Touched (18 page)

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Authors: Malcolm Havard

BOOK: Touched
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@fear_me_now:
Am I losing my mind? Sometimes I think so. But then again, what does it matter?

 

@fear_me_now
:
My insanity is more focussed and grounded than most peoples sanity. I have purpose. I have worth

Chapter Twelve

 

Wednesday Morning

 

Dan woke to the radio alarm playing the Five Live breakfast
programme at him.

He lay in the half-light thinking, trying to distinguish what was real and what was in his dream. There was so much, so many vivid memories of the previous night. It had happened, even if it had only happened somewhere in the few kilos of brain matter in his skull. It was real to him.

He had not wanted to go to bed. He had started to feel tired some time before it had started to show and he had been unable to mask his yawns. Tess had virtually ordered him to his room.

‘What about you?’ he protested.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she had said, ‘I mean it’s hardly going to kill me is it?’

‘Tess!’

‘Well it’s not is it?’ she said laughing and shooing him out of the room.

‘But…’

‘But what?’

‘Will you…’ he began but then stopped.

‘Will I still be here tomorrow?’ she finished for him. She turned the end of her mouth down, ‘Who knows, Dan. Perhaps it would be better for your head if I wasn’t’

‘But…’

‘No buts Dan, it will be what it will be. Now go!’

Dan checked his watch. 7am. There was no point lying in any longer. He might as well go through to the shower, he wasn’t going to get any more sleep before his second alarm, the “get up” one went off at half-past.

As he went through to the shower he glanced at the lounge door. Was she still there?

The doubts resurfaced in the shower. She couldn’t be real, she just couldn’t be. This had to be his imagination spinning tales for him. But why now? He knew that this was what he had to ask himself.

Was he more worried or stressed now than he had been before? The last few weeks living with Alice were surely much worse? He had learned – or found – resilience then. On the other hand he was in shock then, shock that may have insulated him. And since then there had been the constant drip-drip of everything that had happened since; the divorce, the job situation, that lack of security, moving. He knew he was down, knew what was always lurking on the fringes of his mind when he was alone and when the drink took him to the brink. So had his mind stepped in – or stepped out?

So, he thought as the warm water washed over him, what conclusions? Was she real? Was she perhaps a real person, her disappearances and reappearances just a trick? Well, if so, it was some bloody trick. She should be on TV.

What would happen if he touched her?

Touch. Oh yes, touching. He remembered that. The closeness, the intimacy. He wanted to touch and be touched, to touch her, let’s face it, to touch Tess, to hold her. Yet he was scared to because if she was real that would mean that she was a fake, a liar, a deceiver. Wouldn’t it? But then if she wasn’t that, if she was that…that…that impossible thing, what would happen to her? Would she survive it? Would she survive the touch? Might she just go?

He turned off the water, suddenly angry. If he kept this up he would definitely go mad. He had to calm down, keep cool, ease his nerves.

Hi sighed and
towelled himself dry and put on his dressing gown and went into the lounge. At the door he hesitated, hand on handle. Decision time; was she real or just something that existed in his mind last night?

In his mind, he decided, and opened the door.

The lounge was empty. So was the kitchen.

Dan sighed again, very deeply. Was that it then? Was he OK now?

If he was, why did he feel so empty then?

Well first things first; coffee. He badly needed that early morning fix. He headed into the kitchen.

The espresso pot was on the ring. Puzzled, he picked it up. It was heavy, full of water and charged with coffee. Only the top was loose and needed screwing on properly.

‘Can’t you get a proper machine?’

Tess’s voice close to his ear made him jump and almost drop the pot.

‘One with a button I could just press? Do you know how long it’s taken me to get this far?’

She was leant against the kitchen wall, regarding him with that shy but amused expression he was getting used to.

‘Morning,’ he said, trying to recover and screwing the top firmly shut and turning the ring on, ‘You did this for me?’

‘Well I know you need your coffee in the morning,’ she said, turning to head into the lounge, ‘after your shower.’

Had he seen that? That amused, slightly guilty smile? When he was on his own he didn’t bother shutting the shower door, often wandering around the flat naked. Had she? Would he have in the same circumstances?

Well yes, of course he would have, he told himself, deciding that lying to himself was not wise considering all the rest of the tricks his mind was playing. So it was reasonable that his imaginary girlfriend would take a peek.

Whilst the coffee finished Dan made himself some toast.

‘Er…do you eat?’ he called through to the lounge, then kicked himself mentally. That was probably an insensitive thing to ask.

‘Apparently not,’ she said, ‘Nor drink. I guess that makes me the ultimate cheap date!’

Dan laughed and shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t believe this girl. He thought he had coping mechanisms but this? Amazing.

But then again she wasn’t real was she? She was just in his mind. So it was his mind that was amazing? Well hardly. Or if she was real then she was a fake, the ultimate actress.

‘Oh talking about dates,’ she called, ‘You have a text.’

Dan wandered through with his mug of coffee and munching his toast. His phone was on the table.

‘I haven’t read it.’ Tess was at the window again, looking down into the car park. It seemed to be her “thoughtful” place.

Dan picked up the phone. The text was from Jenny: ‘I’m really sorry about yesterday, and also about Monday too. I can be stupid at times. Please can you give me another chance? I think we could be really good for each other. Jen xxx’

It had been sent just after 6 am.

Well, now what, he thought. The tone was very different from anything else he had got from her and the fact that it was sent so early suggested that she was thinking about him an awful lot.

He pulled a face. That was more than he was doing. He had not thought about her once since last night. He had spent all of his time thinking about someone else.

He put the phone down on the table and took his plate back through to the kitchen.

‘Is she OK?’ Tess asked.

Dan refreshed his coffee and carried it through to the lounge.

‘Yes, she’s fine,’ he said, ‘I should go and get dressed,’ he added, wanting to change the subject.

‘Aren’t you going to reply to her?’

Dan looked uncertainly at the phone.

‘Look don’t mind me,’ she said, ‘I can hardly interfere with your life can I? At least not in that way.’

He was sure she was making a real effort to sound disinterested but her tone was slightly too light, too dismissive. Dan decided that retreating to his bedroom was the best policy.

‘I’m going to get dressed,’ he said again and went through.

It didn’t take long, not long enough perhaps he reflected. All he had to do was choose between one of his four suits and then find a shirt to go with it, which was very easy as he only had one ironed one. He made a mental note to do his ironing that night and, steeling himself, went back through to the lounge.

Tess had gone again.

He sighed, picked up his phone and keys and drained the last of his coffee. He then rinsed the mug under the tap and set it upside down on the drainer.

On his way out he paused at the lounge door. It was crazy but he felt like he needed to do it.

‘Bye Tess,’ he said, ‘See you tonight.’

Locking the flat door behind him he found himself really hoping that he would.

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, mid-morning

 

Dan, Hannah and Boris were all kept busy working on the portfolio valuation, gathering and collating comparable evidence and drafting the report. Again Dan was glad of this; it kept his mind off his problems.

Unfortunately, it also took his mind off replying to Jen, something he had intended to do as soon as he had got in. He probably wouldn’t have remembered about it at all if Hannah had herself not got a text. After she had read it she kept glancing at Dan. He caught one of these glances and briefly saw a combination of annoyance, frustration and concern all at once. He spent a full minute trying to work out what he had done to upset her before the penny dropped.

He decided he had better text back quickly before things got too frosty and decided to do it from the kitchen where he could compose a reply in private without attracting too much interest from Boris, He did, however, make a show of carrying his phone so that Hannah could see.

‘Anyone want a drink?’ he said as he got up.

‘Mines a pint,’ said Boris, ‘
Boddies.’

‘Vodka and Red Bull,’ murmured Hannah, who was entering figures into Excel.

‘So that’s a tea with one and a coffee, white, no sugar, right?’

‘You got it.’

‘We could have him back as a teaboy.’

‘Nah, we’d die of thirst. This is only the second one he’s ever made.’

‘Good point. Reckon he’s got a special reason to make one now?’

‘Maybe, maybe.’

Dan decided that a silent exit with no comment was the one likely to best preserve his dignity. He tried his best to ignore the giggles behind him.

He stood in the kitchen for a long time, not knowing quite what to say in the text. In the end he decided that dishonesty – or at least partial dishonesty, was the best policy.

He wrote: ‘Hi Jen. Sorry it’s taken me a while to reply. Don’t worry, it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s me. I think it’s a bit soon for me after my divorce. I’m also worried about the job situation. All in all I’m not at my best at the moment. I also think I might be too old and boring for you! If you want to try again though that’s fine by me. X’

Hell, he thought, that’s not a text, it’s a novel. He pressed send; four pages, not bad going.

He went back into the office, pleased with himself and sat down at his desk. He had started working again when he became aware that Hannah and Steve were staring at him.

‘What?’ he said.

‘Forget something?’ said Boris, an innocent, questioning look on his face.

Dan stared, nonplussed for a moment, then shamefacedly got back up to go and make the drinks, leaving more giggles behind him.

He had his reply before he had bought the drinks back: ‘I like you the way you are :o). Lunch tomorrow? Xxx’

Great, now what? He thought she would be put off. Oh sod it, why not?

He sent a text back: ‘Ok. 12.30? Pick you up outside your work xxx’

He really hoped he wasn’t making a big mistake.

 

Wednesday: Early Evening

 

Dan headed back home quite late and quite tired.

He found he was holding his breath as he unlocked the door and went through to the lounge. Would she be there?

She wasn’t. He took off his suit jacket and threw it on the back of one of the settees. He wandered into the kitchen and looked unenthusiastically through the kitchen cupboards and fridge, hoping that something would catch his fancy for both cooking and eating. Nothing did so he leafed through the pile of takeaway menus that arrived in his mailbox daily.

‘Oh don’t be a lazy git,’ he said to himself. He could do something quickly at a fraction of the cost of a takeaway that would be far tastier and healthier. He put some pasta onto boil and rustled up a bacon, tomato and onion sauce with some fresh herbs. With a sprinkle of parmesan and a grind of black pepper, even Dan had to admit to himself that it was pretty good.

He was just finishing the last of it when he had a thought. He checked his watch; nearly 7.30 pm. He switched the TV from the Channel 4 news to ITV1 just as the familiar theme tune began.

‘You’re a really nice guy, you know,’ said Tess from the other settee, 'but you're a little sneaky.’

He said nothing, just sighed to himself as he carried his plate through to the kitchen to do the washing up.

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Night

 

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