by Paul Kelly
“That’s alright,” she said softly. “Nothing to worry about. You’ll be fine in a day or two and look, you have a visitor”.
Freya stood back a little, feeling very embarrassed and hoped the Sister would not mention that she was his fiancee and she didn’t ... well, not at that moment, but as she settled Robert down again in his bed, she whispered something in his ear which made the patient sit up.
“What? What was that you said? Fiancee ... Whose fiancée?”
The Sister smiled benevolently at Freya.
“He’s still a little stunned dear, but he’ll be alright in a few moments. Just take his hand. He will understand then.”
Freya sat on the edge of the bed and took Robert’s hand in hers, but she was trembling as she did so.
“I wanted to see you and to make sure you were alright,” she whispered, “The only way they would let me in to see you was if I was a relative.”
Robert turned to face her and there was anger in his eyes.
“Being my sister would have been sufficient,” he drawled, “But why did you want to see me? I had an accident. . . Why don’t people leave it like that?”
Freya was lost for words and she coughed as she tried to apologize.
“I’m sorry ... but how are you feeling? You look awful with all those bandages around your head. Why all I can see are your eyes and your mouth.”
“I’m alright,” he replied coldly, “So could you please leave me now. I think I had better get some sleep.”
Freya let Robert’s hand slip from hers as she walked away from the bed, but she was sore at heart. How could she tell this man how she felt? How could she tell him something that she didn’t even understand herself? She felt a fool as she left the hospital. She didn’t know Robert’s surname or his address ... only that he lived in the Cotswold Road area ... She knew little or nothing about him and yet she could not deny how she felt. It was all so strange and if it wasn’t so serious she would have laughed aloud. It was all so ridiculous and she wandered home, feeling and realizing that she was making a fool of herself.
The telephone sounded dead when she tried to get a line, as soon as she arrived back at the flat. That was all she needed at a time like this.
“Hello ... hello,” she called out but there was no response until a few moments later when she could hear a dull sound on the other end of the line. “Is anybody there? Hello.” she called out again.
“Yes, can I help you,” came the reply and Freya quickly asked to be connected to Northfield Hospital. I’m sorry I don’t have the number.”
“No trouble madam, I’ll connect you straight away.”
Freya waited only a few minutes before a voice came through on the other end, but again she was perplexed. It was more trouble than she had anticipated ... this phoning to enquire about a person whose name you didn’t know. In fact to enquire about a person that you didn’t know either. So again she put on the act and started to sob.
“I am sorry to trouble you, but I am most anxious about Robert, my fiancee ... He is the one who had the road accident in the Cotswold Road area and he’s in ward seven. Can you help me please?”
“Ah! yes, madam. Mr. Peterson, isn’t it? Would you like to speak to him. He is much improved since you came to see him.”
Freya was at a loss as to what to say next. She was delighted with the good news, but she knew that Robert Peterson wouldn’t welcome a visit from her.
“Well ... we’ve only been engaged for a short while and I wanted to get him some clean pyjamas and things, but I’ve lost my key to our flat. In fact I’ve only been there once and I know it’s stupid of me, but I can’t remember the number. Can you help me please?”
There was a long pause before the voice came through again.
“Certainly madam. It’s fourteen Sunrise Close. What a lovely address, I think. Is there anything else I can do for you madam?”
“Sunrise Close,” Freya replied and wondered if that was in the Cotswold Road area. “No thank you, you have been too kind already.”
“Will I tell Mr. Peterson you have called madam?”
Freya hesitated again. This acting business was hard work, she thought.
“No, please don’t do that; I want to make it a surprise, but thank you again. Good day.”
When she replaced the telephone, she ran to the bathroom and rinsed her face in cold water, before she checked the address of Sunrise Close in the street directory.
“Sunnybrook lane, Sunnybrook Road ... ah” Sunrise Close ... She had found it and it was round the corner from Cotswold Road.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Peterson of fourteen Sunrise Close, but I wish you were a little more responsive to the feelings of my heart.” she called out into the air as she danced around her little kitchen.
Later that day she heard that the hit-and-run driver had been found, but that Robert had refused to press charges, saying that he felt dizzy that day and may have fallen against the car.
Chapter Four
Freya telephoned the hospital every day for the next eight days, as she was afraid to visit Robert again, thinking he might be in the same frame of mind that he was when she last saw him and then on the ninth day she was told that he had discharged himself and the hospital wouldn’t be responsible for anything that happened to him after that.
“I think he was very low because of his accident,” a voice told Freya on the phone . . . “and also, nobody seems to have visited him in all the time he has been with us,” the voice from the hospital continued and Freya wanted to contradict that voice to say that she certainly DID visit him on that first day of his being in there, but as an afterthought, she considered it might be best to keep quiet about that. The very thought of that visit made her blush anyway and besides, she now had the name and address of her ‘fiancee’, so she could playact more easily now, even if she blushed again with embarrassment at the thought.
***
Two days later, after a long and agonizing stay away from the telephone, she met Jenny as her friend was coming on duty at the cafe and Freya was leaving. Freya preferred the evening shift, as it took her mind off the worries she had gone through recently after her divorce, but as the cafe ran two shifts, one afternoon and the other in the evening for the waitresses, the boss himself, old ‘Buggerlugs’ as they called him, did the earlier shift until noon, however she thought the shifts had to be shared. and it was her time for the afternoon
“Hi Jenny.” Freya called out as she left one of the tables, “you’ve had a busy morning, I understand from old Buggerlugs, but it hasn’t been too bad since I came on this afternoon, so you should have a reasonably quiet evening, I should imagine.”
Jenny looked glum as she took off her coat and slung it over a chair in the waitresses dressing room. Buggerlugs was the name they gave the cafe boss, Mr. Haggerstone, but he was never the bossy type, by any means. The cafe staff just thought it was an appropriate name to give him . . .
“You’re looking a bit down, Jenny. Is everything O.K?” asked Freya as Jenny past her without saying anything and Freya guessed she was having more ‘boyfriend trouble’ which put Jenny down more than anything else. “You should be alright in your shift, Jenny. I think the football team have an evening’s celebrations later on and ...” but before Freya could say another word, Jenny bucked up and ran to the mirror to check her face.
“Oh! gawd,” she exclaimed, pulling her eyelids down, “I look a mess too. I should have taken no notice of that stupid sod this morning. Giving me a line he was and how was I to know that his father didn’t own a restaurant in the West End, where I could have become manageress if I played my cards right ... I should have guessed what card game he was thinking of . . . Will I ever learn Freya?”
Freya laughed. She liked Jenny, but she was well aware of the difficulties her friend would have to
endure if she imagined that every man who looked twice at her, would be the eternal dream of her life.
“Maybe you’ll feel better later then when the team come strolling in and you can have your pick.”
“Can I borrow your lippy, darlin’? I’ve forgotten mine in the rush to get here. I hope that creep isn’t still at my flat when I get back,” added Jenny making a face in the mirror.
“You’ve been with him all afternoon then, I suppose?”
“And all night too, need you ask?”
Freya smiled again but she was worried for her friend. She knew how it was with her and Sammy Boyle when they first met. It seemed that the world was full of brightness and light in those days, but Freya didn’t want to think of those times. She left the cafe and rushed home, looking a million times at the telephone and doing nothing else. Was she repeating a ‘Jenny theme?’ ... Was she playing with fire again, she wondered, before she fell asleep on the sofa.
That evening she went for a stroll past fourteen Sunrise Close, but there were no lights in the house that she could see. Perhaps he sits in the back room somewhere, she thought ... or he may not be at home. She stayed watching the house for what seemed ages and then as she was about to go, the front door of fourteen Sunrise Close opened and a man appeared. Freya strained to see what the man looked like. Could it be ROBERT? She wasn’t sure but as he closed the door and turned into the street, she recognized him by his walk. It surprised her to realize that she knew so much of this man’s habits in the short time she had met him.
Slowly she walked up the street behind him, wondering what she should do next. She could hardly run up to him and say, “Hi, Mr. Peterson. I hope you’re feeling better,” could she? and yet, that was precisely what she wanted to do. Two minutes later, he stopped and she stopped. They both stood still for a few seconds and then Robert turned round.
“Are you following me by any chance?” he asked and Freya coughed.
“Oh! It’s you again.” he went on. “Why can’t you leave me alone. This amounts to stalking, you know and that is a criminal offence.”
Freya could feel the blood rushing to her head. She had no answer to give him. No explanation for following him. Well, none that he would understand.
“I am sorry, I was concerned for you.” she said and lowered her head.
“But I told you I was alright. Why can’t you believe me and leave me alone.” he barked and Freya began to cry. Moments later he stopped where he was.
“Hi there. No need for this. I don’t even know you and you certainly don’t know me.” he said, but he came towards Freya as he spoke and reached out his hand.
“I don’t understand you. Why are you crying?”
Freya could take no more. She turned immediately and ran as fast as she could, leaving Robert standing on the pavement with his mouth open.
When she got back to her flat she threw herself across the bed and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Five
When Freya arrived for work at the cafe the next afternoon, she was met by Mr. Haggerstone who rushed up to her before she could even get through the door.
“There’s a bloke looking for you, Freya,” he said, “but if it’s what I think it is, I don’t want any shenanigan in your work time, understand? Do what you like when you’re on your free time, but ...”
The manager’s conversation was cut short as Robert appeared in the doorway.
Freya stared at him and wanted the ground to open up under her, but he smiled.
“I should be grateful for your concern and I apologize for my rudeness last evening” he said, “but I really do not want anyone to worry about me. I am alright.”
Freya continued to stare at him and old Buggerlugs threw his hands up in the air.
“Would you two settle your differences over coffee or something.” he snapped. Don’t stand there like a couple of idiots. You’ll frighten the customers.”
“But ... “ Freya stuttered, knowing that she was on duty at that time, but old Buggerlugs waved his hands in the air again and told her he would continue serving until she settled her differences.
Robert and she sat down and again, she went scarlet as she looked at him. It was he who broke the silence.
“I can’t pretend to know what’s going on in your mind, but please, just ignore me from now on. I came to the cafe this morning as I was worried when you ran off as you did.”
Old Buggerlugs chimed in at this juncture.
“He’s been here since nine o’ clock this morning, so get yourselves settled and let’s get on with living,” he snorted sarcastically.
Freya wanted to cry, but she knew she must stay strong if she was to help Robert in any way. It was obvious he didn’t want a cry-baby. She wanted to look into his eyes and tell him how she felt; tell him that this feeling she had for him was something she had never experienced before, but would he believe her? He seemed so adamant to remain independent of any help.
“I am O.K.,” he said again, “Please believe me. I don’t need any help.”
Freya looked at him again and noticed a small scar above his eye which she guessed must have been from his accident and he touched his head as if he could tell what she was thinking. “I’m alright now that I have been discharged from hospital,” he said, but involuntarily Freya contradicted him when he said that.
“You discharged yourself,” she said and immediately realized she had given her secret away; the secret that she had been enquiring about him at the hospital and which she didn’t want him to know.
“You are incorrigible,” he snapped, “You will not give up, will you? and why are you doing this when you don’t even know me. You know nothing of my life.”
“No ... “ she said sharply, “But I WANT to know. I need to know about you as I know you are in need of help regardless of what you say.”
Robert shook his head slowly when she said that and to her surprise, he smiled at her.
“So you are some sort of a Salvationist, are you? Some sort of magician where you can sort anybody’s life and put everything into place? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, MADAM?”
Freya looked down, but she felt a strength that she hadn’t known before.
“I am a human being,” she replied, “A woman ... just that, but I can tell that something is worrying you ... upsetting you greatly and I am sorry if I made a fool of myself by thinking you might appreciate a little help”
Robert turned away from her when she said that and he looked out of the cafe window.”
“Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked and Buggerlugs Haggerstone, who had been listening to everything that was being said, threw his arms in the air.
“My God, will I ever get off duty,” he screamed and Freya got up from where she was sitting to apologize to Robert.
“No ...no ...no,” Old Buggerlugs called out, “Who am I to interfere with young love?” and with that he stomped his way into the back room of the cafe leaving Freya and Robert alone. “I’ll bring the coffees,” he shouted from the distance.
***
Buggerlugs busied himself around the cafe whilst Robert and Freya sipped their drinks in silence for quite some time before either of them spoke.
“You told me your name was Freya. Is that right?” asked Robert and Freya was delighted that he remembered her name when she had only told him casually when she thought he might need some help when she first saw him in the cafe on that ‘fateful’ night when he didn’t want to know her.
“Yes,” she replied “And you told me your name was Robert, yes?”
“You have a good memory,” he commented without making any suggestion that he too was rather proficient in that score.
“Thank you, Freya,” he said, “and I do appreciate what you are trying to do, but with the greatest respect, you are wasting your time.
”
Freya dried her lips with her serviette.
“I am sorry,” she said, making her apology softly, “I thought I would be able to help.”
“But you don’t know anything about me, as I have already said.”
Robert was about to leave the cafe when he said that, but Freya put her hand on his arm.
“There is something deeply troubling you. I know that much from the state you were in when I first saw you and anyone would have offered to help.”
Robert looked into her eyes.
“I have multiple sclerosis,” he said slowly, “and probably that’s why you thought I was drunk a short time ago, but I don’t want any sympathy. Lots of people suffer from this ... this disability. It is not a disease.”
“I have a friend who suffers with the same ... disability, but she can laugh with me and she doesn’t push me away,” added Freya as she shrugged her shoulders giving the impression that she couldn’t have cared less what Robert had.
Robert got up to leave, but he tottered slightly as he stood and Freya put her hand out to help him. He shook his head slowly.
“It is strange that a female should offer to help me. I would never have expected that,” he announced and Freya raised her eyebrows.
“A female,” she enquired, Why? Why do you say that? Are you gay?”
“No ... no,” he replied, “It might have been better if I was gay.”
“I don’t understand.”
“As I have said I have MS and my condition has been greatly aggravated by a female on two occasions, that’s why.”
Freya rose from her seat and Mr. Haggerstone came rushing over to the table.
“Sir,” she said to him as he approached her with a serviette draped across his arm, “Sir, I am no longer able to work today. It is essential that I stay with my friend and I will return tomorrow, if that is alright.”
Haggerstone looked perplexed for a few seconds, before he nodded and smiled his agreement, without telling Freya that he had been listening to everything that the pair had spoken . . .
