The Inbetween Days

by Eva Woods

  “Grandma? Is...is Petey there?”

  “Aye, pet, I have him.”

  That was good. It was comforting, to think Grandma had been looking after Petey all this time. She knew she didn’t really believe this—she knew they were both just gone, vanished forever—but it made her feel better all the same. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. We’re all okay here. That’s what happens...after. It’s only in the world you have pain and accidents and people chopping your skull open.”

  “Or your chest,” said Darryl darkly. “You wouldn’t believe how long it took to get those pecs either.”

  “Can I see?” Melissa said, eagerly. Oh God. The voices of the dead were flirting in her subconscious. What kind of brain did she have that imagined these things with its dying moments? She realized why she’d hallucinated these ghostly companions for herself, as her brain clung to life, jumbled and terrified. The human mind could not imagine itself dead, switched off like a phone with its battery out. Which was what she was now, at least temporarily.

  “Grandma?”

  “We’ll be here, love. You have to go now. Say goodbye to Petey.”

  She felt a pressure in her arms, like the weight of a small boy, his sticky face pressed into her neck. His breath. But Petey had not breathed in nearly thirty years. She held him close. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

  But she knew, though he didn’t speak, that he didn’t blame her for what had happened. The dead did not have time for blame. They were just gone.

  She was panicking. “Will you be here when I wake up? If I wake up? Will you be there if I don’t?”

  “I can’t say, lovie. If you believe in things like that, I’ll always be with you. But as to what you’ll see and hear, I don’t know.”

  Wait. Wait! I’m not re—She went down, trying and failing to hold on to these last tattered remnants of herself. Of Rosie Cooke. Then she was just...nowhere.

  Daisy

  Time. Sometimes it crept along, the minute hand of the office clock seeming frozen. Sometimes it leaped and flew, and a year went by and she could barely think of anything she’d done with it. But this, sitting in the waiting room while Rosie had emergency brain surgery—this was a moment where she wanted time to both race ahead and freeze. On the one hand, if they stayed here forever, Rosie was alive and there was hope. On the other, it was excruciating sitting there with the bad coffee and plastic leather seats that molded to your bum, dwelling over and over on how Gary wasn’t even there with her, how her parents sat with three chairs between them and how Luke paced up and down, asking questions that no one knew how to answer. Her father kept stealing glances at him, and no wonder—they didn’t exactly know how to explain who he was. He had offered to go, leave them to be just family—he had nice manners—but her mother had insisted he stay. Maybe to soften the jagged edges of all the broken things that lay between the three of them. So he sat there, handsome in his navy jumper and gray jeans, working his hands over and over. Somewhere, at the bottom of Daisy’s stomach, all that information was sitting ready to be sifted through. Rosie having an affair with a married man. Being in love with him for most of her adult life. She wondered would there ever be a good time to discuss all that. Her sister’s secrets, spread out like her broken body, to be handled and poked by strangers. It wasn’t right.

  “How long did they say it would be?” her mother said. They’d lost all track of time now. It was somewhere deep into the night, dark outside, the overhead bulbs frazzling their eyes. The end of day three.

  “Three hours at least. Maybe longer.” Right now, a few rooms away, people had their hands inside Rosie’s head. They would have shaved off more of her bright red curls and sawed it open. Daisy shuddered. How did doctors do it, get past the horror of cutting through skin and bone, opening up what should have stayed hidden forever?

  Luke stood up, violently. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t...she wouldn’t have...”

  “We can’t think like that,” said her mother. “It was an accident, that’s all. Could have happened to any one of us, the way those drivers bomb along...”

  The bus driver. Daisy had barely thought about him, dimly remembering the doctor say the police weren’t going to prosecute. Because it wasn’t his fault Rosie had stepped into the road, not looking, fiddling with her phone. He wouldn’t have had time to stop. At least she had been happy in the moment. Going to meet the love of her life.

  “And where did you meet Rosie again?” said her father, suspiciously.

  “Crete. It was...a long time ago.” Luke stared at his hands. He had good hands, strong and broad. Daisy thought fleetingly of Gary’s, which she’d always found unnaturally small. And where the hell was he? Was he gone for good, like she’d told him to? Was she not engaged anymore? She’d pretty much agreed to go out with Adam, hadn’t she? But she was still wearing her ring. Everything was so confusing.

  “And you’ve seen her since then...?”

  Luke just shrugged, helpless. “Mr. Cooke, I don’t think it’s up to me to tell you the story. But I can say that I have always loved her. Always.” Luke was good at reading signals, it seemed. He motioned to the door. “I, er... I’ll just get us some teas. Give you all time to be together.” Polite. Thoughtful. Handsome. Why had Rosie ever let him go?

  When he’d gone, her father also sprang to his feet. “Bloody hospitals. Can’t stand this. Reminds me of when Mum passed.”

  “Your mother was old,” said Daisy’s mother, slightly cross. “She died playing bridge and drinking too much cream sherry. It wasn’t like this.”

  “And who’s this chap that’s suddenly turned up? Eh? Some random stranger?”

  “Rosie said his name in the emergency room,” Daisy said, feeling the weight of the story press on her. “I... Dad, I think she’d want him here. Okay? Mum asked him to stay.”

  “Alison?”

  “That’s right, Mike. I let you have your wife and child here, didn’t I, even though she’s far too young to be exposed to a situation like this.”

  “She’s Rosie’s sister.”

  “Half sister. And I can’t imagine Rosie would want the woman who stole her father at her bedside. It was very insensitive of you, Mike. But then that’s you all over. Selfish. You never thought of the impact you were having on Rosie.”

  “Oh, here we go. And you did, when you took to your bed for months and left her and Daisy to their own devices? She cut her finger off, Alison!”

  “It was grief, Mike! Not that you would understand that. You were never there!”

  “I was working! Someone had to, since you’d given up functioning. And you never thought how it was for me. I was grieving too, but I still had to keep going, put food on the table!”

  Daisy bowed her head, listening to their angry voices buzz. What was this for Rosie to wake up to? A family who hated each other, fractured down the middle?

  Shakily, she got to her feet. Find your voice, Maura had always said, when she had to do presentations. Don’t mumble, Daisy. Put your words into the world. “Mum, Dad...you need to stop this. I know you’re both worried and you’re sad over Petey, but still.”

  They both reacted as if she’d slapped them. Petey’s name had not been said out loud for years now.

  “I know, I know, I said his name, but we have to talk about it. Our family is...a disaster zone. No wonder Rosie’s a mess. No wonder I’m...” about to marry someone I don’t even like. She swallowed. “It was no one’s fault, Petey. It was a terrible accident. Not Mum’s fault, not Rosie’s. And, Mum, I know you were hurt Dad left, but it was years ago and he was just trying to be happy. It’s not Scarlett’s fault she was born. I wish you’d try and be happy too. That nice neighbor of yours...”

  “What’s that?” said her dad, suspiciously.

  Her mother wrung her hands, awkwardly. “He bought the Smiths’ old place. John. He’s...wel
l, he’s my boyfriend.” A sob burst out. “And I wish he was here with me, but I didn’t think it was right, after I’ve been such a bitch about you and Carole!”

  Daisy and her dad gaped. Finally, he said, “Bought the Smiths’ old place, eh? Done anything about that knotweed problem?”

  “Well, yes, he’s a wonderful gardener.”

  “That’s...good.” He took a deep breath. “Alison... I know I did wrong, leaving you and the girls. I just... I felt like I’d go under if I didn’t get out. I was just trying for a bit of happiness. I...I’d love it if you did the same, honestly I would.”

  “I’m...trying. I really am.”

  Daisy couldn’t believe she was hearing this.

  “I’m sorry, Ali. What a mess, eh?”

  “I’m sorry too. We mustn’t blame ourselves too much. Not many could have got through...what happened.” She turned to Daisy. “Does Rosie really...she thinks I blame her for...Petey?”

  “Well, yeah, Mum. The guilt’s been crushing her for years. You don’t think that explains all this? You don’t think that’s why, when a handsome lovely man like Luke wants her, she does her best to ruin it, because she thinks she doesn’t deserve to be happy? Why she sabotages every friendship and opportunity she ever has?”

  They were staring at her. “Darling...”

  “No, Mum. Both of you need to listen. If Rosie wakes up, we have to start again. Be a family, even if it’s a family with some extra people in it. We have to try and love each other. Because Petey is gone but we’re still here, and we have to try and live, and be happy, before it’s too late.”

  She turned. Luke was in the doorway, carrying four paper cups in his large hands. He must have heard most of it. Even the bit where she called him handsome and lovely. He blinked. “Er...tea okay for everyone?”

  Her parents took theirs with a big show of thanks, even her father urging Luke to sit down and tell them about himself, and the awkward moment had passed, and Daisy had said what she needed to. Her words had been folded back into the batter of their family. Could people change? Daisy had to believe it was possible. If her sister’s brain getting crushed wasn’t enough to heal their family, then nothing was. She just had to hope Rosie came back in order to see it.

  Daisy rested her head against the wall, a dingy beige color. Someone had come in to empty the bin, a gray-haired woman in an orange tabard. “Mind if I get past you there, darlin’?”

  “Oh! Yes, sorry.” She shuffled her chair, distracted. The small room with its old chairs, out-of-date magazines and posters about health scares, was where they were going to live out the most significant moments of their family’s history. She had a feeling that, bland as it was, she was going to be remembering it for the rest of her life.

  “Don’t you worry,” said the woman from the doorway—a cleaner, Daisy assumed, given she was flicking a duster half-heartedly over the chairs. “She’s going to be just fine. I know it. She’s got people taking care of her. On this side and the other.”

  Daisy looked up—what did she mean?—but the woman was already gone.

  Rosie

  Oh, her life. If only she’d known. It had been so beautiful. She could see that now that her memories were back. Swinging between her parents’ arms, Daisy a baby in her mum’s tummy. Daisy a red bundle in a blanket, Rosie clambering on the hospital bed to see her new sister. Long car trips on holiday, inventing an elaborate game of I Spy crossed with Wink Murder. Primary school, and having the same Sesame Street lunch box as Mel, sharing Monster Munch with her (Mel was allowed only carrot sticks). Teenagers, she and Angie, dancing round the room to the Spice Girls, practicing dance routines. Rosie belting out the final song in the school production of Blood Brothers, the audience leaping to their feet in applause, Mr. Malcolm in the wings with tears in his eyes, looking down to see both her parents there, proud faces smiling up. Her mother, a young woman, dancing her round and round the kitchen to Kylie Minogue, her red hair flying. Petey, his soft warm body snuggled up to hers in an armchair as she read him a story, Where’s Spot? University, dancing like mad with Ingrid to S Club 7, jumping up and down, sweaty and joyful, flinging their arms around each other. She and Caz sitting round their cheap dining table, rings from red wine glasses all over it, the clock showing 3:00 a.m. and still so much to say to each other. And Luke, so many memories of Luke. Pressing her lips to his neck, the pulse of his blood. The smell of his skin on that beach, hot sand under her bare feet. Oh Luke. And everyone. Her parents and Daisy and Caz and Ingrid and Angie and Mel and everyone she’d ever known. Everyone.

  “My life,” she gasped. “It was...it was so good. Why didn’t I see? Why couldn’t I?”

  “No one can, darling,” Grandma said in her ear. “Not till they’re lying where you’re lying. That’s the heartbreak of it.”

  “I wish I could tell them. I wish I could go back, do more with it. Make some kind of difference to the world.”

  “Oh pet, you did make a difference. Don’t you see? That’s what all this is for.”

  “What?”

  “All these memories. These lives you touched and you don’t even know it. Angie, she’d have married that Bryn if it weren’t for you. He’d have beaten her black-and-blue. You stopped that.”

  “Not on purpose!”

  “But even so. You made a difference.”

  Darryl’s voice said, “Ingrid, that posh bird, she married your ex, and they’ve got two kids now. That would never have happened if not for you.”

  “Oh...wouldn’t it?” Her head was spinning.

  Mr. Malcolm. “And your friend Caz, she only got that breakthrough role in the first place because you showed her the audition ad and ran lines with her, do you remember?”

  “Oh...maybe.” Too many memories, exploding like a kaleidoscope. She couldn’t grasp them, hold them in her hands.

  Melissa now. “Ella, she only came to the UK because she met Luke, because he was heartbroken over you. Her life’s different because of you, Ro-Ro. And Charlie’s.”

  “But my family, my parents...what I did to them... Petey would be alive if not for me!”

  Grandma said, “Petey would never have been born if not for you, love. Your dad didn’t want a third, but your mum was so happy...she loved having you and Daisy so much, she wanted another, and you kept asking for a little brother. Remember?”

  “Er... I don’t know...”

  “And if it weren’t for Petey, your dad wouldn’t have left, and Carole’s life would be different too. Scarlett wouldn’t be here. And think of all the things that kid’s going to do with her life. Rule the world, most likely. All because of you. That’s what you learn when you pass over, darling. None of us can exist without each other. And that’s the truth.”

  “But...what will happen now? Am I dying?”

  “We can’t say, pet.”

  “I don’t want to die! I know I thought about it, but I didn’t. I decided to try and make things better instead. I was trying to come back from it, from rock bottom.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, I’m sure! I want my life back, crappy and broken and messy as it is. I want to fix things. I want... Please, I want to see Luke again, and my parents, and my sister—both my sisters... Please. Please. I don’t want them thinking I tried to kill myself. I want to tell them what really happened. I want to go back.”

  But maybe it was too late?

  Daisy

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Gary looked different somehow. Usually he wore his tie tight to his neck, so close it must have cut off his air supply, and he never took his suit jacket off if anyone could see. But now he sat in the hospital waiting room, in his shirtsleeves, tie hanging loose, shirt crumpled, a paper cup in his hands and something resting on the seat beside him in a paper bag. “Where’ve you been? Is that...cake?”

  H
e shrugged. “I...thought one bit wouldn’t do any harm. Went to that café you’re always in.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s good, isn’t it.”

  “Best Bakewell tart I ever had.” Gary sighed. “Then I just walked about a bit. Thinking about, you know. Everything. Am I allowed to ask how she is?”

  “She got through surgery. Now we just have to wait and see if she wakes up.”

  “Oh.” He screwed up his face. “You know, I never understood it, how things were with you and Rosie. I never had anyone else growing up, just Mum and Dad.” An adored only child born late to his parents, both now dead, Gary didn’t have much by way of family. It was perhaps one of the reasons he’d inserted himself so cozily into hers.

  “She’s my sister, Gar. It doesn’t matter what she does, or how badly she behaves. If she’s sick I come running. If she needs a kidney I’ll be, like, slice here. That’s just how it works. And you don’t have the right to come between us. No one does.”

  “I know that. I’m sorry for what I said about her. It was out of line.” He heaved another deep sigh. “I’ve been put on disciplinary by Mr. Cardew.”

  “God! Why?”

  “For taking the day off. He said only blood relatives, and even then they’d have to be at death’s door.”

  “She’s in a coma! That place.”

  “I know. But it’s a good job. Good money.”

  “That isn’t everything.”

  He looked sadly at his hands. He had cake crumbs on his shirt. “Daise, what are we going to do? This wedding, it’s costing a fortune.”

  “I...” Daisy sat down. It was now or never. Life or death. Stick or twist. “Gar, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Oh Daise, no...”

  “Just let me say it.”

  “Do you have to? Please don’t.”

  “Seeing Rosie like this, almost losing her...it’s made me think. What are we doing? The way we live...up before dawn, on the train, back after dark, spending the weekends going to home improvement stores and painting the living room...we’re young. There’s so many things we haven’t done. Why are we in such a rush?”