A scratch of the pen maybe? Or was that Mr Peterson rearranging his paper underwear again?
Just as he was about to try and offer more words as an olive branch, he heard something hit the lino on his side of the divide.
The puzzle book lay on the floor by his bed. In normal circumstances he would have made a sarcastic comment about respecting the disabled, but he knew he needed to tread carefully so, resourceful as ever, he used one of his crutches to drag the book closer before reaching down silently and picking it up.
He opened the book to page 136.
Alfie couldn’t stop the laughter erupting out of him. On his dot-to-dot, she’d carefully and very artistically joined the dots to spell the word ‘arsehole’.
‘Oh, I see. Well yes, of course, when it’s right in front of you like that it suddenly becomes very obvious.’
‘Goodbye, Alfie.’ The fire in her words had receded and what was left was a warm glow.
He folded the page with a sweet satisfaction. Just as he was about to tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere so there was no real need for goodbyes yet, Alfie stopped himself. Enough had been said already for today.
One step towards the end, and all that.
19
Alice
What on earth had just happened?
The feeling that overcame her was reminiscent of the wine worry that would plague her every morning after a night out at university. The dread. The panic. That neurotic feeling that screams in your ear while fear and embarrassment knock loudly on your door.
What did I do? Oh God, what did I say?
This time she couldn’t even blame Sarah for forcing her to be sociable, nor the three bottles of five-pound wine from Wetherspoons for her actions. She could have potentially forgiven herself for asking the question, for indulging him in a small bit of conversation. After all, he’d had a harrowing few nights, and if a couple of words exchanged here and there would cheer him up then it would be no more skin off her nose.
But to reach out her hand! Was she mad?
Obviously, she had made sure to use her undamaged hand, reaching over just enough so that no other part of her was revealed. But for a brief second Alice had allowed herself todo what she wanted, without restrictions or barriers holding her back.
As Alfie had placed the book in her hand, she recognized a little fluttering rising in her chest. Why was she feeling nervous about this? She told herself it was the fear of him tricking her – maybe he would grab her hand and force back the curtains to take a look at her. Hindsight would tell her the nerves were actually excitement, a deep understanding that a barrier had been crossed. Her arm was the unwittingly given olive branch.
She leafed through to page 136 and forced herself not to curse out loud.
Staring back at her was a dot-to-dot.
Of a cat.
A puzzle fit for a two-year-old.
The little shit!
She should have known this wouldn’t be straightforward. Was the court jester really going to hand over a genuinely hard puzzle to solve? No. He was going to provoke and push her to her limits. He wanted her to crack.
Not this time, Alfie.
Even though she knew saying goodbye was a ludicrous way to end the conversation, Alice wanted to stop the interaction before it got out of her control. She’d been sucked in once and she sure wasn’t going to let herself be played a second time. She’d crossed a line and her instinct was telling her to retreat immediately.
Don’t let him in, Alice.
You don’t need a friend; you need to get yourself out of here.
Her defiant independence had taken over again.Put up those walls and don’t let anyone in.
Get over yourself, Alice, it was just a laugh.The voice of her best friend drifted into her mind.
