Coma

by Emmy Ellis

  I needed her to go away. Shut up. Fuck off back home. I’d already told her I was okay. I didn’t need to hear her life story.

  “…we turned the electric off at the fuse box, but the bloody thing still kept going. So I told Albert that we needed to take the batteries out, too, else the noise, it would have affected my hearing aid, made it go all funny. So, Albert, he says…”

  I didn’t give a shit what Albert said. I didn’t care about her batteries and her smelly paint or her life. I wanted her to—

  The back door slammed, and my guts went over. Any minute now, I expected to see Barb come flying out from the side of the house, grab Mrs Albert—I didn’t know her real name—and tell her all about me. I’d be in the shit and…

  “Oh. It’s gone off.”

  “Yes, yes. It’s gone off, I must get back…”

  “Oh right, busy with your painting? What are you doing then, the kitchen? I must get my kitchen redone, you know. Albert reckons…”

  I was sweating, the sound of the alarms still in my head, even though they’d stopped screaming. I really, really needed to get back in the house and—

  “Wayne, are you coming back in? Only, the draft from that front door…”

  Barb was still there. She was calling me, and I was thinking all sorts. I had Mrs Albert in my face, and I needed to get back indoors, and I wanted to scream.

  “Ooooh, you got company? Didn’t know you had company, and if I’m not mistaken it sounds like a woman. Well I never! Got yourself a partner?”

  “Yes, got to go now.”

  I shut the door. Yes, it was rude, but I’d never get rid of her otherwise.

  Barb sat at the dining table, blowing on her alien world to dry it off. She turned to me and said, “Bloody draft from the front door blew the back one shut. Your world fell off the table. It’ll be okay once you stick the cave back on, nothing else is damaged.” She looked at me. “You okay, Wayne? Are you going to be sick?”

  I breathed in, breathed out. Scrunched my eyes shut. “I’m…uh…fine. Just felt a little peaky there for a minute.”

  “Must be this spray. Tell you what, I can go outside with it when I do the next coat.”

  I snapped my eyes open, and she smiled, gave a little laugh, said, “You’ll come with me, of course.”

  I locked the back door and slipped the keys back in my pocket. Barb went to the kitchen and switched the kettle on. I sat at the table and glued my cave to the cardboard again while waiting for her to come back. My heart slowed.

  Her hand and a cup of tea appeared over my right shoulder, and we sat, put the finishing touches on our worlds, and drank our tea.

  It was fine.

  * * * *

  It’d been a month since I’d brought Barb here. We’d established a pattern. I went to work during the week, and when I came home the house was tidy and a meal cooked, waiting. Her hair had grown about an inch long all over, though some bits were patchy, others longer in places. Tonight, when I got home, I was going to have a go at using one of those hair shavers. I’d make it all the same length, neater.

  Barb said we could have a ‘scream’ with the streaking kit I’d bought that day in Tesco.

  I felt quite content. Safe even. There had been times when Barb could have escaped, like once when I was in the bath and the doorbell rang. Barb opened the door to find Mrs Albert standing there. I sat so still in the bath, the rhythmic drip from the tap sounding so loud, poking at my brain, a tongue on a mouth ulcer.

  Shit, here we go, Barb’s going to run.

  I got out of the bath, dried myself quicker than ever before, yanked on my jogging bottoms, and almost fell down the stairs. The front door was shut, and I thought: Jesus, she’s fucking gone next door with Mrs Albert, telling her everything! But when I strode past the living room doorway, Barb and Mrs Albert were sitting on the sofa, nattering away.

  This emotional roller coaster I was on couldn’t be good for my health. The stress levels went from good to bad within seconds, and I knew, I just knew when I relaxed totally, that was when everything would go wrong.

  “Wayne! Mrs Franks from next door wondered if we wanted some of her apple pie. She’s made one too many.”

  Barb smiled at me like we knew Mrs Albert’s game, had her measure, and me, I was trying to recover from a near heart attack yet appear normal.

  “Oh. Very kind of you.” My breath came in short bursts. “I’ve just run down the stairs, you know. I’m a bit unfit.”

  “You? Unfit?’ Mrs Albert, Franks, whatever her fucking name was, laughed, then bent forward and patted the crust of the pie on the coffee table. “And it’s Dora, not Mrs Franks. We’re friends now, dear.” She moved past me to the hallway, made her way to the front door, turned, and said, “I couldn’t help but notice those models on your TV cabinet. Got a niece or nephew, have you? Isn’t it lovely when they make things for you at school? God bless them.”

  She opened the door, wrapping the fronts of her cardigan one over the other to keep the chill out.

  “Right then, Mrs Franks…”

  “Dora. Dora, dear.”

  “Right then, Dora. Many thanks for the pie.”

  “You’re most welcome. And your lovely girlfriend, too. I’ll be off, leave you two in peace.”

  I chuckled, hoping I sounded sincere.

  After closing the door, I walked into the kitchen. I found Barb at the counter with the pie.

  “Are we going to eat this after dinner, Wayne?”

  I scrunched up my nose. “Umm. I don’t like eating things other people have made. There are reasons…”

  “Me neither.”

  The pie went in the bin, and I had a momentary thought of Scott and his speeches about Africans, a pang of guilt stabbing me as it was probably a perfectly good pie.

  So, yet again, Barb hadn’t run.

  And she didn’t seem to have any intentions of doing so either.

  * * * *

  The hair shaver was pretty easy to use, and while we waited for the hair dye to work its magic, I got to thinking.

  “Don’t you ever want to go out? I mean, out to the real world again?”

  She was quiet for about ten minutes. Finally, she shrugged. “Sometimes it’d be nice to go out, get some clothes that fit me, but otherwise…not really. Weird as it sounds, I like my life here.”

  I thought she meant it, I really did. I surprised myself by saying, “Shall we go out tomorrow, it being Saturday, and get you some new clothes?”

  “I’d like that, yeah.”

  We sat quietly again.

  The anxiety inside me festered, bubbling, plopping about. The usual visions invaded my mind. Blue lights. Coppers. Handcuffs.

  Sweat trickled down my temples.

  “Wayne? Are you okay?”

  “Are your legs okay, Barb? You know, where you wet yourself that time?”

  “Of course they’re all right, Wayne. What made you ask that?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.”

  I nodded to myself and tried to smile.

  “I’m not going to run off, Wayne. I’ve had plenty of chances to do it before now and I’m still here, right? If you like, we can go to another town to shop for my clothes. Won’t see anyone we know then, will we?”

  I swallowed, my throat dry, and nodded again.

  “Okay, yeah. That’ll be great. The reason—” I took a deep breath. “The reason I get worried is because…shit, I’d be in serious trouble if you ran and told someone what I’ve done, even though you’ve decided to stay. The reason I get worried is because—I kind of like having you around, you know?”

  I’d said it. I’d gone and let it out and said how I felt.

  She smiled, put her hand on mine, and rubbed the back of it with the pad of her thumb. “That’s why I won’t run, Wayne. Because…” She leaned forward, planted a feather-light kiss on my cheek. “I like being with you, too.”

  My cheeks burned.

  Barb hugged me and stroked my face, then we we
nt to the bathroom, washed the dye off, and dried her hair. Barb messed around with it for a bit. She looked quite cool.

  A new woman.

  * * * *

  We were in the car driving to Milton Keynes. That was far enough away from where I lived not to see someone we knew. Plus, there was the shopping centre there. Barb could pick out what clothes she wanted.

  I wondered what she’d choose. I’d seen teenagers wearing some weird shit, girls included. Tracksuit bottoms with hooded tops, baseball caps like they were androgynous, as if they wanted to be the boys they hung out with. When I’d first seen Barb, she’d had jeans on and these cute boots that were fluffy. Okay, she’d looked like a thousand other girls, but now, who knew, she might pick something different. Now she was a different person, or so she said, because she felt like a different person.

  We arrived. Milton Keynes was much bigger than our town. There were so many different shops. Barb hooked her arm through mine, and we walked like we were a real couple. She pulled me into shop after shop, touched the clothes, but never asked for them.

  “Whatever you want, I’ll buy it, okay?”

  I could tell she was unsure and didn’t want to take the first step in picking up that T-Shirt. It was a size ten, powder blue, with some kind of insignia on the front. I took it from her and walked to the counter, pulling her behind me. I paid for it as she stared up at me with tears in her eyes. Handing her the bag, I paused when she glanced down in embarrassment and shuffled her feet on the fake wood flooring.

  “Thanks,” she said, so softly I almost didn’t hear her.

  “That’s okay. Really. Come on, let’s shop until we drop.”

  We left the store at a trot and spent the day putting clothes up against our bodies, posing, asking for the other’s approval.

  Loaded down with bags, we took them back to the car, and she sighed.

  “You hungry?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Let’s go and get something to eat, then. What do you fancy?”

  “A burger.”

  We ran like free spirits to the McDonalds. Sitting inside, we scoffed our Big Macs and fries, sipped the cold milkshakes. When we finished, we wandered arm in arm through the shopping precinct again. We went inside stores we’d missed before, buying a few more bits and bobs, cheeks flushed from being together.

  I’d almost forgotten that Barb might run for it. Well, I had until that security guard spotted us. Now, he kept watching us, glaring at Barb like he knew her. I was okay until then, really I was.

  He approached us and said to Barb, “Excuse me. Are you all right, love?”

  Realisation crossed her face like she knew the guy, and she went red, said, “Yes, thanks. I’m fine.”

  He frowned and observed her from under his eyebrows. “You sure?”

  “Yup. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Okay. Thought I knew you, that’s all.”

  “Knew me? I doubt it! I’m not from round here.”

  I watched Barb to see if she was appealing for help with her eyes.

  “So, you’re not Harmony Simpson then?”

  “Harmony who? Sounds like a bottle of hairspray! No, I’m Barb.”

  “Oh… Oh right. Sorry to trouble you, then.”

  We ambled away, and he was still looking at us, frowning, his hand twitching at his moustache.

  Shit. What the fuck? I couldn’t comprehend that she’d just lied to this bloke, that she still wanted to be with me, even when freedom had been handed to her on a plate.

  She laughed now as we walked faster, her hedgehog-styled head thrown back, eyes lit up.

  “That was fun.” She squealed and gripped my arm tighter. “That was a friend of my mum’s.” And she was off again, nearly wetting herself.

  “Shit, Barb. That freaked me out.”

  “Well! I told the truth. I’m Barb now, aren’t I?”

  She tugged me and skipped out of the shopping centre until I had no choice but to skip with her to the car.

  Before she got in, she stared at me over the car roof. “I need a wee!”

  Skip to the loo, my darling.

  Chapter Seven

  I was at work thinking about Barb’s mum. Barb must have told the truth when she’d said her own mother wouldn’t care that she’d gone. There’d been no newspaper coverage, nothing on the news itself, just this wall of silence. Hadn’t her mother worried? Reported it to the police, at least?

  My nerves were shot to hell, but I had to finish this account before Christmas and I only had one day left to do that. With Barb on my mind, I thought I’d go mad.

  I wanted to talk to someone and get things off my chest, but I couldn’t because I sat at my desk going through this fucking ledger for some rich old bastard who was coining it in.

  I was sweating. Things were getting to me. I could have sworn they’d come back—just a fleeting visit, checking in, touching base. I could have almost discounted it as my imagination as all I heard was, “You little prick!”

  When I looked up, Gary was in the office, so it could have been him, couldn’t it?

  He said, “Wayne’s in love.”

  I smiled. He sniggered at me. He did that a lot. He dropped a file on my desk and walked out.

  I needed to talk to Barb and ask about her mum. Maybe I should have her ring home? Oh, I didn’t know. It would mean plugging the phone back in. I might even check her mobile first, you know, see if her mum tried to get hold of her on it. What if the police were being secret about Barb going missing? I heard some people didn’t want media coverage. Also, once, on TV, I saw the police could track mobiles even when the phone was turned off.

  Shit.

  The phone could be being traced right now, right to the boot of my car. The police might have got that special number off the side of the box her phone had come in. They could be pinging her damn phone while I was here struggling with these numbers, trying to save this greedy bastard more money.

  Sweat trickled down my face.

  I got up and left my office, walked past the receptionist, and called back, “Got to nip to my car for a minute.” I smiled, waved, and hurried into the lift.

  As it descended, my stomach was even queasier.

  The doors opened. I ran out of the building towards my car, my pulse thumping in my throat. I unlocked the boot. There was my gym bag, old carrier bags, and a tool kit. My index finger snagged on something sharp, and I looked at the small droplet of blood building.

  Don’t switch it on.

  Was some force, some unseen angel, trying to warn me? Because I’d found the phone, and now it was in my hand. My body trembled, and my hands shook.

  I glanced round. Other than the locked vehicles, the car park was empty. I looked up at my office window and scanned the row of glass on my floor to see if anyone was watching me. I couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean anything, did it?

  I was going to defy them. If I switched on the phone, it would show them they couldn’t rule me. I took a deep breath, turned it on, and glanced from left to right, then up at the office windows again. No one was there, I was sure of it.

  The envelope icon flashed. I selected INBOX: eleven messages. Three from Mum, three from someone named Chanice, and five from a Sarah.

  I scrolled down and opened the first one from Mum. I almost lost my breakfast.

  Mum:

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  I’M WAITING BY THE MONUMENT. I’LL WAIT FIVE MORE MINUTES AND I’M GONE, HARMONY.

  WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? AT LEAST LET ME KNOW IF YOU’RE COMING BACK, STILL GOING TO COLLEGE. CHILD BENEFIT NEEDS TO KNOW!

  Chanice:

  HEY BAYBZ. SOZ I DIDN’T MEET U. WANT TO GO OUT TOMORROW?

  K, U IGNORING ME?

  GUESS U R. WELL, FUCK U, BITCH.

  Sarah:

  WASSUP? CHANICE SAY U NOT TALK 2 ER CUZ SHE NOT MEET U. DAT TRU?

  DID U GET MY LAST TXT?

  U IGNORING ME 2?

  SHIT. WHERE R U? WENT 2 UR
HOUSE 2DAY. UR MUM SED U DIDN’T COME HOME. U RUN AWAY? TXT BAK. DIS SO FUCKING COOL! UR MAD!

  Voicemail. Should I check that? I would, but quickly, really quickly. No one was looking, no cars had swept by, and no one knew what I was doing. I’d do it and listen to the voice of the mother who didn’t give a shit about my beautiful Barb—if she’d left a message at all.

  The voice. It was angry.

  “Harmony, I’m not going to stand for this shit, okay? Get your arse home right now!”

  “Look, have you run away? Is that it? You want some attention? I’ll give you bloody attention when you finally come home, girl, and you will!”

  New voice. Teenage girl.

  “Hey, Harm! You’re fucking crazy, girl! Your mum, she’s like, well angry that you haven’t gone home, and Chanice, she reckons you’ve been abducted by this bloke. Yeah, some bloke she said followed you two once, and she told your mum, right, and your mum, she’s like, don’t be so ridiculous, but Chanice, she…”

  Fuck. Chanice what? Chanice what? WHAT? I’d fucking swear my heart was going to give out on me.

  There was a muffled click. Mother again.

  “Look, don’t bother coming home at all now, okay? You’re a selfish little bitch just like your father. If you don’t care about me, then I don’t care about you. I no longer have a daughter, right?”

  The teenager blasted on again, out of breath, sounding excited.

  “Soz about that. My brother came in my room again. Man, he pisses me off. Anyway, Chanice is making up all sorts of shit, and your mum got called into college because of the rumours, but your mum told them you’d moved out, being over sixteen and all that shit. So, when you get the chance, ring me, yeah? Laters, bitch!”

  I turned the phone off, lobbed it back in my boot. I had to get rid of it, later, after work.

  It could be Chanice that spoiled it all, not the mother. I knew there was something about that girl when I’d been watching them. If this Chanice went to the police, they wouldn’t take her seriously, and if they did, they’d have spoken to Barb’s mum by now. She’d have put them straight, wouldn’t she?