Hello Stranger

by West, Jade

  It was the moment of truth. The moment I pushed myself past the self-made promise to sit near to him, and actually said something. Even something pathetic. Just anything. So I did it. Mustered up the courage and spat it out before he looked away.

  “Hello,” I said.

  I said hello to the stranger.

  My heart was racing, and my breaths were fast to match, but I said it.

  I said hello to the stranger.

  My heart flew to the sky when the stranger smiled.

  “Hello,” he said right back.

  7

  Logan

  She was a burst of energy amongst the morning commuter monotony as she plonked her backside down in the seat opposite me. She blew a stray twist of hair from her forehead, and then she spoke – one simple little word accompanied by one of the brightest smiles I’d ever seen.

  “Hello.”

  It may have been one simple word, but it was more than that in the making.

  I’d seen her approaching along the aisle of the carriage and checking out every seat. I’d seen the halt in her step as she’d seen me sitting there, minding my own business with my book in my hands.

  “Hello,” I said.

  The contrast was palpable between us. Her smile was brighter than the morning sun and mine was concrete. Cold. Steadfast in its grounding.

  Yet, that contrast worked.

  It was inexplicable just how her buzz of life gelled with the overall flatness of death in my world, but it did.

  It worked. Nonsensical and illogical to the extreme – but it worked.

  She pulled a different paperback from under her arm and flicked it open on her lap. Another one well read.

  Her bookmark was in the cover, pinned tight. I could still feel the cracked leather, soft between my fingers.

  I tried to push my attention back to Master, but it wasn’t working. Not with the flicker of her eyes in my direction every time she shifted her knees.

  They coincided.

  She shifted her knees and flicked a gaze up at me every time they moved, and I felt it.

  She was nervous again. A sweet little bag of nerves beginning her day.

  I wanted to say something. I wanted to ask her how her evening had gone, and what she was reading today.

  I wanted to ask her where she was going, and why she always seemed to look like the grinning centre of a hurricane, bounding between platforms.

  I said nothing. Just kept my gaze steady on my pages and kept them turning.

  I kept my gaze steady on my pages past the line of oak trees beyond the Sunnydale viaduct, and the corner shop sign with its fresh newspaper headline on Callow road, and the five red doorways along the station at Wenton.

  I kept my gaze steady on my pages while the woman tapping on her phone stepped onboard at Eastworth, and while the man with the messy blond beard at Newstone cursed under his breath as he found his rail pass.

  I turned the pages as the elderly woman at Churchley – with the permanent scowl and the floral scarf she’d been wearing for years – stepped on by us in the carriage.

  And all the while, Chloe’s knees kept on shifting, and her eyes kept on flickering.

  Harrow drew nearer.

  Her knees shifted wider, her eyes flickered more.

  She was struggling. I could feel she was struggling – wrestling with words she wanted to say.

  And so was I.

  I was struggling too.

  She blew her hair away from her forehead as they announced the next stop was Harrow, and her knees shifted fresh, but it was me who finally bridged that gap.

  It was me who cleared my throat and asked her the question, picking just the right moment for her eyes to slam into mine.

  “What book are you reading?”

  Her smile over at me was the absolute world.

  She held up the cover, and I was shocked all over again. Genuinely shocked to the pit of me.

  “Mythago Wood by Robert Holdstock,” she said.

  I nodded, and the accompanying smile was neither cold nor concrete this time.

  The metallic blurt of the speaker hit loud. Harrow. The next station is Harrow.

  “Crap,” she mumbled, and grabbed her bag and checked her zipper was up on her sweater.

  She was up on her feet before I spoke again. I was about to put my book in my briefcase, but she didn’t hang around long enough to see.

  “Lavondyss,” I told her, as she stepped away into the aisle. “My favourite Robert Holdstock novel is Lavondyss.”

  She twisted back to face me, eyes open wide.

  “Lavondyss,” she repeated. “I love that one too.”

  I didn’t doubt it. It was written all over her face.

  “Bye,” she said.

  And with that she was off like the white rabbit, all over again.

  8

  Chloe

  I never thought he’d like Lavondyss. He looked anything but a Lavondyss kind of guy.

  I was thinking more historical fiction, or political satire. Or maybe even some non-fiction about Saturn’s rings. But not Lavondyss. No way Lavondyss.

  It just made me tingle all the more as I dashed away when we got to Harrow.

  I tried not to think about it. About him with a copy of Lavondyss in his cultured fingers. That’s how I thought of them – cultured. Long fingers, but masculine. Intelligent.

  Long, masculine, intelligent, cultured fingers with no wedding band on them.

  They moved carefully. Considered. Skilled.

  There was a whole fresh swirl of tingles as I thought about his skilled fingers on my skin.

  On my…

  No.

  No.

  I couldn’t do that.

  I couldn’t.

  Harrow District came into view, and my sweater was already half off me as I dashed into Kingsley Ward. It was Vickie on reception when I shot on past, and she laughed at me. She actually laughed out loud.

  “Easy, tiger. Do you always move everywhere at eight hundred miles per hour?”

  She had a point.

  I probably did move everywhere at eight hundred miles per hour.

  “Morning,” I said, and flashed her a wave along with a smile.

  I dumped my bag, complete with Mythago Wood, into the staffroom, and started up my workday.

  It was a good one. One full of smiles and being helpful and learning how to change bandages the right way. I was learning from Caroline, and she was funny, kind, and making the patients laugh along with her.

  I wanted to be like that. I wanted to make them all happy, even though I was nervous as hell with every breath that day.

  I thought I was in trouble when Wendy Briars beckoned me into Consulting Room 6 after my lunchbreak – but that was always my natural reaction. Uh oh, Chloe, you’re in trouble. Late nights and no sleep, and too much thinking about Pontius Pilate.

  But no, I wasn’t in trouble.

  She had some paperwork in her hands and gestured to the seat opposite her.

  “I’ve been noticing you at work,” she said, and I felt my cheeks blush.

  “You have?”

  She nodded. “Indeed, I have, and I’ve got some early reports to back up my observations.”

  I was nodding back, even though I didn’t know what the hell she was going to say to me.

  “You’re quite something,” she said, and her smile was bright. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so energetic and bubbly after ten hours on their feet.”

  My blush burned up brighter, and I looked at the fingers twisting in my lap, embarrassed.

  “I have a lot of energy, my mum always said I was a jack-in-a-box, unless I had a book in my hands.”

  “It’s a good thing in this place,” she said. “A great thing. Hence, I may see a place that we can put your bubbly nature to good use.”

  I met her eyes with mine. “A place? Like a place at the hospital?”

  She nodded again. “A role has come up. One of our palliative
care nurses is about to head off on maternity leave.” She paused. “It’s a serious position. A challenging one. And it’s something I’d want you to consider carefully, because the trainee position is new.”

  I was nodding along with her, making a jack-in-the-box of my head. “I’ll do it. Please.”

  She looked shocked. Visibly stopped in her tracks.

  “Don’t you need to know more about it?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s something I thought of, all the time I was thinking about training.”

  “Palliative care?”

  “Yeah. I watched my uncle pass away when I was twelve. The people were amazing when they helped him. They were kind and cheerful and they listened to every word he said, and they made us feel at home too, even after he was gone.”

  She was smiling. “That’s what we hope to do here, too. That’s why I asked you. Victoria said you know how to listen. How to be serious and respectful while still being bubbly and kind.”

  “She said that?” I felt a glow in my chest.

  “Yes, Chloe. She said that. It would be easy to see for myself if she hadn’t though, you light up the room.”

  She flicked through the paperwork, and began to tell me the details, and I was bobbing along, heart racing and happy, because thank you, universe, this was really it. A massive place to make a difference in the world, right at the end of people’s journeys.

  “The department is headed up by Dr Logan Hall,” she told me. “And believe me, he’s amazing. An incredible man.”

  I nodded. “Dr Logan Hall.”

  “He’s tireless and giving, and never falters on his care for people, not even for a second. You’ll get on very well with him, on that score. I just know it.”

  I knew there was a but coming. I could feel it in the air.

  Yep, there was.

  “But there are other aspects you’ll have to get used to. We all have.”

  “Other aspects?”

  She was staring right at me as she spoke. “He’s very… serious. He doesn’t speak much. Not unless it’s technical or work related. Or to a patient or their family. Around that he’s rather… stoic.”

  “Stoic,” I repeated, and realised I must sound like an echo.

  “Yes. Stoic.” She flashed another grin. “You will find out for yourself.”

  I didn’t repeat her this time.

  She flicked through the paperwork again.

  “You have a few weeks until your training on Franklin Ward starts. You will crossover with Gina seven days before she leaves.”

  “A few more weeks at Kingsley?”

  “That’s right,” she said. “And between you and me, I’d make the most of them. Dr Hall is an incredible man, but his standards are high.” She smiled again. “I’m sure you’ll live up to them.”

  I wish I were as sure as she was.

  She shuffled herself to leave, but I wasn’t ready.

  “Dr Hall?” I asked. “You say he’s serious? Does that mean he’s… mean?”

  She shook her head. “No, Chloe. I promise you he’s not mean. Just… serious.”

  “Serious. Stoic,” I said again.

  “That’s right. Serious and stoic.” She carried on gathering bits of paperwork on her clipboard. Serious and stoic, and an incredible doctor. I couldn’t wait to meet him.

  I’d heard of Franklin Ward. People said it was the terminal team, and I’d seen it signposted from main reception. It was right on the other side of the hospital. So long to my brilliant forming friendship with Vickie. But there would be more people I’d get on with. I’m sure there would be more.

  Maybe not with Dr Hall, not from the sounds of him. But I was sure there would be plenty of others who’d match my grin with their own.

  I got to my feet, but paused just a second longer, just to say one last thing I needed to say.

  “Thank you, Wendy,” I told her, hoping we really were on first name terms. “For thinking of me, I mean. That means a lot.”

  “Thank you, Chloe,” she replied. “For being someone I could think of.”

  She gestured me ahead of her, and I stepped back out into the corridor, and I was buzzing. Buzzing with a whole fresh round of life, for something important. Something new.

  “You won’t regret it,” I said, as she walked away. “I promise you, you won’t regret choosing me.”

  She turned back to face me, and her smile was still right there in place.

  “I don’t expect for a single second I will,” she said. “I just hope you won’t regret taking it.”

  9

  Logan

  I hadn’t read Lavondyss in years, but I could remember how much I’d loved it, picking it up as a teenager for the very first time.

  I’d loved Robert Holdstock novels. I’d loved the mystery of the etheric, and the energy of the words bursting from the pages. Lavondyss had consumed me. Devoured me and all my dreams.

  I wondered just how Chloe had some across those novels. Maybe she had been a teenager seeking the etheric, just like me.

  Maybe she would keep her grip on its authenticity a lot longer than I had.

  I was tired today. My legs were stiff and heavy before I’d even made it onto the ward.

  Christine had been early to care for Mum that morning, and I’d seen how she’d struggled to rouse her from sleep. My mother was slipping. Those petals were drawing thin.

  So was I.

  I put myself and my own discomfort to the side once I was on my shift, sharpening my brain to perform at its best. The ward was a storm, and I was the centre. I needed to be the calm one.

  I met new patients, scared of their road ahead, and helped them find their strength. I met old patients, accepting their roads were reaching the end, and helped them find their peace.

  All the while I struggled to find my own.

  I left the ward on time that night, for the first time I could remember. I walked down the street towards the train station, and my heart was pounding fast, even though I was slow.

  Scared.

  For the first time in years, I was scared.

  It doesn’t matter how long you think you’ve prepared for saying goodbyes, there’s still that gut-thumping shock that comes when you see them truly looming.

  I was losing my mum and I knew it. I knew it better than anyone.

  The train journey was empty without Chloe in it. The carriages were dull and flat, and the world shot by through the window at lightning speed. I couldn’t read Master. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to.

  My key was heavy in the lock back at home. My legs were every bit as heavy as they climbed the stairs.

  Olivia jumped in her seat to see me in the doorway. She slapped a hand to her chest, and then smiled.

  “Wow, Dr Hall. Didn’t expect to see you back at this time.”

  I smiled an empty smile back at her. “It’s an unusual occurrence.”

  I stepped up to Mum, and her breaths were steady, eyes closed but fluttering.

  “How has she been today?” I asked the nurse, and she joined me at the bedside.

  “Good in herself. Tired, but good. She wanted potato and broccoli for dinner.”

  I nodded. “Good choice. Thanks for delivering.”

  She waited, standing still until I spoke again.

  “Thanks Olivia, you can go now.”

  “I can stay,” she offered, but I shook my head and smiled another empty smile.

  “Enjoy an early finish for once.”

  I grabbed myself some dinner from downstairs while Mum was still sleeping. I ate it at her bedside, staring at the woman who’d been the strongest thing I’d ever known.

  She’d been the strength at my side through my battles and wars. She’d held my hand when I was scared. She’d held me close while I’d sobbed, a little boy lost to everything but her.

  Now it was my turn to be the strength at her side – in body if not in spirit. Nothing in this world would ever weaken my mother’s spirit.
>
  Her eyes flickered right onto mine when they opened. Her smile lit up her face.

  “Wasn’t expecting to find you here? Did I sleep late?”

  “No, you didn’t sleep late,” I said, “I got off work on time.”

  “Bloody hell,” she said, “It’s about time,” she laughed with a wheeze. “You work far too hard.”

  Her fingers reached out and gripped mine, hard. Her stare was full of fire, in a body of ashes.

  “You’d better find life in my death,” she told me. “I mean it, Logan. You need to live.”

  Even the words stabbed my stomach. Life. I really didn’t know what that word meant anymore.

  And it wasn’t about Mum, or watching people slip away in front of me through night and day, or having lost my grandparents, and my uncles and aunts, and almost everybody else in my family. It was about me.

  Mum’s eyes were still Mum’s eyes. They looked up at me with all the love in the world.

  “I’m going soon,” she said. “This time I’m really going.”

  My impulse was to argue, and tell her to battle on, but I didn’t. I choked on the words and stayed silent, just squeezed her hand right back.

  She gestured up at the bucket list, and took a deep breath of oxygen.

  Meet an elephant.

  Climb a mountain.

  Ride the back of a motorcycle around a sharp corner.

  Put my toes in the sea.

  Get a daughter-in-law.

  “I want to see the sea,” she told me. “I want to hear the waves and taste the salt in the air.”

  I nodded. “We can do that.”

  She smiled her devilish smile. “Let’s do the bloody crossword first.”

  I was already picking up the paper.

  We worked through the clues and talked about my day, and Mum recounted some family memory of Auntie Jennie down at Weston beach one summer that had her cackling and had me laughing along. She asked me how I was feeling and I shrugged her off with a good, even though my legs were still aching and my chest was tight.

  I got her meds down from the shelf, and helped her take them. I got her hot water bottle and snuggled her under the duvet, and settled her down for her sleep.