The Hangover

by Emma Nichols

  Eva stared at the picture in her hand. The man looked older than she had expected. His hair, which had been thick and fair in the picture of him holding her as a child, looked wispy, grey and unkempt. His skin had a ruddy, weathered complexion. She picked up another, this time, a close-up of his face. Eva studied the glassy, vacant expression in the dark grey eyes staring out at her from the paper. Slowly, she placed the image back down on the table and lifted her eyes. Mitch was staring at her with a more solemn expression than when she had handed over the files and received her coffee.

  ‘Where is he?’ Eva asked. He, her father, didn’t warrant the sadness Eva felt gripping her body, but it had hit her anyway. She breathed in deeply, bracing herself for the information Mitch had gathered.

  Mitch stalled, and instead of answering the question directly, picked up the sheet of paper from the table and started reading, from the beginning. ‘David Reece Adams, born in Wales, 13th June 1951, right?’ She said, confirming the details she knew to be true. Eva’s eyes blinked away the wetness forming on her eyelashes. She hadn’t realised her father had a middle name. Mitch continued. ‘He left the Army, a war veteran, in 91, about five years short of his end of service date. He lost his lower right leg in Desert Storm and was discharged nine months later. He went back to Cardiff, but struggled to find work, got into a bit of trouble - theft, alcohol, fighting - and ended up inside for a bit. After his release he disappeared for a while, but then turned up at a hostel in London…’ Mitch looked at another piece of paper… ‘Yeah, Christmas 2011. He’s been on social services radar,’ she said, looking up as she put the paper down. ‘You’re lucky. His record made him easier to track down,’ she added.

  Eva sat back in the chair and felt the wooden slats poke her in the back. She hadn’t known what to expect, but her heart seemed to have stopped pumping the blood around her body. The prospect of finding her father had been one thing, but the idea of actually seeing him, that was something else altogether.

  ‘You okay?’ Mitch asked, noticing Eva’s face pale. She reached across and placed her hand on Eva’s arm. Her grip was stronger than her slight build would have intimated, and her touch was cold.

  The pressure shook Eva from her reverie. She breathed deeply, her eyes darting from the picture of her aged father to the notes Mitch had just read out. ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ Eva said, eventually.

  ‘Want another coffee?’ Mitch asked, already raising her arm to attract the attention of the woman she clearly knew. ‘Thanks Estha,’ she said with the same beaming smile as earlier.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Estha responded, a soothing smile appearing on her face as she glanced across at Eva. She placed the coffees on the table, turned and departed before Eva could think to respond.

  ‘So, what are you going to do next?’ Mitch asked. Her job was officially done, but she was intrigued as to what Eva would now do with the information.

  ‘I need to see him.’ Eva responded, automatically. ‘Where exactly is he?’ she asked, afraid of the response.

  ‘He was sleeping on the street.’ Mitch said. ‘These images are from under the arches at Charing Cross Station,’ she added.

  Eva sipped the coffee, studying the image in detail. ‘Thank you,’ she said, with sincerity. She finished the last of her coffee and stood, holding out her hand. ‘See you around,’ she said.

  Mitch stood and shook the offered hand. ‘I’m sure,’ she said with a broad grin. ‘I hope you get what you’re looking for,’ she added.

  ‘Thanks.’ Right now, Eva was very tempted to take a stiff drink, but she felt even more resolved to resist the deep-rooted urge. She had work to do, and she needed to take a trip to London.

  22.

  Eva positioned herself at a window seat in the small coffee shop that had a vantage point down to the arches. She had walked around the area several times, trying to glance at the faces of the men who adorned the small alcoves of the closed doorways. She had watched from afar, and she had walked up close, even dropping coins in the dirty plastic cups that had the simple message please help me, scribbled on the side. Some of them came and went, but those who had claimed a space in a doorway didn’t budge. She pondered whether they might still be alive, but that question was answered as the lump she observed shifted slightly. But, their faces remained covered in an attempt to keep out the bitter cold of winter. She ordered a cookie, but had no intention of eating it, hoping to hang out as long as possible before being politely asked by the owner if she had finished - a question that really meant, please leave so a paying guest can sit down! She watched intently, until her eyes were sore.

  The afternoon was drawing in. She found herself squinting through the steamy window into the darkening dusk-sky, her view of the comings and goings down by the arches becoming obscured as every minute ticked by. Wrapping the biscuit in a napkin she stood and put on her coat. She exited the café and braced herself against the chill. She would do the circuit once again, show the recent picture of her father to anyone who might be interested, and hope that he was here.

  She moved from one slumped man to another. Coming to a group of three men sat in a huddle drinking from cheap beer cans and smoking roll-ups, she stopped and took out the image. Presenting it to the group, the tiny slits of eyes and shaking heads caused a heavy feeling to settle in the pit of her stomach. She could spend days, weeks, searching. Mitch hadn’t promised he could be found here, just that he had been spotted here. Fuck. A surge of negative energy towards the happy-go-lucky PI filled her mind with irrational rage. What if the photos were a hoax? How did she manage to get so close? Where is he? Question after question bounced around Eva’s head as she pulled her collar up around her ears and carried on her search. It was only the third day of searching, she told herself, as she approached a man sitting inside a sleeping bag, with a mid-size black mongrel dog lying by his side. He, too, shook his head at the image.

  Eva walked back to her hotel room, exhausted and shivering. She had walked for hours again, and her feet were sore. She hadn’t even eaten since breakfast at the hotel. She’d given the biscuit to the man with the dog, who had apologised for not being able to help her, and he had shared it eagerly with his trusted companion. She threw off her coat and clothes and stepped into the shower, more in need of the warmth than food. As she towelled dry and pulled on a t-shirt and jeans, she opened the fridge door and stared into the mini-bar.

  *

  ‘Well, this is a treat,’ Anna said, raising her glass to clink Lauren’s. A night out had been a rare occurrence since the birth of Emilie, so to hit a club on a Saturday night was something akin to a luxury. ‘Stop yawning,’ she teased Lauren, who was fighting the sensation pulling at her jaw.

  Lauren leaned in and kissed her on the lips. ‘That’s better. I just needed something else to occupy my mouth,’ she said, in humour. ‘Shall we go and sit?’

  ‘Ha, ha. You don’t want to dance then?’ Anna teased.

  Lauren studied her lover, wondering from where she’d gotten her sudden burst of energy. ‘Maybe later,’ she said.

  Anna yawned, and Lauren nudged her. ‘It’s nice in here since it’s had a makeover,’ Anna said, perusing the neatly decorated space, nudging Lauren back.

  Lauren followed behind Anna. ‘It’s okay.’ She said. She wasn’t one for clubbing, preferring a meal at a table and an acoustic background that enabled two people to have a conversation without shouting. But she had agreed to Anna’s suggestion as a treat. So far, it wasn’t too bad. Both women made their way to the soft chairs and collapsed into the welcoming cushions. ‘I don’t think I’ll get up from here Lauren said,’ with a wry smile, before her face took on a more serious appearance.

  ‘What’s up?’ Anna said, noticing the immediate change.

  ‘I love you so much.’ Lauren said. Something in her eyes was beginning to cause Anna to feel on edge. ‘And I need to be honest with you.’ Anna’s heart was now thumping through her chest. ‘As you were with me, about Eva,’ she
offered, by way of explanation.

  Anna froze, suddenly concerned as to what was coming next. ‘Yes,’ she tried to say calmly, but the three letters got stuck on their way out of her mouth.

  ‘I kissed my nurse,’ Lauren said, watching for Anna’s response.

  Anna released the air that had stopped in her lungs, held her head in her hands and pushed back the tears that had tried to force their way out.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Lauren apologised, leaning towards her.

  ‘Thank God,’ Anna said eventually, having gained her composure. ‘I thought you were going to tell me something really serious. You scared the shit out of me,’ she said, slapping Lauren across the arm. She puffed out a couple of breaths to steady herself. As her eyes locked onto Lauren’s, a smile started to form. ‘Is that the best you’ve got,’ she said, jokingly.

  ‘I just wanted to be honest with you,’ Lauren said, taking both Anna’s hands into her own. ‘Before I…’ she paused.

  Anna sensed the seriousness in her tone again. ‘Before what?’ she asked, her voice full of concern again. She had no idea where Lauren was going with this conversation, but she needed to give her the space to get it off her chest. The emotional roller coaster was killing her though.

  ‘Before I ask you…’ Lauren swallowed deeply and focused on the hands that she was kneading to a pulp. She didn’t want to see rejection. ‘Before I ask you if you’ll consider… having another baby with me?’ Lauren’s eyes pulled up slowly. She hadn’t expected to see the trail of tears running down Anna’s face, or the beaming smile coming at her. ‘Will you?’ she asked, facing the woman she loved with all her heart and soul.

  ‘Yes.’ Anna spoke the word quietly. She closed the space between them and planted a wet lingering kiss on Lauren’s lips. Lauren soaked up the salty and wet warmth of Anna’s mouth against her own, releasing her own tears into the mix.

  ‘Hey, Lauren, Anna,’ Rosa’s voice prised them from their moment of joy.

  ‘Hi Rosa,’ Anna responded, rubbing at her eyes. She stood and pulled Rosa into her arms for a hug. ‘Long time,’ she said, before releasing her. Lauren repeated the ritual, a little more stiffly.

  Rosa’s eyes darted around the room. ‘Is Eva here?’ she asked with slight trepidation. Since finding out that Eva had a new girlfriend, she had dismissed any idea about them getting together. Her working hours hadn’t allowed her to go out in a while, so the thought of coming across Eva hadn’t occurred to her… until now. She felt torn.

  ‘No, she’s in London,’ Anna responded, before it registered that there was probably a lot that Rosa didn’t know. Rosa’s eyebrows rose and the enthusiasm with which she had greeted them died momentarily, replaced by melancholy at the news of Eva’s absence. ‘Join us,’ Anna offered.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘You on your own?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘I’m expecting someone, but not for a while,’ Rosa said, glancing at the time on her phone. She was still trying to reconcile the fact that Eva was in London. Eva never went anywhere. It had taken all her persuasive skills to get her to go on holiday for a week late in the summer. She smiled inwardly at the exhilarating time they had spent together, reverting immediately to the painful state of today as she held Anna’s gaze. ‘What’s Eva doing in London?’ The words were expressed before she could prevent them. She wanted to know the answer, but she didn’t want to appear nosy, or desperate.

  Anna and Lauren looked at each other, creating a long pause. Anna turned back towards Rosa. ‘Sit down,’ she said.

  Rosa sat, and her eyes passed from one woman to the other. ‘Is she okay?’ Rosa asked, the urgency in her tone an indication of her true feelings.

  ‘She’s searching for her father.’ Anna said. Rosa’s eyes widened. ‘I’m guessing you also didn’t know that her mum died, just before Christmas?’ Anna asked.

  Rosa gasped, a lump formed in her throat and her hands automatically covered her mouth. ‘No, I didn’t,’ she said. She could feel the shaking in her core as it extended through to her legs. If she hadn’t been sat, she would have fallen to the floor. Poor Eva. Her head was starting to spin with worry.

  ‘And…’ Anna was on a roll. She could sense Rosa’s continued affection for her best friend - love even, and she wasn’t going to let the moment pass without a few truths being told.

  ‘And what?’ Rosa held her breath. Lauren lowered her head into her hands hoping Anna wasn’t going to say what she thought she was.

  ‘And your friend Dee, punched her in the face on New Year’s Eve, because she was out drinking with a friend from work.’ Anna exaggerated the truth a little, and left out a few details that would only have only muddied the water.

  ‘What?’ Rosa’s voice rose loudly, causing heads to turn. ‘She did what?’

  ‘Yes, nearly knocked her out.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Rosa was shaking her head back and forth, incensed by the anger now coursing her veins. Had Dee put one and one together and come up with five? Is that why Dee had avoided any conversations that might have led to deeper questions being asked? Rosa could feel the fire in her belly. ‘Where in London?’ she asked, beginning to sound desperate. ‘Is she all right? I need to find her.’ Rosa said, unsure of where to put herself, as her body squirmed in the seat like a caged animal wanting to escape but not knowing how.

  ‘She’s staying at the Sumner Hotel,’ Anna said. Then a thought struck her. ‘I’m hoping she’ll be at Emilie’s christening at the end of the month. ‘Will you come?’

  Rosa’s eyes scanned the two women. She hoped she would be as happy as they looked together, one day. The possibility of seeing Eva in three-weeks time filled her with dread, and hope, simultaneously. Though it didn’t solve the immediate problem of needing to see Eva right now. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Lauren said, feeling mildly guilty that Rosa had been omitted from the guest list in the first instance. Rosa might be a new - and distant - member of her family, thanks to her mother’s marriage to Henri, but she was still family. ‘We should have invited you before now,’ she admitted.

  Rosa ignored the comment, instead allowing her mind to consider new possibilities. She would deal with Dee, but she needed to calm down first, or she would be likely to do something she would regret. How dare she? Rosa was livid, and Dee would know about that, but more importantly she needed to find Eva. ‘The Sumner,’ she confirmed. Her smile was strained, but her eyes had a sparkle to them that had been absent a moment earlier. She was already working out a plan of action.

  23.

  Eva ambled past the group of vagrant men, dropping George a latte, Ed a black coffee with two sugars, Phil a tea with milk and sugar and Jaffi a Cappuccino extra-hot. She’d come to know the men’s names in the last few days. She’d bought a bag of dog biscuits for Marco, Ed’s dog. She sat on the step next to the friendly, black and white terrier-looking scruff, amused as his tail thumped her repeatedly in the back. The men congregated around her, their interest piqued.

  ‘No luck then?’ George asked, assessing her, gripping the take-away cup in both hands, enjoying the heat, and sipping at the hot drink.

  ‘I spoke to the shelter,’ she said. ‘They recognised him, even knew his name, but they haven’t seen him since Christmas Day.’

  George nodded.

  ‘He used to come here,’ Jaffi piped up. Other than asking for a cappuccino when Eva had offered, the dark-skinned man with silver curly hair hadn’t spoken a word. ‘Kept to himself,’ he said.

  Eva felt like shouting, ‘Why the fuck didn’t you say so,’ but the old man seemed to drift in and out of moments of clarity, so the chances were this was the first time that he had remembered.

  The other men shrugged. Not one of them had recognised the photo of her father when she had showed them a week ago.

  ‘You sure Jaff?’ Ed asked.

  ‘I reckon,’ he said. ‘Used to sit in the yard-corner over there.’ He pointed in the direction of a side alley adjoi
ning the arches. ‘Didn’t speak to no one.’

  She pulled out the crumpled picture and another that had been carefully folded, unfolded the image and handed it over to Jaffi. ‘You sure?’ Eva asked.

  The older man took the paper and looked it up and down. ‘I reckon,’ he said again, handing it back, sipping at his drink.

  ‘Well, you’d know,’ George said. ‘You having been here the longest.’

  ‘When did you last see him?’ Eva asked, beginning to feel a rush of impatience.

  Jaffi pondered. It wasn’t clear whether he was searching his memories or had drifted off into another place and time. Eva waited, but her sense of urgency was causing her to fidget. ‘Two, maybe - three - weeks ago,’ he said, but Eva sensed that his concept of time, like his memory, wasn’t to be trusted. ‘Gammy leg… war vet.’ he continued, receiving vacant looks from the other three men, who were listening intently.

  Eva’s mind started to work, testing all the possibilities. He could have moved on. He could have been locked up, and he could have been hurt in some brawl. He had a history with alcohol and violence and had done a short stretch before now. She would go to the police station and check out the local hospitals. It would be too much to search the streets, so she could only hope that if he had moved on somewhere, that he moved back again soon. Eva stood, stretched out her legs, shook herself down and began to check her phone for directions. ‘I’ll be back later,’ she said. Marco whimpered as she walked away, and the men gathered in a huddle.

  *

  Rosa was shaking as she approached the Sumner Hotel. She had taken the more pleasant route through Hyde Park, making the most of the last of the winter’s daylight. She had stopped by the man sitting on the bench, with two-brimming carrier bags at his side, whose begging words drifted on the light breeze. His silver-blue eyes had drawn her in, and his tone of voice - soft and kind - had touched something deep inside her. She had reached into her purse and handed over the two-pound coin, dropping it on the cloth at his feet.