I Unlove You (42 page)

I
know where I am. I know where this is. I
’
ve walked this
street numerous times before, hopping off that bus stop with Joey
whilst we visit his friend, Jim. This isn
’
t Jim
’
s house,
as he lives further down the street, but I know where I am. I know
where this is, and in an instant my shoulders relax and my head
quits throbbing.

Then the rumble and turmoil begin again, because, why am I
here? Why am I in one of Leeds
’
most notorious
areas? Why the hell am I in some random squalor that sits on the
same street as Jim
’
s?

I check my trouser pockets for
change, desperate for a couple of pounds to escape this nightmare
on the bus. Nothing.

I
’
m panting. I
’
m light-headed and
on the verge of vomiting. I can
’
t do this. I want to
curl up and die. I need to calm down. I need to breathe. I need to
figure this out and leave this house. I need to
…

“
The phone
box,
”
I whisper to myself.
“
By the side of the bus
shelter. There is one, I
’
m sure there
is.
”

Walking towards the bright yellow sign, I spot the phone
box and relax. I left the house, and as soon as I stepped outside,
my body warmed; that horrible cesspool colder than out here. Each
step is painful, my body shakes and shivers, my head pounds and
stomach churns. I can
’
t think about the
pain and urge to throw up. I need to call Joey. I need to make it
to that phone box.

He
’
ll come for me. He
’
ll rescue
me.

I
edge closer with each limp, my left side aching as I move my leg
forward. I
’
m nearly there, just
a few feet to go, the door in reach and in my hand. I slide it open
and it reveals a metal phone with rusty numbers; half-torn posters
and stickers decorate the walls, alongside black paint and the
signatures of bored teenagers.

I
tap the buttons and dial the vaguely familiar sequence I used to
use when making a collect call to my parents. It
rings
…
one ring
…
two rings
…
pick up Joey. Three rings
…
pauses
…
crackles
…
a fourth ring
…
a longer
pause
…
a
click
…

“
Joey,
”
I snap.
“
Are you
there?
”

“
Aus, is that
you?
”
he replies, his tone quick and short.
“
Where have you been?
Are you okay? What the fuck is going on?
”

“
I
’
m
fine,
”
I sigh, placing my forehead on the cold, metal wall.
“
I
’
m in
Chapeltown. By the off-licence near Jim
’
s. I can
’
t
remember anything, Joe. I
’
m freaking
out.
”

“
Are you with
Jim?
”

“
No. I
’
ve no idea where
I
’
ve been.
”
I sigh again.
“
I can
’
t remember
anything.
”

“
Jesus, brother. What the hell
have you been up to?
”
He trails off and rustles some keys.
“
I
’
m coming
right now. Don
’
t move,
okay?
”

“
Okay.
”

“
Brother?
”

“
Yeah?
”

“
You sure you
’
re okay?
You
’
re not hurt or anything, right?
”

“
I
’
m fine. I have the
worst hangover ever, and can
’
t remember anything
about last night, but I
’
m okay.
”

“
Last night?
”

“
Yeah. I remember leaving work,
but then it
’
s a
—“

“
Aus, I
’
ve spent the last
two days looking for you.
“

“
What are you talking about?
What day is it?
”
I ask, my chest picking up its pace once
again.

“
It
’
s Saturday. It
’
s nearly
two o
’
clock on Saturday. What day did you think it
was?
”

“
I quit my job on Wednesday
afternoon, and after that
…”

“
Wednesday?
”
He startles a
laugh.
“
Shit.
You
’
re a lunatic.
”

“
I
’
m freaking out, Joe.
Please, come get me.
“

“
I
’
m coming.
I
’
ll be there in ten minutes.
”

Cupping a steaming mug of coffee in both hands, I feel my
fingers for the first time today. Wrapped in a blanket,
I
’
m covered from head to toe in Joey
’
s gym
clothes. I can
’
t remember the last
time I wore jogging bottoms or a hoodie, but right now I
can
’
t imagine ever wearing anything but.

“
You had me worried,
brother,
”
Joey says, sitting next to me and holding his hip
flask.
“
Here, I think you need some of this.
”

I
shake my head.
“
I
’
m never drinking again.
”

“
From what I hear, that might
not be a bad idea. But right now, you need to get
warm.
”
Without permission, he pours a generous shot into my
coffee.
“
Okay, explain yourself,
”
he continues.

“
I wish I could. The last thing
I remember is standing outside the office after quitting and
screaming at Tony.
”

“
You screamed at your
boss?
”

“
Yeah.
”
I gulp from my mug, the additional
whisky almost forcing it up my throat again.
“
I guess things
spiralled from there.
”

“
You don
’
t remember
anything?
”

“
Nope. I woke up on some bleak
bathroom floor, half naked and feeling utter despair.
It
’
s not even hazy. It
’
s like someone
erased my mind.
”

“
I see,
”
he says, swigging
from the flask.

“
What have you
heard?
”
I ask, glancing at him before looking at my curled up toes
peeking out from the bottom of the blanket.

“
I
’
m not sure you want
to know the answer to that.
”

“
That bad?
”

“
I don
’
t know where to
begin. Plus, I only have bits of the story. I
didn
’
t start looking for you until Thursday
night.
”

“
Do my parents
know?
”

“
No. Although I decided if I
didn
’
t find you today I
’
d tell them and call
the police.
”

“
The police?
”

“
What else was I supposed to do?
Christ, I thought about calling
B
.
”

I laugh, a slow, small, pitiful,
despairing laugh.

“
I figured you may have killed
her
…
or she
’
d killed
you.
”

“
Maybe I did,
”
I say.

“
I suppose we
can
’
t rule anything out.
”

I sigh.
“
What
happened to me?
”

He takes another sip from his
flask but says nothing.

“
The
highlights,
”
I
say.
“
Not too much detail.
”

“
I don
’
t have much
detail to give you,
”
he says, pouring another shot of whisky into my
coffee.
“
On Wednesday night, you were seen in Hi-Fi, Smokestack, and
Neon Cactus. You were thrown out of the last
two.
”

“
Who was I
with?
”

“
Nobody. I spoke to all the door
staff, and those who remember seeing you said you were alone. All
night. And Jerry, one of the guys behind the bar at Neon Cactus,
said you were silent the entire time. You just propped yourself at
the end of the bar and kept yourself to yourself. He said you
didn
’
t seem too drunk at that point.
”

“
Why did I get thrown out,
then?
”

“
You fell
asleep.
”

“
Great.
”

“
But you were fine, for the most
part. They led you out, put you in a taxi, and all was well. Except
you apparently got out of the taxi and walked into Smokestack
instead.
”

I sip my coffee, the rich aroma
mixing with the hum of whisky.

“
Anyway, you were thrown out of
Smokestack at around two o
’
clock, and from what
I can tell, you didn
’
t go into another
bar afterwards, at least, not one of our regular
hangouts.
”

“
I don
’
t remember any
of this,
”
I say, pulling the blanket closer to my
chin.

“
This was the bright part of
your little adventure. It got pretty damn weird after
that.
”

“
What do you
mean?
”

“
No doorman or bar staff have
seen you since Wednesday night.
”

“
How the hell did I get into
this state, then? If I didn
’
t go into any bars,
where did I go?
”

Cocking his head, he
squints.