In Another Life (25 page)

“Well shake it off and come downstairs, I’ve got a game of charades to win,” Sebastian declared cheekily.

Marie pulled herself out of bed, her legs now weak and unsteady beneath her as she carefully made her way downstairs.

*

Sebastian Fenwick missed London. He missed the slightly polluted taste of the air, the coffee shop on the corner by Marie’s apartment that did the best espresso he’d ever had. He even missed riding the tube. He always found something thrilling about moving around beneath the ground like some sort of urban mole.

The only thing he didn’t miss was his family. Christmas in the Fenwick household was always tense. His mother was usually intoxicated before midday and would shout at the chef she’d hired to cook the dinner, insisting that everything was wrong. Most years, the chef would walk out long before the turkey had even been carved leaving the over privileged family to fend for themselves.

Everything was more relaxed in the Schneider household. Bill was now tipsy and trying to act out a charade but his movements were muddled and he kept slurring spoken clues even though the game is supposed to be rely on mime alone.

Each time he spoke Carol erupted in to fits of giggles, clutching her sides as she was overwhelmed by laughter. Sebastian couldn’t help but smile as he watched them.

Beside him on the sofa Marie seemed to have been drained of any mirth she had previously held. She was sat leant against the cushions, absently rubbing her thighs with a vacant expression upon her face.

“Do your legs hurt?” he leaned towards her as he asked the question.

“Huh?” Marie looked dazed.

“You’re rubbing your legs, I figured they must be hurting or something.”

“They ache,” Marie sighed, running her palms up and down her sore skin. She was wearing a festive night dress which meant that her bare legs were now exposed, revealing all her unsightly scars.

Angry red lines were splashed across each leg, seemingly without any form or purpose. There was now bruising now which made the stitching stand out even more against her usually flawless alabaster skin. In a macabre way Marie looked like a broken doll who had been stitched back together again.

“At least you’re walking without your crutches now,” Sebastian said brightly.

“Mmm,” Marie mumbled, looking away.

As Carol and Bill Schneider continued to play charades as a duo, Sebastian flicked through the news on his iPad.

Sometimes he found himself marvelling at the advances in technology. Even though he wasn’t in his beloved London he could still follow any news events thanks to the internet. Earlier he’d even shared a Skype call with his family where, predictably, dinner had been a disaster and so they’d ordered in Chinese food.

He used his finger to scan effortlessly through various stories, looking for any that caught his attention. Beside him, Marie let her gaze drift to the iPad’s monitor, also interested in what was happening in the world beyond the warm comfort of the Schneider’s lounge.

“Wait, what’s that?” Marie pointed at an image on the iPad.

“This?” Sebastian tapped on the image and the story opened up to cover the whole page. Quickly he scanned the text.

Carol was roaring with laughter as Bill Schneider kept dramatically entering and re-entering the living room, all the time wearing a goofy grin.

“I don’t know,” she giggled helplessly.

“Leaving? Door?”

Bill, also laughing, kept shaking his head. Then he raised four fingers.

“Fourth word,” Carol squealed with excitement.

Bill began to manically fan his hands in the air around him. It was a comical sight to behold and Sebastian couldn’t help but crack a grin as he looked up from the iPad. Marie’s expression however, remained stoic.

“Dancing?” Carol wondered.

Bill shook his head.

“Erm…drying?”

“No,” Bill gasped in annoyance.

“Sssh, Bill, you’re not schposed to talk,” Carol slurred as she took a long sip from her glass of Baileys over ice.

Bill continued to flap the air around him, growing increasingly animated.

“Wind?” Sebastian suggested. Elated Bill pointed directly at him, nodding.

“Wind?” Carol echoed, bemused. She thought on the word for a moment and then began bouncing up and down in her chair.

“Oooh, I know, I know,” she caught barely contain herself. “Gone with the Wind!” she shrieked.

“Yes,” Bill punched the air with satisfaction before falling about laughing.

“What’s that story?” Marie prompted, pulling Sebastian away from the revelry.

“It’s nothing,” he announced flippantly. “It’s just about some guy who threw himself in front of a train yesterday evening.”

“Did he die?” Marie asked, horrified.

“Course he did,” Sebastian announced heartlessly.

“Can I read it?” she reached out for the iPad which Sebastian passed across to her. Marie held the piece of equipment in her lap and felt any remaining colour drain away from her face.

There was an image of the man accompanying the story. As Sebastian had concisely stated he had indeed thrown himself in front of a train the previous evening, causing disruption along the line and preventing numerous people from making it home for Christmas.

Marie stared at the small accompanying image in disbelief. It wasn’t just any man who had leapt to his death at Euston Station, it was the man in the navy coat. The man who had spoken to her at the Christmas Market.

Suddenly Marie felt impossibly cold as though someone were pouring ice down her spine.

“Marie?” Sebastian reached over to retrieve his beloved iPad.

Numbly she handed it back to him.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Why were you so interested in that story? Stuff like that is pretty grim, don’t you think?”

“He just…looked familiar.”

Sebastian shrugged and continued to browse through news stories from the last twenty four hours.

Marie pulled herself up from the sofa.

“Marie, are you going to bed already?” Carol ceased laughing to glance over at her daughter.

“Yeah,” Marie confirmed. “I’m really tired.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart? We’ve not even opened the bottle of sherry yet.”

“I’m fine,” Marie had her hand on the door handle, her shoulders slumped.

“Goodnight then, honey.”

“Night.”

*

With Marie upstairs Sebastian could look up what he really wanted to look at. He put a search in to Google for mental hospitals in his area back in London. A list immediately popped up.

His heart pinched with regret as he opened various links and assessed the relevant facilities. It was all familiar to him. The closed wards, the limited visiting hours. His mother had been in and out of mental institutions during his childhood. Now she preferred to try and drink her demons away.

The part Sebastian struggled with the most was that his mother never got any better. She’d have good and bad days, and on the good days you’d almost believe that she was well. But then she’d quickly slip back in to her darker self and all hope would be lost.

Marie had seemed better during dinner. She’d smiled and laughed and engaged with her family but since waking from her nap that dark veil had fallen over her once more. What if she could never truly rid herself of her illusions of a world where she was a princess? What if she never felt like she belonged where she was?

Sebastian refused to accept such absolute outcomes. Marie would get better, she had to. He’d see her smile again and giggle at his terrible jokes. They’d have their perfect wedding and finally become man and wife. He would see to it that all that came to pass. No matter what the cost, Marie had to get better. Money was no object for Sebastian, he could afford to give her the very best care available.

“Hey, Sebastian,” Bill was pointing at him, the other hand unsteadily clutching a tin of beer.

“Want to have a go at charades?”

Sebastian shook his head. He was in no mood for parlour games. He doubted that Bill Schneider would be if he understood the severity of what awaited them the following day.

“I’m good, thanks Bill.”

“You’re missing out on all the fun,” Bill warned.

“I’m okay.”

“He’s just lovesick as Marie has gone up to bed,” Carol teased. “But she’s getting better, isn’t she Bill? Did you see her at dinner? She was my little girl again.”

“Yeah, she was good at dinner,” Bill agreed, his eyes drifting to the door which led to the hallway which Marie had previously left through.

“She’s going to be alright, isn’t she Bill?”

“Course she will, love,” Bill smiled confidently. “It just takes time, doesn’t it Seb?”

“Yeah, it takes time.”

“Isn’t that head doctor seeing her tomorrow?” Bill asked.

An email illuminated the iPad in Sebastian’s hands. Eerily it was from Dr Colton, confirming their appointment time of six in the evening. As a side note he asked at the base of the message if security would need to be present.

Sebastian felt sick. He had no idea how Marie would react to having her freedom revoked but he doubted she’d take the news well. She’d hate him for having a hand in it but what choice did he have? She needed help.

“Yes, the appointment is at six.”

Bill nodded as he drained the last remnants of beer from his tin.

“We’ll get her right, love,” he winked affectionately at his wife. “Just you see.”

*

Marie tried to sleep but each time she closed her eyes she saw the image of the man in the navy coat gazing up at her from the iPad. So he was real. He must have been else how could there have been a news story about him? And Sebastian had read the story too, even commented on it, it hadn’t existed only in her imagination.

It all meant that she wasn’t going mad, that the man in the navy coat really had been there at the Christmas market and had spoken to her. Moreover, it meant that Azriel was real. It had to be.

Tightening the duvet around her Marie rolled on to her side, her mind racing. She tried to focus her thoughts as the unpleasant piercing of a migraine tried to shatter through them. She pushed through the pain, desperate to find answers.

The man in the navy coat had killed himself. He’d jumped in front of a moving train and been swiftly eliminated. The thought terrified Marie. Not long ago he’d been very much alive, speaking with her. And now he was gone. But where had he gone?

Her vision began to blur as her migraine intensified and her body broke out in a cool, clammy sweat. Whilst she remained lucid she wondered what Sebastian would have said if she’d pointed out that the man in the new story was the man who had spoken to her about Azriel? Would he still think her crazy? Probably.

The most important thing was that the man in the navy coat was real. He was human, he had been alive. This comforted Marie as she’d started to question her own sanity which was most unpleasant. But now she was resolute that everything was real, all of it. Even Azriel.