I didn't answer myself.
I was too tired.
I left the toilets, went back to my room, and got into bed.
11
The terms 'Internet' and 'World Wide Web' are often used without any distinction. They are, however, not the same thing. The Internet is a global data communications system, an infrastructure of interconnected computer networks, linked by copper wires, fibre-optic cables, wireless connections, and so on. In contrast, the World Wide Web — a collection of interconnected documents and other resources, linked by hyperlinks and URLs — is one of the services communicated via the Internet.
Now that I was no longer in a coma, and seemingly getting back to normal, Gram had taken the opportunity to go home for a few hours so she could change her clothes and take a shower and sort out whatever needed sorting out. As Mr Kirby had said, she'd been sitting with me almost non-stop for the last seventeen days, and now, at last, she could start to relax a little.
So, for the first time since I'd woken up, I was on my own in the hospital room. And now that I was alone, I could finally get round to thinking about things.
Of course, the main thing on my mind was what Mr Kirby had called my 'accident'.
I hadn't forgotten it.
Whatever else the head injury had done to me, it hadn't caused any short- or long-term memory loss. I knew who I was, I knew what had happened to me ... and I knew that it
I could remember quite clearly the distant barked shout from above —
But what I couldn't remember very clearly — and what I was trying to remember now — was the figure I'd seen briefly in the window on the thirtieth floor, the figure who'd thrown the phone ... thrown it
It wasn't an accident.
It wasn't Ben's voice, I was pretty sure of that. Hey,
And it definitely wasn't an accident.
I closed my eyes and searched my memory, trying to bring the figure into focus, trying to see his face ... but I couldn't do it. I It was too far away. And I got the feeling that he was wearing a hood anyway, a black hooded top. Not that that meant anything. All the kids in Crow Town wear black hooded tops ... at least, all the gang kids do — black hooded tops, black track pants. It's not like it's a uniform or anything, it's just that if they all wear the same kind of clothes it makes it harder for them to be identified individually.
With my eyes still closed, and with a drifty kind of sleepiness beginning to take hold of me, I gave up trying to work out who the figure at the window was and turned my attention to the window he was leaning from. It was definitely on the thirtieth floor. Compton House has thirty floors, so the thirtieth is the top floor, and the picture in my mind clearly showed that the window was on the top floor.
The floor where Lucy lived ...
I pictured her flat, the window of her flat, and I started trying to work out the position of the window in my mind in relation to Lucy's window ... and then I started trying to remember who else lived on the thirtieth floor, and where they lived in relation to Lucy ...
But my head was getting heavier and heavier now, sleepier and sleepier ...
It was too hard to concentrate.
Too hard to see ...
Too hard to think.
I fell asleep.
I woke up suddenly, covered in sweat, with my heart pounding hard and a sleep-strangled scream in my throat.
It came out as a petrified whisper.
'It's all right, Tommy,' I heard someone say. 'It's all right...'
It took me a moment to recognize the voice, but then I heard it again — 'It was just a dream, Tommy ... you're OK now,' — and I knew it was Gram. She was sitting on the bed beside me, holding my hand.
I stared at her, breathing hard. 'Lucy ...' I whispered. 'Is she all right? Is she —?'
