‘They were in the car accident with me.’ He paused, as if uncertain whether to continue. ‘Ciarán and Ross. Two of my best friends. They died. I survived.’
Her cheeks burned as her face flushed with embarrassment.
‘I’m so sorry, Alfie, I should never even have asked. I just—’
‘Hey, stop that. You have a right to know who I wake you up moaning about every night.’
‘I mean … it’s not every night!’
He attempted a laugh. For some reason she felt the urge to know more, but she stayed quiet. It wasn’t her place to ask, and she’d already let her curiosity get the better of her once tonight. If he wanted to tell her more, he would.
‘I think I’ve been kidding myself that the flashbacks are getting better. There have been times when they’ve become less intense and less frequent, but then they always come back. They’re so real. So real it’s like I’m there all over again, Alice.’
The way he said her name caught in her chest, and she was filled with a rush of affection.
‘Have you spoken to … anyone about them?’
She was trying to tread carefully here.
‘By anyone, you mean a psychiatrist, right?’
She cringed at her lack of subtlety.
‘For someone that doesn’t say much, you’re very tactful when you want to be.’
‘Eurgh, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. And in answer to your very generic but specific question, yes and no. I mean, people here obviously know – the nurses do the obligatory “Are you OK?” every time they happen, plus Sharon has the hearing of a bat so there’s no fooling her. I spoke to the doctors about it briefly when they put me on antidepressants, and I’ve mentioned it in passingto my mum. But no, I haven’t spoken to anyone about themproperly. People have tried to encourage me to, but they’re bad enough to experience when I’m asleep, let alone recounting them to a stranger.’
Another stab of guilt. If Alice had been able to remember being in her accident, if she was repeatedly taken back to the time when she was almost burnt alive, then she was sure she wouldn’t want to be regaling an audience with the tale either.
This is why you don’t have more than one goddam friend any more: because you have the emotional capacity of a piece of wood.
‘I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. I didn’t even think.’
‘No, it’s fine. Unless you say sorry again and then it will be anything but fine, OK? I’ve kind of wanted to talk to you about it since the first night you pretended not to be woken up by me. You may be many things, but you are no actress.’
‘Oh, well, fuck you. I happen to have had a budding theatrical career before the whole face melting thing happened.’
‘I don’t think it’s the face melting, as you so beautifully put it, that would be the stumbling block – more like your insane stubbornness. There is no one on this earth who would be capable of giving you direction.’
She couldn’t argue with him. Digging her heels in and sticking to her guns was just what she did.
‘I’ll give you that one, but only because challenging you would confirm your accusation.’
‘You really are something else, Alice. I don’t quite know what yet, but you’re definitely something. Give me time, I’ll work you out sooner or later.’
The affection that had been sitting in her chest surged again, but this time she felt like his eyes were on her. It wassuddenly too intimate, way too personal, and she had to deflect.
‘So … do you want to talk about them? The dreams, I mean.’
She heard him rearranging himself in bed and imagined him sitting up a little straighter.
‘Most of the time it’s exactly the same: I just relive the accident. I literally go through everything that happened that night, over and over again. Sometimes there are differences, small nuances that change, but mostly it’s a detailed replay.’
She was so scared of saying the wrong thing or pushing too hard. Every word felt like a precarious step on a very thin tightrope.
‘Do you mind me asking what happened?’
