.

‘Well, I’m glad you haven’t been institutionalised,’ Charlie said when I told her this.

‘You have been an excellent cell-mate though.’

‘Hmm. More like a warden.’

We passed through the park gates.

‘That gives me an idea,’ Charlie said, a wicked twinkle in her eye. ‘We could play prison guard and inmate. I’ll get some handcuffs and a big stick, and you can wear a jumpsuit.’

‘Kinky.’

‘If you behave yourself, you’ll get special privileges. But if you’re naughty, if you disobey me . . .’

‘You scare me sometimes,’ I laughed.

The park was beautiful. Tree bark glistened with frost. Spidery branches were framed by the steely-blue sky. Chunks of ice floated in the lake where Charlie and I had made love, though I shivered to remember the feeling of being watched and the second-hand memory of the boy who had drowned here, on a day just like this. I stopped to give Charlie a kiss, leaning on my crutches, and we walked on, up to the big house where we bought hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows and watched some pre-school kids running about on the grass.

‘Do you like kids?’ Charlie asked.

‘Kids? Yeah, definitely. I mean, I’m not ready to have any yet, but one day. How about you?’

‘I’m pregnant,’ she said.

I spat out my hot chocolate.

‘Just kidding.’ She laughed uproariously.

‘Charlie! Don’t do that to me.’

‘Judging by that reaction, you’re definitely not ready. No, I do like kids. I sometimes have dreams where I have a little boy who has hair the same colour as mine and he’s wearing a stripy T-shirt and he holds my hand and tells me he’ll love me forever.’

‘That’s sweet.’

‘They never do though. Boys, especially. They always leave their mums.’ She watched a pair of little girls running in circles, shrieking. ‘I don’t know how I’d feel about having a daughter though.’

‘I’m sure you’d be an excellent mum. You’re so caring and nurturing.’

She laughed. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. You look after me.’

She ruffled my hair. ‘You’re my little boy. You won’t leave me, will you?’

‘Never. But the little boy thing is a bit creepy.’

‘Yeah. Sorry about that.’

On our way out of the park, we passed a woman with long blonde hair, wearing an expensive-looking black coat. She could have been a model, with sharp cheekbones and huge eyes.

‘See something you liked?’ Charlie said, after the woman had passed and was out of earshot. A switch had been flicked and Charlie’s mood had changed in an instant.

‘Huh?’

‘That girl. I saw you staring at her.’

Charlie stopped walking and I was forced to stop too.

‘Staring? What are you talking about?’

‘I saw you. Your tongue fell out of your mouth. You were practically drooling.’

‘No I wasn’t.’

She moved in front of me. ‘So tell me you weren’t staring at her.’