He rattled about in the kitchen for a moment, then stepped back inside. He was grey.
“Maybe we both should get cleaned up a bit.”
I looked at him blankly, then more closely, taking in the blood splatters over his clothes and even on his face. I looked down at my hands. The backs of them had tiny droplets, like I had been using a roller with red paint and some spray had flicked off it. My trousers were splattered too. My stomach turned.
“Can I use your shower?” I asked quietly.
“Of course,” he said before retreating to the kitchen, his head down.
The heat was nice, painful too. It felt like it was scalding me in places, particularly across my burns. But that was okay, I embraced the pain, maybe I deserved it. I only have one tattoo – it’s a small one on my lower back I got when I was twenty. I remember enjoying the sensation of pain as it was carved into my skin. I stayed in the shower for quite a while. I’d have preferred to stay there and never to leave. I didn’t care about the mildew and black patches of damp around the walls, or Mike’s shavings in the sink. I was just grateful to be free, I was grateful for my life.
It was a little after half six when we were seated back together downstairs. We both had wet hair and were clutching a steaming and very strong cup of coffee each. We had on fresh clothes, a bin bag sat on the floor between us, filled with the clothes we had been wearing. They would need to be dumped somewhere.
We sipped at our cups in silence, lost in our own, dark worlds.
I nodded to the bag. “Will you ditch that gun somewhere too?”
He thought for a second. “Okay Vick, but I do want to keep it a little while, wait and see how things pan out first. Just in case there’s anything more.”
I nodded.
Mike picked up the T.V remote and flicked through to find the local channels.
“I’ll check my phone too,” I said, scooping it up after setting my coffee down. The warm caffeine felt welcome in my stomach.
There was nothing on the local news. The top story was about some local politician having said something stupid and someone from the other side taking the moral high ground, enjoying being outraged. On my phone searches it was more of the same, and an early warning the winter might transpire to be one of the worst in memory. Well I certainly had enough to worry about before that.
“Just a load of shite,” commented Mike, switching off the T.V.
We both gingerly sipped at our hot drinks.
“Are you alright?” he asked softly, turning to me.
I shrugged.
“Sorry Vicky, it’s a stupid question.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just a stupid, horrible situation we’ve found ourselves in.”
“Agreed.”
“Mike, I’ve gotta say… whatever happens – thank you.”
I felt very emotional, tears pricked at my eyelids.
“What for?”
“What for!”
I crossed over beside him and pushed the magazines and other crap onto the floor. I put a hand on his leg.
“For everything you big eejit! You’ve been brilliant, you didn’t have to do any of it either.”
He looked flushed, though it could have been the hot coffee.
“Don’t be daft Vick, you know I’d do anything for you.”
“I know,” I said. “But thank you.”
I crossed back over and took up my cup again.
“So, last night was… what’s the word… horrific,” I said glibly. “It really was.”
“It wasn’t half Vick. I didn’t expect him to do that.”
“No, me either.”
“I can’t get that picture out of my head.”
“No.”
“I don’t know what I expected to happen Vicky, to be honest.”
I nodded again, draining the end of my cup.
I was overwhelmed. Of course I was. I was devastated at the whole sorry mess. But also, selfish as it may be, I was very thankful for being alive.
“Is there anything we need to do, do you think?” I asked, yawing and covering my mouth.
“I think we’ve done what we can. If this goes tits up, probably not a lot we can do about it now. We’ve got this far. What we need the most is probably to try some sleep.”
I nodded again. “Despite all we’ve just been through, I actually think I could sleep.”
“Upstairs?”
“Yeah, please. I’ll maybe try and face going home later on – that is if we’re not in a cell.” I attempted a smile, it didn’t really work.
“Well you’re welcome here as long as you want. You know that. I’m meant to be working tomorrow… no I suppose it’s today now, but I’ll ring in. Just do whatever you want to.”
“Thanks Mike.”
I hugged him tightly.
We went to his room again and he held me. Nothing happened. I enjoyed the comfort from the closeness and tried to stay awake for a while, to savour it. We were both exhausted and soon sleep wrapped its spindly hands around us and carried us away.
51
I woke up with a gasp. Consciousness felt heavy. Much heavier than sleep. Light streamed in from outside. It felt like it should have been the middle of the night and I felt terribly disorientated. My body ached, but I was used to that now. It was the crushing tiredness. My brain felt sick of being awake and trying to direct my body from one disaster to another. I tried to force away the weight of everything that had happened, but of course it all immediately flooded back into my thoughts. In that moment it seemed like things would always feel this dark. I felt a terrible flatness and lack of hope that I had never experienced the like of before. I sat up.
Come on Vicky, you’ve come this far, it’ll pass, you’re just shattered.
Mike groaned and pulled himself up beside me, rubbing at his eyes.
“What time is it?” he croaked.
I checked my phone.
“It is… about a quarter past eleven.”
“In the morning?”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling.
He sat up
