Before I Saw You

by Emily Houghton

  ‘I asked you the question! You’re simply doing me the honour of answering it.’

  Alice smiled.

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Can I ask you another question?’ There was such frailty in his voice that it made Alice want to bundle him up and get him inside for his own safety.

  ‘OK …’

  ‘What do you see when you look at that tree over there?’

  She saw his dark figure point in the direction of a giant gnarled oak tree standing tall in the centre of the front lawn.

  Maybe I’m not the only crazy one around here.

  ‘I’m not really sure … I just see a tree.’ Alice was starting to panic. Maybe he was insane. Was she safe? Should she run?

  ‘OK. Well, how would you describe the big tree over there?’

  Alice looked harder at the twisted branches, the flaking bark and the giant roots bursting through the earth.

  ‘Wise. Majestic. Powerful. Beautiful.’ As she spoke the words, her body began to relax. Mother Nature really was an artist.

  ‘Exactly. You don’t look at that damaged, weathered, worn-out tree and see it as flawed, do you? Our scars are simply the marks of our stories. They show we’ve lived our life, and most of all that we have survived it. Don’t hide your story away in the shadows.’

  The words hit her like bullets. She felt the ground beneath her shift as waves of emotion crashed over her one after another, relentless and unyielding. The rawness and vulnerability of his words had blindsided her. She hadn’t been prepared for it and she found herself unravelling right there and then.

  Without thinking, Alice stepped boldly out of the shadows. The orange haze of the streetlights washed over her, and she saw the old man move tentatively towards her.

  ‘Ah, just as I thought. You have a wonderful story to tell.’

  He bowed ever so slightly and then turned to leave. Alice watched his tiny figure disappear into the endless darkness. She stood there until her fingers turned numb and the sun began to rise.

  It seemed the kindness of strangers would save her once more. Maybe it was time to close the book on her old life and start a new chapter.

  69

  Alfie

  ‘Hi Alfie. Thanks for joining me today.’

  ‘No problem at all. I’m paying for it so might as well show up, right?’

  Idiot.

  Rule number one: don’t joke with therapists.

  She offered him an awkward smile at least. ‘So. It says in your notes that you’ve been suffering with depression since your accident. Is that right?’

  ‘Erm, well that’s what the doctors said.’

  That awkward smile was already becoming unbearable.

  ‘And would you agree?’

  ‘I mean, some days are harder than others. At first I thought it was just a case of me readjusting to reality. The hospital became a little family, I guess. Being without them is more difficult than I imagined.’

  ‘Them?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You said them. I was wondering if you meant anyone specifically.’

  ‘Oh, I just meant the other patients on the ward. The nurses. Everyone really.’

  ‘Have you spoken to any of them since you’ve been home? I’m sure you can still visit and check in from time to time?’

  ‘No, not really. A few people have called but … but there’s some people I can’t see.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  He wished she wouldn’t look at him like that. So innocent yet so blatantly aware there was something to be uncovered if she pushed a little more.

  ‘Well, one of them died.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. And the other?’

  ‘Well. It’s a bit of an odd situation really.’

  Could he change the subject without her knowing?

  She’s a shrink. She probably already knows you’re thinking about doing that right this second.

  ‘Go on …’

  Alfie took a deep breath. Maybe it was finally time to talk about her. Maybe this stranger, with her notepad and stern glasses, could be the one person to finally help him let her go. For so long he’d tried to bury her away, putting all thoughts of Alice in a box at the back of his mind. But no matter how hard he tried and how fiercely he fought, she always seemed to find a way out. He hadn’t spoken to a soul about her since he’d left. He was too afraid and, if he was being truthful with himself, a little embarrassed. How could anyone understand what they’d had? The experiences they had shared and the intensity of his feelings? The only person he’d confided in was Mr Peterson, and even that had left him feeling exposed and unsure.

  He’d promised his mum he would be open in these sessions. That he would use this time to release anything and everything he was holding on to. This was his chance to move forward, and he knew deep down that if he was going to do that, Alice had to be the first thing to go.

  His eyes fixed firmly on the floor by the therapist’s feet.

  ‘I met this girl … she moved into the bed next to me on the ward … her name was Alice … and I think … I think I fell in love with her …’

  70

  Alice

  Today was a big day. There was so much on the schedule Alice felt exhausted looking at it.

  Start at the top and work your way down.

  Simple.

  The schedules were only meant to be a temporary fix but now she seemed unable to live her life without them. Her midnight chat with the dog-walking stranger had set the wheels in motion. His words would play over and over in her mind, willing her to find a way to live. And so, taking inspiration from Alfie’s schedule, she’d begun by creating a very small to-do list to get her up, moving and productive again. The first few had been laughable.

  To do:

  – Eat breakfast

  – Eat lunch

  – Go to reception

  – Eat dinner

  – Message one person

  How basic could it get? But even these tiny, simple tasks felt unbelievably difficult. The anxiety that would consume her from simply walking to the lift was enough to render her speechless. Those three metres felt like three miles on some days.

  The first trip she’d taken in broad daylight had been a huge milestone. Remembering it now still sent faint shivers of anxiety through her body.

  You can do this, Alice.

  It’s just out of the door, into the lift, outside, and back up.

  Simple.

  If it was so goddam simple then why did it feel like she was about to run a marathon, blindfolded, with a gun to her head?

  It took four attempts to open the door, five to step outside, and three to actually get in the lift and down, but eventually Alice found herself at the front desk staring into the face of Rita, the new concierge.

  ‘How may I help you, Miss?’

  There was staring but no repulsion.

  Maybe she’s a very good actress.

  Or maybe she doesn’t care?

  ‘Can I help you?’ Rita prompted again.

  Alice realized that in fact she was the one who was staring blankly at this woman.

  ‘Any post for flat twenty?’

  ‘Let me check. One moment.’

  The instant her back was turned, Alice wanted to run. She could have got an emergency phone call; she could have forgotten something important upstairs. Maybe she could say she’d left the gas on?

  You are insane, Alice. Wait!

  Then, just like that, Rita was back – with no post and still no judgement on her face.

  ‘Nothing for you today, Miss Gunnersley.’

  Relief swept through her. Imagine if she’d had to take a parcel from her hand? God, no. She couldn’t stand the thought of a stranger having to touch her just yet.

  You let Alfie touch you.

  That was different.

  Was it?

  Yes. Now stop thinking about him.

  ‘Thanks.’ She’d gone before the word had actually lef
t her mouth.

  Back in the safety of the flat, she couldn’t quite believe how hard her heart was beating. The fear was still bubbling under the surface of her skin and every nerve felt as though it had been cut open and exposed. But amidst the chaos, Alice realized that buried away in the corner of her chest was a tiny shard of pride glowing ever so slightly. She’d done it. Step one on her road to recovery completed, and Alice felt like a small child who had written her name for the very first time.

  Even though the lists had grown longer and the distance she could comfortably travel had increased, the anxiety still reared its head. She decided that she didn’t really mind when people stared. She supposed if the shoe were on the other foot she’d probably do the exact same thing; curiosity was part and parcel of human nature, after all. What she couldn’t stand, however, was the pointing and the whispering. That was the stuff that hurt. At first she’d look for it everywhere, seeking out the groups of people muttering about her in their hushed tones, but after a while she resigned herself to the fact that looking for it did nothing but make it hurt more. Let them point. Let them whisper. It wasn’t nice and it probably never would be, but Alice knew she had the resolve and strength to see it, acknowledge it and move past it. In fact, she found now that these experiences, the source of her fear, were becoming her main motivation for doing something. Proving that in spite of everything she was up and living her life was a delicious victory she got to experience nearly every day.

  She’d been waiting for this next task all week. The timing had to be right as there was a lot at stake and multiple things to organize, but now it was all coming together perfectly.

  Message to Sarah BFF 29 September 07.23

  Hello! What are you doing two weeks on Saturday? Love you xxx

  Message from Sarah BFF 29 September 08.15

  You know very well that it’s my birthday! And embarrassingly at the moment we have zero plans. Who knew 33 could be so depressing! Why? You want to be my Skype date? Love you xxx

  Message to Sarah BFF 29 September 09.17

  How about you pick me up from the airport and we can have a proper date? Surprise! I got the payout. I’m coming to stay for two weeks! Happy birthday my love xxx

  Message from Sarah BFF 29 September 09.18

  Oh my God. Yes, yes, a million times yes. Unless this is a joke. In which case I will have to immediately get on a plane and kill you. I love you and can’t WAIT to see you xxx

  Alice’s smug feeling lasted about five minutes before it dawned on her. What was she going to wear? The only flesh Alice had revealed outside her own bathroom was her feet and, at a push, the bottom of her calves. If she was lucky she probably had a swimming costume stuffed into the back of her wardrobe, a pathetic souvenir from a half-arsed attempt at a triathlon about three years ago.

  Everything had happened so quickly she didn’t know if she was coming or going these days. The claim against the maintenance company had been processed surprisingly quickly. Whether or not they simply wanted to wash their hands of it, or if deep down they knew they didn’t have a leg to stand on, didn’t really matter to Alice. She’d got her payout and now she had the financial freedom to do what she wanted. First stop was always going to be a holiday to Australia.

  In a mild panic, Alice ran into her bedroom and flung open her wardrobe doors.

  Suits, suits and more suits. Mostly black, a few navy pieces and one beige cardigan. Holy shit, the situation was more dire than she’d imagined. She started to rummage through the clothes, praying that tucked away at the back somewhere would be at least one suitable outfit, when suddenly her hands clasped around something bulky.

  She reached in a little further and pulled out a plastic bag.

  What the hell?

  Alice turned the bag over and saw the neat black letters stamped across the top.

  PATIENT’S PROPERTY.

  Of course! Her hospital bag. She must have thrown it in the cupboard when she first got back home. It was a painful token of the accident and an embarrassing reminder that, without family or friends around, Alice had been forced to keep her belongings in a donated hospital bag.

  Intrigued, she peered inside.

  Toothpaste.

  Toothbrush.

  Discharge leaflets.

  Hospital slippers.

  Then she saw it. A small rectangular package, wrapped up in brown paper. Confused, Alice turned it over in her hands, looking for clues as to where it could have come from. She sat on the floor and started to unwrap it. As the last bit of paper fell away, Alice took a sharp intake of breath. In her hands she was holding a book. A puzzle book. The cover was hand-drawn in a familiar scrawl.

  Alice Gunnersley’s Very Special Book of Very Hard Puzzles

  Her heartbeat quickened. She tried to keep her mind from flashing back to the ward, to him, to his voice. She had to focus.

  Why had she not seen this before?

  Then something clicked. There was a memory. What was it?

  Of course!

  Alice reached back into the bag, frantically searching until at last she felt it. His letter. What had he said right at the end …?

  Her eyes scanned it anxiously for that one line she knew she’d seen before. YES! There it was.

  P.S. Enjoy the puzzles!

  The present she’d stuffed away and forgotten about! Alice took a few breaths, closed her eyes and held the book in her hands for a moment.

  He made this for me.

  This is a part of him in my hands, right here, right now.

  She reached for a discarded pen in one of her drawers and opened the first page. A dot-to-dot … of course! She quickly set to work, letting the pen reveal the secrets of the puzzle.

  It was the shape of an eye.

  Come on, Alfie, you can do better than this.

  She turned the next page. Another dot-to-dot.

  A very accurately drawn human heart.

  OK, this really was random. Although what was she expecting? A hidden message? She laughed to herself and carried on overleaf.

  Another dot-to-dot. No points for imagination, she thought.

  A sheep.

  Just as she was about to give up, she noticed a little note at the bottom of the page.

  Put those together and what do you get, Alice?

  There it was, clear as day on the page.

  I. LOVE. YOU.

  She felt like she hadn’t taken a breath for an eternity. She turned over to the next puzzle.

  I. STILL. LOVE. YOU.

  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Every page she turned to had a similar pattern. There it was: fifteen pages of ‘I love you’, until she reached the very last page.

  Her heart must have stopped when she saw it.

  Alice, I don’t know if I’ve made it clear enough yet, but I have completely and utterly fallen in love with you. If you feel the tiniest spark of anything towards me, please come and find me. Let’s meet, let’s talk, let’s read Harry Potter together! I will forever be hopeful. Yours, Alfie x

  Without thinking, she jumped to her feet. Her entire body vibrated as adrenaline flooded her veins. There was so much energy moving through her that she could barely think, let alone sit still. She needed to go somewhere.

  But where?

  She smiled, clocking the tiny scrawled address at the bottom of the page.

  71

  Alfie

  Alfie had known physical exertion. He’d played sport his whole life; he’d learnt to walk again, for heaven’s sake, but therapy: now that was a whole new level of tiring.

  Five sessions in and he still hadn’t wrapped his head around it. How could the hardest part of his entire recovery process involve sitting in a room for forty-five minutes talking? After every session he’d leave devoid of energy, as though someone had pulled the plug and let the life drain out of him. It required effort to simply keep his eyes open, let alone walk home from the station. But he did it. Because he’d promised he would and because ult
imately he knew it was helping.

  Today’s session had been especially difficult. Once again they’d come back round to Alfie’s incessant need to please people. To be the hero and to make people laugh. Deep-rooted patterns were being pulled up and exposed over and over again, inspected and analysed in minute detail. By the time he got home, the only thing he could think about was sitting in his wonderfully tidy flat and watching mind-numbing TV until Matty arrived. Turned out not coming home to piles of your own dirty laundry and mouldy takeaway containers really did make a difference. At last he felt settled in his flat, and he relished being able to call it home again.

  He heard the doorbell go just as he sat down on the sofa. For the first time in his entire existence, Matty had decided to show up early. He had asked to come over to talk through the weekend he wanted to plan for one of the boys’ stag parties, which, considering his early arrival, filled Alfie with dread.

  Throughout their friendship he’d never seen this side to Matty. How excited could one man get over organizing events? He’d been the same about Alfie’s birthday, although he’d known that was slightly different. His party had been a celebration of much more than just his birthday. It had marked a new start in his life. It honoured all that had been and all that was to come. Alfie had been carefully piecing the lost parts of himself back together. It wasn’t quick or easy or even enjoyable, but it had changed his world.

  ‘Sorry, Matty, I’m coming!’

  A part of him didn’t want to know what plans were being concocted, but he knew that the sooner he got wind of the ideas, the easier it would be to steer his friend off course.

  ‘I may be half robot, but I’m still a slow mover!’

  Silence.

  Strange, Alfie thought. Matty never usually missed an opportunity to come back with a hilarious insult.

  ‘Matty, you all right, mate?’

  As he came closer, he realized it wasn’t Matty at the door; the silhouette was too slight, and too female.