Blurred Lines: A box-set of reality bending supernatural fiction (Paranormal Tales from Wales Book 9)

by Michael Christopher Carter

  “So now we’re sure it was the exorcism that put your daughter in her coma. She must have, somehow, become disconnected from her body. She had glandular fever, didn’t she?” he looked for conformation. It froze his heart seeing the distress in her eyes, staring into the distance with needle precision.

  A man walked into the kitchen. When he saw his wife’s face he stopped abruptly.

  “Everything okay, dear?” he asked.

  The lady shook her head. “These boys have put our Karen in a coma. They said she was haunting their student house, so they exorcised her, and now she’s in a coma!” she let out a wail of despair, turning away, trembling fingers moulding her colourless lips.

  The man glared at the two boys. “What have you said to her?” He looked angry. “Come on, Stella. Karen isn’t in a coma, now is she? She was here only this afternoon. Admittedly you didn’t know who she was for most of the visit,” he muttered under his breath.

  Confusion overwhelmed them. “Mr Treharne?” Matthew enquired, but he couldn’t think who else he could be.

  “Mr Treharne used to live here. About eighteen months ago. My wife thinks Mrs Treharne is haunting us, but I don’t even think she’s dead! Not that I believe in ghosts anyway, of course. So, what have you two lads been saying to upset my wife?”

  “Sorry. Er, nothing. It’s all been a mis-understanding.”

  “She gets terribly confused, you see?” the man said. Neil and Matthew nodded quickly in unison, pushing their chairs back to leave. “Yes, we’re so, so sorry for the upset. Very sorry.”

  “Do you know where the Treharne’s live now?”

  Neil glared at Matthew. He wanted to know but it seemed callous in the circumstances.

  “In Wales. Llan something or other. Llandudno? No that’s not right. Oh, I don’t know. Please leave us in peace. I’ll have to calm down my wife now.”

  With further apologies they left the old couple in the kitchen and bid a hasty farewell. Neil reversed the car from the driveway and roared down the road. At the first layby, he pulled in abruptly. Turning off the engine, he sat back hard, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling.

  After a moment to compose himself, he tore his gaze away and looked at his friend who was staring back, eyebrows raised so high they mingled with his fringe.

  “Now what?”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  They hadn’t left Elin’s bedside once. Always one, usually two and frequently all three of them were at her side. They had different ideas for permeating her subconscious. Alis played her favourite music whilst Glenda concentrated on her sense of smell, knowing how that can often be the most evocative of the five senses. She ordered her favourite foods, as well as suntan lotion, different perfumes, and anything else they could think of to alert her.

  Emyr read. He didn’t share his daughter’s passion, but he did his best to read out loud one of the novels he found crammed into the drawers of her bedside table. He wasn’t sure if she’d already read it but didn’t suppose it mattered. He found the plot confusing, made worse by his lack of orating skill, but he hoped hearing the words would please Elin somewhere in her core.

  At the end of an exhausting day, Emyr and Alis would take turns sleeping in the dayroom. Glenda only left her daughter’s side to use the toilet, and that she managed to limit to only once a day.

  Tonight, rest was impossible despite their immense fatigue. Tomorrow would be harder, and Sunday? That might be the last chance of sleep any of them would ever get.

  “We could go straight to the hospital. I don’t know why we didn’t do that in the first place.”

  “Because we had an address we thought was right. It might be impossible to get anywhere near her in Intensive Care or wherever coma patients are treated. That’s if we knew which hospital she was even in.”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Neil admitted. “There’re three hospitals just in Swansea, and she might live closer to Aberystwyth, or Bangor, or Cardiff, or God knows…”

  The blip-blip of Neil’s phone declaring it would soon shut down due to low battery echoed alarmingly. Without it, he couldn’t make any calls to find Elin, and charging it meant returning to the house. The idea of walking past her spirit outside terrified him, and he didn’t need to ask to know how Matthew felt.

  “I’m not going there! My parents will fret if I stay in Swansea with you,” Matthew vehemently protested. “I haven’t been too well.” Staring at the floor, embarrassed, he brightened and made his own suggestion. “Why don’t you stay at mine? You can use my charger. We can use the house phone. Then tomorrow, we can drive to wherever she is from mine.” Neil nodded, happy an excuse had arrived, even though Cirencester was a lot further.

  “Great idea. We don’t want your parents to worry.”

  Matthew’s mum and dad were more than happy to have him stay, and included him in the family tradition of Friday fish and chips. “You’ll love ‘em, Neil. Better than any you can find in Swansea,” Matthew enthused. Neil wondered what was so special. He soon learned it was the enormous portion sizes.

  The unmistakable waft of vinegar reached their noses as Neil’s dad bustled into the kitchen with steaming paper parcels. “They didn’t have a jumbo cod, love. I got you two normal ones instead. Alright?” Matthew looked disappointed, appeased with an extra saveloy.

  Neil attracted concerned looks from his hosts at his tiny appetite. “Are you not keen on fish, Neil? It’s good for you; brain food.” Not deep fried in batter it’s not, Neil kept to himself. “Do you want something else? I could rustle up a sandwich if you like?” Matthew’s mum offered.

  “Thank you. I’m just not hungry. Sorry.”

  After dinner they tried a few numbers and learned Hospital switchboards were closed until morning. The porters who answered didn’t have access to patient information. They’d have to phone tomorrow.

  They didn’t remember falling asleep but must have done, because they awoke to the wonderful aroma of a full English breakfast. And when Matthew’s mum said full, she meant full. Apart from the pile of fried food on their plates was a bigger pile in hot trays in the centre of the table for seconds, thirds and even fourths.

  “I hope you slept okay, Neil,” Matthew’s dad inquired through mouthfuls of sausage and bacon. A trickle of liquid (a combination of baked bean sauce, tomato ketchup, brown sauce, and egg yolk) dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt, pooling into a nauseating stain.

  Neil uttered a polite “yes, thank you” and returned the sentiment, trying not to be mesmerised by the ever-growing blemish.

  “What are you two up to today, then? Will you give me a hand clearing the garden? I need to get things ready for spring.”

  “Sorry, Dad,” Matthew answered, unimpeded by his astonishingly full mouth. “Me and Neil have some important work to do.” His dad nodded in understanding, not bothering to inquire its nature.

  They washed the hearty breakfast down with enough coffee to keep them awake and alert for the foreseeable future. Retiring to Matthew’s room, they both flipped open their laptops.

  Having phoned the most obvious hospital choices last night and been fobbed off until today, research into possibilities had also been postponed. Tapping away at laptop keys for answers, it didn’t take either of them long to complete a comprehensive list.

  Then the inevitable task of telephoning them. Matthew sighed, resigned to making the calls. Neil wouldn’t conquer his shyness under such pressure. “Which one shall we start with?” he pondered.

  Neil shrugged. It wasn’t fair to offer an opinion as he wouldn’t be the one phoning. “Whichever you think,” he said with another shrug.

  Matthew dialled at Neil’s first shrug and was listening intently to some robotic instructions.

  “Oh, good afternoon. I’m inquiring after a friend of mine, Elin Treharne? I believe she may be in your care. Came in about six weeks ago. She’s in a coma.”

  Neil waited, breathless for any confirmation.

  “
Okay. Thank you very much,” he said, and pressed the ‘end call’ button. He looked dourly at the floor. It was an exaggeratedly despondent display for only the first phone call, so Neil wasn’t altogether surprised when his face suddenly brightened and he yelled, “Bingo!”

  “Wow. That was lucky. First call. Where is she then?”

  Matthew gave a scornful look. “Swansea. Morriston. It was the most likely, wasn’t it?”

  Neil nodded.

  “Great. We can go today then. Sort this mess out.”

  Matthew almost laughed at his friend’s grey pallor. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I’m sure.”

  They pulled into the confusing hospital car park a little before four o’clock.

  “Where the f’ing hell are we meant to park. Where are we heading, again?”

  “The receptionist said to head for Intensive Care, but added she thought she’d been moved.”

  “We’ll head there and ask. It can’t be far.”

  Parking in what a large sign declared to be ‘car park four,’ they entered the building at the nearest entrance and consulted the map on a noticeboard which greeted them.

  “I don’t believe it!” Neil exclaimed when he spotted the ‘you are here’ arrow. “We’ve parked about as far away as it’s possible to park. We may as well have walked from Gloucestershire!”

  They set off, re-consulting maps whenever they came across them. A juxtaposition of old and new greeted them in a cold and spooky corridor which must have dated from Victorian times and probably hadn’t seen a coat of paint since.

  “You okay? Do you need any help?” a friendly uniformed man asked them.

  “Er… Intensive Care. Our friend’s in a coma.”

  “That’ll be The High Dependency Unit, HDU, you’ll want. It’s up on Pembroke Ward. You’re a long way away. Follow me. I’m going that way.”

  When they arrived, breathless, outside the ward, they thanked their Sherpa profusely.

  “We wouldn’t have made it without you!”

  He grinned at them and carried on to wherever he was headed.

  They looked at one another, the magnitude of what was required of them clear in the pin-hole pupils of their steely eyes. Neil’s pitiful expression prompted Matthew. “Don’t worry. I’ll do the talking. But back me up. I may need to lie.”

  They walked to the door of the ward, surprised to find it unlocked, but it was explained when it didn’t lead anywhere directly. The corridor forked, one way required intercom clearance to enter.

  “That must be it,” Neil declared. Matthew nodded and pressed the buzzer. A lengthy thirty seconds passed before a curt voice answered.

  “Yes? May I help you?”

  “Good afternoon,” and then he added in stilted Welsh, “Prynhawn Dda. We’re here to see Miss Elin Treharne.”

  “Are you a relative?”

  “Cousins.” His mouth dried at the lie and he hoped he wouldn’t be asked to repeat himself. The tell-tale buzz/click of the door entry system promptly allowed them access. Matthew pushed it quickly before it re-locked, and then they were inside.

  They paused and shared a look of trepidation. The next room might hold the comatose body of the spirit who had haunted them for months. It was impossible not to be terrified, not least of how they’d explain their presence face to face with her family.

  “What should we say?” Neil hissed.

  “The sooner we get to the truth, the better. Come on.”

  A nurse smiled and approached them. She didn’t speak, but her raised eyebrows alluded to her inquiry.

  “Elin Treharne. Where might we find her?” Neil forced himself to speak this time. He needed to step up if he was to claim the hero’s welcome headed his way.

  “Of course,” the nurse relaxed into her reply. “The last door on the right, past that pillar and through the double doors.” She waited to check they had understood before bustling off.

  The corridor stretched infinitely ahead. The double doors growing terrifyingly until they were inches away from what lay beyond. Neil, dreading how he’d feel on the other side, pushed it hard anyway, reminding himself of some tough private eye in a film.

  A few feet from them, a man stood, gazing through a window. Behind him, on one of a row of waiting room chairs sat a girl, about their own age. A familiarity made them think she must be Elin’s sister. As they approached, she and the man stared at them, or rather through them. They didn’t know they were there for Elin.

  Neil and Matthew stopped, ready to speak, but the sight that dominated the man’s gaze now occupied theirs.

  She was there. The other side of the glass and a few feet away, but unmistakeably her. The girl they’d both seen floating outside their house. So surreal. Neil suppressed the urge to tap on the glass and say “Hi, do I know you?”

  “Who are you?” the man challenged, too haggard to be aggressive. Neil looked away from the window with a start.

  “We’re friends… of Elin’s. From University.”

  The man’s face softened, pleased the need to challenge had passed, and glad there was someone else to share his burden. Tears streaming down his face, Emyr pulled away from the impromptu hug he had besieged upon Neil.

  “Sorry. Sorry.”

  Neil’s arms remained outstretched and stiff. “No worries,” he said, relieved that their presence had been so gladly received.

  “How is she?” Matthew asked indelicately.

  Emyr simply waved his hand in Elin’s direction.

  “You can see for yourself. We’re going to lose her.” Darting his eyes away, he almost let out another sob, but sucked it back in.

  “We don’t know that, Dad. There’s still hope.” Elin’s sister squeezed his arm. An awkwardness befell Matthew and Neil. Matthew overcame it by stating their purpose.

  “There is hope. We think we know why Elin is how she is. Can we go somewhere comfortable and talk?”

  Alis and Emyr stared blankly at the boys who were supposedly Elin’s friends. They didn’t think she’d ever mentioned them, but what harm could it do to listen? With a glance towards Glenda, and seeing her transfixed, staring into Elin’s sleeping face, Emyr shrugged.

  “We can go in the family room, I suppose.”

  The four of them sat in an uncomfortable bubble. Matthew’s attempts at relieving the strain by offering a reason why Elin had slipped into a coma served only to inflate the bubble until it strained to bursting.

  “How dare you waltz in here suggesting such irrelevant nonsense? We have to come to terms with my daughter, and Alis’s wonderful sister, never waking up again, and you two buffoons arrive and suggest she’s already a ghost! She’s not dead yet for heaven’s sake!” Emyr stormed from the room, leaving them with Alis.

  “My sister has never mentioned either of you. And we’re close. Very close. I don’t know why you’ve come. Bloody trolls. Getting some sought of thrill out of this, are you? You make me sick.”

  And then they were alone.

  “That went well,” Matthew pronounced.

  Neil’s moist eyes couldn’t focus on his friend and he was too upset to speak. Forcing down the lump in his throat, “What now?” he sighed for the second time today, but this time, neither of them knew.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  “Dad! Are you all right?” Alis rushed after Emyr as she spotted him down the corridor. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. When he turned round, his face was ashen and the strain of emotion palpable in his severe countenance.

  “What are we going to do, cariad? What are we going to do if she doesn’t wake up?”

  “Auntie Sylvie, listen! I know it sounds ridiculous. And I know you and the priest both saw the ghost leave. But we’ve both seen her, Matthew and me, and we have to do something to save her. Her dad and sister won’t listen to us, but they might listen to you.”

  “You want me to come all the way to Swansea on a preposterous whim?”

  “Er… Yes. It might not be a whim, Auntie Sylvie
. And a girl’s life could be at stake. I may be able to get them to listen to you on the phone… save you coming…”

  “No. She needs to come,” Matthew insisted. He had just returned to the family room from a brief foray into the corridor in search of a vending machine. “I heard them talking. They’re convinced she’ll never wake up. They’re going to switch off her life support on Monday morning!”

  “You heard who talking?”

  “Her sister and her dad.”

  “Please, you need to come. I can drive and get you if you need. Or my dad can bring you. But we need you. Elin needs you.” There was a brief pause whilst Sylvie weighed her options.

  “I’ll come. But if we’re about to make utter fools of ourselves offending the girl’s grieving family, then I don’t want your mum or dad involved. It’ll be our little secret. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t know what time I’ll arrive in Swansea, but I’m sure it’ll be late, after ten. You may want me to speak to them tomorrow.”

  “Maybe. But it is extremely urgent.”

  Neil put his phone back in his pocket.

  “We might as well get ourselves down to the canteen,” Matthew declared. “I’m starving.”

  “Who were you talking to?”

  Emyr’s eyes darted towards Alis. He was sure Glenda must have seen the boys, and he hadn’t thought of a cover story. But he was determined his wife shouldn’t be bothered by their obscene nonsense. He dismissed them as another patient’s temporarily lost visitors, and Alis backed him up.

  Glenda accepted it, and continued her vigil, staring at her daughter, mindlessly counting down the hours until she may never be able to ever again.