36
Alfie
‘Hey, can I come in?’
Sarah’s voice was barely a whisper but somehow it roused him from his sleep.
‘Yeah. You OK?’
He was careful not to speak too loudly; he didn’t think it would be a good thing if Alice overheard them talking about her. Sarah had opted for a bizarre half-whisper, half-mime tactic.
‘Did she say anything last night?’ The tiny flicker of hope in her eyes made Alfie’s heart sink.
He shook his head. He’d known that last night was not the right time for conversation. He’d had to endure listening to Sarah’s painful attempts to get Alice to speak all afternoon, and he knew that if she couldn’t then there was absolutely no hope for him. He might have been optimistic but he definitely wasn’t stupid.
Maybe this was a chance for him to wean himself off her.
You’re getting too attached, Alfie.
No. That wasn’t it. Despite what Mr Peterson had saidand regardless of how he felt hearing her voice every day, Alfie knew that all he wanted to do was help. She was his friend. And besides, he knew what it felt like to wake up one day and feel like a different person overnight. Alfie could instantly recall the first time he’d seen his wound properly. It wasn’t so much the blood and gore of it that shocked him but the realization that something had been taken from him. Something he would never get back. It was the pain of lacking that tore him up. The knowledge that forever more he would be incomplete. It was more overwhelming than anyone could have prepared him for, so he had stayed silent last night. He needed to give her space, time to breathe and time to accept.
‘Right. Well, wish me luck. I’m going in.’
He attempted his best consolatory smile and watched her go. It was almost as though his entire being was on red alert. His ears strained to hear every sound she made, praying Alice’s voice would join in the noise.
‘Hey Al, it’s me. I’m coming in.’
Silence.
‘You OK this morning?’
Nothing.
Alfie’s heart was beating so loudly now he was scared it would drown out any potential signs of life from Alice.
Much to his dismay, all that followed was the scraping of a chair and the sound of Sarah sitting down on it.
‘I’ll let you sleep if you want, I’m just going to sit here and read for a while.’
Was she really not going to say one word, not even to her best friend?
As the day wore on, the silence became stifling. He found himself torn between getting up to distract himself andstaying put in case she decided to speak. With every wordless hour that passed, he found an unnamed sense of pressure building inside him.
Do something.
You have to do SOMETHING.
No.
He told himself the same thing over and over.
Just wait.
But he wasn’t good at waiting.
Then the idea struck him.
‘Right, ladies. I’ve got an extremely difficult crossword puzzle and it has your names written all over it.’
