‘Honestly, thank you.’ He knew the words weren’t enough, but it was the only thing he had to offer her. ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’
‘You’ll make it up to me by telling me what’s going on. As soon as you’re done eating, you’re going to sit with me and explain everything. No more excuses. I need you to help me understand, OK?’
‘OK.’
It was finally time to start facing his problems.
‘Good. Now, have another helping, you look famished.’
68
Alice
On day ten she left the flat.
It may have been in the dead of night, but still she’d done it.
One of the downsides of staying cooped up inside the flat for days at a time was that sleep became elusive. Her body clock was out of sync and she had become so used to inactivity that, by the time the sun clocked off its shift and bedtime called, Alice could do nothing but lie wide awake. For hours she would count sheep, watching the minutes crawl by on the clock. No matter how hard she prayed for sleep to come and take her, it always remained hidden and just out of reach.
In her old life Alice practically thrived on no sleep. She needed four hours maximum to be able to function at her peak, and sometimes, with the help of an extra espresso, she could manage on less than three. But then again, the old Alice was full of life. There was so much to do and so many things to achieve that when her head finally hit the pillow at the end of each day, she would instantly black out. Now she was just a shell of existence. Stuck in a constant haze of sleep-deprived lethargy, it seemedthe only activity she got was listening to the racing thoughts churning through her mind.
Go outside.
No.
Yes.
It’s pitch black.
Exactly! It’s perfect.
I can’t go outside now.
Why not?
It’s dangerous.
Is slowly rotting away alone in your flat any less dangerous?
Why wasn’t there a way to mute your own thoughts? Surely someone had invented an off switch for the brain by now?
Go on. Just for five minutes.
Try it.
This isn’t living, Alice. This is a slow death.
Perhaps it was sleep deprivation or insanity; whatever it was, before she knew it she was standing at her front door with her coat thrown over her pyjamas.
If you’re going to do it, just do it.
Her hand reached for the door handle. Her head felt dizzy with adrenaline, and every last drop of moisture had evaporated from her mouth.
‘Fuck it.’
And for the first time in ten days, Alice stepped outside her flat. The lights in the hallway flashed on and the brightness burnt her eyes.
Good God, what the hell was she doing?
