Touched (15 page)

This was why a busy work day was such blessed relief. Distraction not solution and now they had stopped for a while the thoughts were back like irritating flies on a summers evening.

‘You’d be really good for her. You’re just what she needs.’ Hannah’s voice cut through the swarm.

Dan said nothing, absently flicking through the twitter feed on his phone, but was sure his face betrayed his doubts.

‘Look, she’s her own worst enemy,’ Hannah said. ‘I know what she’s like when she’s out, she gets giddy, like she is…well, she has to be friends with everyone, has to be in the
centre of things with everything revolving around her. I think it’s…’ For the second time in a few moments, Dan was sure that Hannah was mentally biting her tongue, trying to stop herself telling him something. This was confirmed when she started talking again. ‘There are things I could tell you about Jen but I won’t. Let’s just say that I know the real Jenny and just why she gets like that. She’s scared to show anyone what she’s really like. Please, please don’t give up on her just yet, OK?’

Dan was frankly astonished at this. It just didn’t fit with what he knew. But then what did he really know about Jen? Well that she was real, that was one thing. Thinking about her was far healthier than where his thoughts had been until that moment. Mentally he thanked her – and Hannah – for bringing him back to the real world.

‘Ok,’ he said, ‘I promise. Not that I think I’m actually any good to anyone at the moment. I’m about to be made redundant – again, I’m only just about solvent and…’ He paused. How the hell was he going to put this? ‘lately I’ve started to doubt my sanity,’ he eventually said.

‘Oh God help us Dan. If you’re not sane what hope is there for the rest of us?’

Tuesday Afternoon

The rest of the day was taken up with more inspections.

In the middle of the afternoon Dan got a rather plaintive text from Jen: ‘Aren’t you talking to me? :0( J x’.

This time he did reply.

‘Of course I am. Just been busy today. Thanks for last night. Did you get back OK?’ He almost pressed send but at the last moment he added an ‘x’ and then, after a few moments, two more before the message went. He then spent the next hour wondering whether he would regret them.

He didn’t check his phone until he got back to the office. There were three texts, all from Jenny. The first told him yes, she had got back fine, the second asking whether he wanted to come over that night and the last, sent twenty minutes after the second, was simply a question mark with another sad smiley.

He decided that he had better call rather than text but, even so, was rather glad when it went straight to voicemail.

‘Hi Jen, it’s Dan. Sorry, I’ve not been ignoring you just been mad busy at work, out inspecting with Hannah all day in fact. Can I take a rain check on tonight? I’d love to but I know it’s being boring but I must do some shopping tonight. I’ll try and call you later – bye!’

Ringing off, he tried to ignore both of the guilty feelings he had; that he was pleased that he didn’t really want to talk to her directly and also that he was stringing her along when really the best thing for both of them was telling her to forget it.

He left work just after 6pm, the last thing he did being to photocopy two job adverts from Estates Gazette that looked half-promising; he thought he could draft applications for them that night. His first port of call was Tesco’s though, to get all the things that he had failed to get on Sunday night.

Not hurrying, he browsed through the magazines, books and exercise gear. He also paused at the camping section. He had plenty of camping gear but seeing it had sparked an idea; perhaps he should go away next week, have a break, get away from things. Sure it was only April but the weather hadn’t been too bad in fact, with his camera, changeable weather could be ideal for some good landscape shots. Where could he go though? Wales? Maybe, Anglesey was in easy range, and not that far if the weather was horrible to retreat back to the flat. But then he’d so like to spend some more time on the West Coast of Scotland; he’d only ever been once the summer before. It would be at least a 7 hour drive though on his own, with only the car radio and CD for company.

Still he would have plenty of time so why not?

Still mulling this over, he carried on with his shopping. Once he had got everything on his list he went back and added some camping staples; savoury rice, pasta, beans and the like. He then returned to the camping section and added a lantern that was on offer, a water carrier and some batteries. All of it would come in useful at some point even if he decided not to go in the next week.

After paying he headed straight home to the flat and put his purchases away, noting that he was low on
meths for his Trangia and that he would need to visit an outdoor shop before he ventured anywhere. He then cooked a quick stir fry and settled down in front of the TV to eat it, turning to BBC2 to pick up a documentary.

He was a few minutes into the
programme and about halfway down his bowl of stir fry when he realised where the TV remote had been when he used it. It should have been on the table, where he had always left it. He was pretty sure though that he had just picked it up from the arm of the settee again.

‘Dan no! Don’t start this again!’ he said angrily to himself, ‘You left it there, you!’ He was not going to give in to the paranoia. He couldn’t afford it for one thing, changing the locks had cost him over £200. He didn’t have that sort of cash to spend, not any more. He would just have to find a cheaper way of going insane.

He could not stop his eyes flicking to the window to where the dryer should be propped. No, he realised, not propped, it would be out still. He hadn’t put the clothes away yesterday and certainly not this morning when he’d woken late and had to dash to get to work on time.

But it wasn’t out.

It wasn’t even there. And he knew where it would be without the need to look. But look he had to and there it was, tucked neatly away out of sight again behind the other settee.

Dan jumped to his feet. He felt chilled and slightly sick. What the hell was going on? What was happening to him?

Tess couldn’t have got in, she just couldn’t. The locks had been changed; she couldn’t possibly have a copy of this set. So what was the other explanation? That he was going mad of course, that he was doing all these things and not remembering that he was. So he had invented everything, including Tess.

But wait, she
was
real. She had been anyway. He had seen her picture on the M.E.N. website.

Or had he? Or had he read the story before and seen her picture and then forgotten the facts and used the picture to create his own fantasy girl? In fact hadn't he, himself been in Manchester that weekend, the weekend she had been murdered? Had he seen the headlines before he left?

He didn’t know. Nothing seemed solvable any more. His mind raced.

But then he felt the prickly sensation on the back of his neck again, the one he had felt on the street.

‘Sod it,’ he said quietly but out loud, ‘I'm not going to run from madness, I'm going to embrace it.’

He waited a few more seconds, then, taking a deep breath and much more loudly he said; ‘Hello Tess.’

There was a pause. A long pause during which time Dan was convinced that the whole world seemed to be holding its breath.

‘Hello Dan,’ said Tess.

Chapter Ten

Thursday Night

Tess walked around the far side of the other two-seater and sat down almost apologetically.

Dan just stared open mouthed, not daring to speak or even move. Tess appeared to be in the same state although there was something in the way that she sat that suggested she was more prepared for this than he was.

Dan also sat down, mainly because he was afraid if he didn’t he would fall down.

He was not sure how long they sat without speaking. It seemed an age but, when he reflected later, was probably less than a minute.

‘Well,’ she said at last, ‘here we are.’

Did he dare try his voice?

‘Yes,’ he gulped, ‘here we are indeed.’

This was crazy.
He
must be crazy. She couldn’t possibly be here, she couldn’t just have appeared. This was wrong, so wrong.

‘That looks nice,’ she said.

It was a moment before he realised that she was looking at the bowl of stir fry that he still held.

‘Oh…Yes. It’s not bad. It was just something quick I knocked up.’

This is a surreal conversation given the circumstances, he thought. He should be screaming, running from the flat, seeking medical help, instead they were discussing his culinary attempts.

‘Do you want some?’ he asked, deciding to play along with his psyche.

She frowned, then shook her head. ‘No, I don’t seem to be hungry.’ She looked slightly puzzled, as if she was trying to solve some complex problem whose answer was close but remained annoyingly just out of her reach.

Dan looked down at his bowl.

‘Oddly enough neither am I now,’ he said.

Maybe, he thought, if I get up and turn my back on her she will vanish again. Maybe that will be the easy option he also thought.

‘Excuse me a second,’ he said, getting up and walking into the kitchen. It struck him how polite he was being to someone who only existed in his imagination. She had to be something he created; there was just nowhere to hide in this flat.

He paused for a few seconds facing the sink after he had put the remains of the stir fry in the bin and put the bowl to soak. He then took a deep breath and turned around.

She was still sat in the same place.

‘What time is it?’ she asked.

‘What? Oh, it’s just after 7.30.’

‘Oh.’

‘Why?’

‘Nothing. Well, I’m just missing
Corrie. It’s not important though.’

‘Oh it’s OK. Feel free to watch it,’ he said, ‘help yourself.’

Surreal. Simply more and more surreal, he thought.

She smiled and moved her hand towards the remote but then she stopped, her hand hovering above it. It was if she was scared to touch it. She withdrew her hand, her eyes blinking rapidly. Dan
realised that she was blinking back tears.

‘Let me do it,’ he said quickly and stepped over and selected the channel using the remote.

‘Thanks,’ she said quietly. A tear did indeed escape and roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

Dan put the remote down on the arm of the settee, back where he had found it earlier. His head still spinning, he walked over to the dining room table where he kept the laptop and switched it on. Whilst it booted up he sat down at the table and watched Tess.

Tess was watching the TV but her eyes kept moving towards him. When she saw he was looking she would immediately look away, only to return a few moments later. It was astounding how on edge she was, this was a different Tess. Before she had been confident, playful even. Now she was bordering on the fearful, a scared little kitten.

Well if she was in his imagination, if he was crazy then his insanity was highly creative. He had given her personality, interests, moods.

But if she was real why wasn’t he challenging her, shouting, demanding to know why she was stalking him, what she was doing in his flat?

Because she wasn’t there, that’s why, he told himself, you
know
she’s not real.

Creating an imaginary girl was bad enough; arguing with her would be really crazy.

The laptop was on now and so he opened up his CV. Updating it would at least occupy his mind. And he could add so much more to the ‘Other Skills’ section – a vivid imagination. He could see the line he could write – I see and have conversations with imaginary young women.

He laughed.

But then stopped when he saw Tess glance at him. It wouldn't do to have the figment of his imagination thinking that he was nuts.

He tried to concentrate on his updates. He wasn't surprised to find that he couldn't.

During the commercial break on the TV he noticed Tess was staring at him.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked. Dan noticed that she seemed to have relaxed a little.

‘I’m sorting out my CV,’ he said, ‘There are a couple of jobs that have come up that I need to apply for.’

‘Need to?’

‘Yes. I’m being made redundant. Once again.’

‘Oh I’m sorry,’ she said. Then, rather quickly she added; ‘will you move? From this flat I mean?’

He shrugged. ‘Possibly. One job is local but the other is in Abu Dhabi.’

‘Oh. OK.’

Coronation Street started again and Tess settled down to watch. Dan was now sure that she was a little upset, though she still seemed less on edge than she had done at first.

Ask her, he thought, for God’s sake ask her where she’s come from. It might be like having a conversation with himself but he was half convinced that this was the only way to solve the turmoil that his mind had created.