The Last Thing I Remember Page 14

  Crap.

  Now all I want to do is cry.

  I’m trying, Mr Malin. I’m trying with every sinew of my body to get my hand to move. Nothing happens. I try to feel with my fingers. Feel a sheet perhaps, a cool smooth cotton sheet under my fingers. If I try to open my eyelids, just a millimetre, I might see my dad. Or the nurses. Or Kelly. If I just try really hard I could get back. But nothing happens. I feel nothing.

  I’ve lost myself.

  Dark.

  Down.

  Despair.

  Screaming.

  And then the tapping begins.

  Tap, tap-tap, tap. Tap, tap-tap, tap.

  ‘Sarrrrrraaaahhhh. Wake up, little girl. I need my fucking money. Where is it?’

  Sarrrrrrraaaahhhhh.

  Tap, tap-tap, tap.

  34

  Kelly

  Day Six – 6 p.m.

  I’m parked in Sarah’s room and I’m not fucking moving. That weirdo Ash was in here earlier. He waited until they’d all gone off then he snuck back. I fucking saw him do it. So I came in. And I was like, ‘What you looking at?’ And he was like, ‘A right bolshie little kid is what. Get the fuck out of here.’ And I was like, ‘The nurses told me to come in so I’m staying.’ And he started coming over in a like threatening way. You know, like he was hard. And I was about to square up to him and all that but then I thought if he’s anything like Adam he will just punch me in the face. I’m not even lying. So I went and got Beth. And she went in there and told him it was time to leave. I think she knows he’s up to something. And when he left I was like, ‘Byyeee.’ And I waved. And he said, ‘Lovely to see you, nurse’, and he gave her a big old smile. And he sort of sauntered down the corridor as slow as you like. And Beth said he was a twat, which was funny. And she said that I had bigger balls than him. And I told her I learned what to do about bullies in my self-esteem classes. The ones I did with Sarah. I never told anyone at school I was going. They’d have thought I was weird. I only told Clare and she said it was like a total loser thing to do. But that was around the time that she was getting pissed off with me anyway because of Sarah and all that stuff about my hair. Our hair.

  Sarah said even if I was much younger than everyone else it was still worth going and she knew this boy who was still at school and who was being bullied and he had been, not to that exact one but something nearly the same, and he had said it was definitely worth going. When I look back now, though, I realise that Sarah actually wanted to go for herself, not just for me. When we first went I thought she was like the odd one out. I thought everyone would be thinking ‘what’s she doing here?’ cos she’s pretty and really good at her job and everything. I thought she was just trying to get me to go. She definitely doesn’t look the type who needs to stand about in a community centre writing positive thoughts on a fucking wipe board. After a while, though, especially after that trouble with Adam, I began to see that all of us there, we were just a bunch of broken things. Sarah said that was the whole point.

  So what was weird ended up being what we did just about every week for like ages. Every Thursday. Seven p.m. They didn’t do it in the school holidays, though, which is fucking mental cos that’s when I have like nothing to do apart from all the stuff that my mum totally invents like cleaning the windows or jet-washing the crazy paving. I would have actually quite liked somewhere to go other than TK Maxx or Burger King. We did a different topic every half-term, so like we did stuff about strengths and weaknesses. That one was actually really boring – you had to write loads of lists, like nice things people had said to you, and then you had to read them out in front of everyone, which would have been embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that half of what they all wrote was fucking insane. Like the most stupid shit I ever heard. Seriously. I was like, OMG, what the fuck is wrong with you? One woman, Shirley, she lives right opposite the sandpit in Clissold Park, she said that her mum didn’t used to give her a kiss goodnight and however much she used to cry and cry, her mum wouldn’t come to give her the kiss goodnight. She’s like forty-two or something. You gotta be over that by forty-two, right? I actually wish my mum WOULDN’T kiss me. We did another thing called ‘setting realistic expectations’ and Elisabeth, who’s like sixty-five and retired, she said she’d like to be a millionaire by the end of the year. And everyone just sat there and groaned, cos how’s she gonna do that in like five months? And Fleur said that that wasn’t really a realistic (she did that funny scratching-the-air thing with her fingers when she said ‘realistic’) expectation, now, was it? But she said it in a kind way and Elisabeth sucked it up. Then we did ‘setting aside perfection’ which was totally fucking hilarious cos Sarah is such a head case when it comes to perfection. She lines up tins in her cupboards – like tins of tomatoes and baked beans and stuff all in a row facing the same direction. She irons her knickers. She irons Adam’s pants. And her tea towels. She combs her eyebrows with like a little comb and this eyebrow gel. Seriously there is gel made for eyebrows. So she was terrible at that one. She said it was cos Adam is a Virgo. Fleur said it wasn’t about Adam and Sarah blushed. I’d never seen her blush before.

  Then we did this half-term module on trust. Like how you should trust people and what happens if you don’t have friends who you can trust and how it’s all down to you and not really down to them. The best fun we had was this thing called a trust fall. Have you heard of it? It’s a bit like stage diving, but without the stage. You know, you stand with your back to everyone and you kind of fold your arms in front of you and then you just fall backwards and your friends are sposed to catch you. And the idea was that you prove that you trust your friends, and if you don’t trust your friends then you won’t do it. And I did it straight away even though Lucy was there, the one with the long red hair, the one that’s afraid all the time and I thought well she’s gonna be too afraid to catch me for fear of catching something herself so I can’t really fucking rely on her. But Sarah said I was small and not difficult to catch so I would be fine. But she wouldn’t do it cos she was too tall and what if she was too heavy or long or everyone missed her? And she said that she’d had an injury and that if she smacked her head then she might get really ill. But no one believed that. It sounded like a totally lame excuse. So then it became a bit of a thing and every week Fleur would say, ‘C’mon now, Sarah, time to do your trust fall.’ And Sarah couldn’t. She’d get us all in a tight group behind her and she’d fold her arms and then look over her shoulder and go, ‘No. No. I can’t’, and run off. Fleur said she’d do it in time.

  We did that self-defence thing I told you about, when the mad woman Belinda scared the shit out of the total loser Moroccan instructor. And we did this thing one time, with an orange. FML it was funny. You had to sit cross-legged on the floor and roll the orange to each other and then say a word – like any word that came into your head but you weren’t sposed to think about it too hard cos that meant you weren’t doing it right. Fleur said it was called word association or something. We never actually made it to the words bit, though, cos these women were so fucking bad at rolling the fucking orange. Seriously. They would like roll it into like fucking nowhere. It was like they couldn’t think and roll at the same time. So Fleur would go like, ‘loneliness’ and roll the orange to Elisabeth and she would, at the last possible second, stop the orange and then whizz it off into like a totally random corner of the hall, staring after it like she hadn’t done it, like the orange had gone off on its fucking own, and she wouldn’t remember to say a word anyway. I started off trying to be helpful, going to get the orange cos half of them had taken half an hour to get onto the floor and were gonna take even fucking longer to get up again – so each time the orange shot off, I’d go and get it, sit in the circle on the floor again, roll the fucking orange again to Belinda or Lucy or Elisabeth again just for them to shoot it off into the corner while they searched their fucking empty heads for a fucking word. That was when we started giggling. We laughed so much, me and Sarah, that in t
he end we were sending the fucking orange all over the place too. We were rolling around on the carpet crying, it was so funny. And then everyone was. And on the way home, Sarah said that that was probably the whole point. Cos next time we went, everybody was still laughing about it, and it was like we were all suddenly really good friends.

  Looking at Sarah now in the hospital bed, she doesn’t look like the same person as the one who was rolling the orange, although she looks better than she did when I first saw her lying here. Her shaved head is not so fucking brutal. Her bruised face is less purple, more green.

  Sarah changed, though – before the accident, I mean. Adam changed her. She never laughed so much any more. She’d got thin and quiet and her face got this sad look. And the short hair made her look older. Like an old lady, Adam said. I think the only time I saw her laugh was when we were in the community centre with our lavender ladies – that was what Sarah called them – ladies who had let purple go to their heads and had become slightly mad. She did do the trust fall. Did I tell you that? She did it on the last day of that term. Fleur said it was her last chance and that if she didn’t do it we would have to all repeat the whole topic next half-term. So we all started shouting and clapping and stamping our feet going, ‘Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!’ We all got into position and she folded her arms, and she looked over her shoulder and wouldn’t do it, and then just when we were all about to give up, she looked at us and then she smiled and then she opened her arms out like really wide, which you’re not supposed to do at all, and she tipped backwards and we all caught her and we all laughed so much that we all fell over. And then we broke up for the Easter holidays. So we didn’t see anyone for a month. Sarah said that if there was a most improved badge she’d have got it that term for her trust fall.

  They’re taking Sarah for another brain scan this afternoon. They’ve reduced her medication again. I think they’re getting a bit desperate. We’ve got to bring some music in that she likes. I’m gonna bring in a mix tape and my headphones. I’m gonna bring her back to normal with like Coldplay. I can’t fucking stand Coldplay.

  35

  Sarah

  Day Seven – 9 a.m.

  ‘Did you hear the tox reports are back on the husband?’

  Why isn’t anyone saying anything about Ashley? What tox reports?

  ‘Do you know where the square swabs are?’

  ‘They’re in the cabinet. Seems like he was fucked. Very fucked.’

  Do they mean Adam was drunk?

  ‘They’ve only just discovered that now?’

  ‘I think the results got mislaid or something. Anyway, he’d sunk enough to take down a giant.’

  ‘He was a giant.’

  ‘No, I mean that they were shocked that anyone could have drunk that much and still be standing.’

  ‘Do either of you know when Bed 9 is due?’

  ‘No, Jen, sorry.’

  ‘Ask Lisa. She’s at the nurses’ station. She took the call.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like he was standing for long.’

  ‘According to that girl, Sarah had been at a counselling session in the –’

  ‘What, the neighbour’s daughter? Kelly? How does she know?’

  ‘Dunno. The police are going to investigate at the community centre – right where it happened. They want to talk to the parents again. It seems a shame. They should just leave them alone. What are they going to know about that? They’ve got enough to contend with.’

  ‘Yeah, one daughter in hell and the other one from hell.’

  ‘How very fucking true.’

  What about Ash? What if he comes back?

  ‘What’s true?’

  ‘Hi, Lisa. Is Bed 9 coming in?’

  ‘On its way. Sarah’s neighbour is here again. The one with the daughter.’

  ‘Oh, nice. OK. She’s all set. Her visitors may enter. Ta daaa.’

  ‘Hello, Mrs McCarthy, how are you?’

  Brenda.

  ‘I’m well, Beth, thank you. How’s Sarah today?’

  ‘She’s just about to open her eyes and say good morning, aren’t you, Sarah?’

  Sure am. I wish. I’m trying though. I’m imagining I can see. Pretending that I want to pick something up and telling my brain to go ahead and do it.

  ‘I’ve brought some music in. Like that doctor said. It’s Take That. Do you think that’s alright? Kelly’s at school, but she said Sarah wouldn’t like it. Her exact words were “OMG, don’t play her Take That. It’ll send her over the edge.” Actually she said, “It’ll take her over the fucking edge”, but we don’t need to tell everyone that, do we? I don’t know what young people listen to these days. Kelly’s put some tracks on her iPod.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll like whatever you’ve brought, Mrs McCarthy. Now, I’ve got a patient coming into Bed 9. Can you look after things here?’

  Brenda. Watch me. I’m trying to open my eyes. Brenda!

  ‘Should I be doing anything, nurse?’

  ‘No, you’re fine, dear. Just play some music and watch out to see if Sarah responds. Watch her eyes. Watch her hands. Mum and Dad are here somewhere. I think they’re with the police again. But they’ll be here soon.’

  The door closes. Brenda is humming. Brenda. I’m here. Come near me. Watch me closely. I’m trying to open my eyes. Watch. Are they moving? Are they? Now? Are they moving?

  ‘This CD player doesn’t fucking work!’

  She’s talking to herself! Brenda! Watch me. Watch!

  ‘I don’t fucking believe it! Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what the fuck is wrong with this?’

  Brenda. For heaven’s sake!

  ‘Would you believe it? Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ, my language! What would Father O’Shea say?’

  I can feel my hands. I can! I can actually feel where my hands are! I don’t believe it. I’m coming back. I’m waking up! There’s a clicking and a humming sound. A CD is being ejected from a CD player. Where on earth would they have found a CD player? Brenda! Can you see my hands? I can feel my hands.

  ‘Nurse? Nurse?’

  Brenda! Don’t leave now. Brenda!

  ‘Nurse. Can you come? Nurse. This CD player isn’t working.’

  ‘Just a minute, Mrs McCarthy. We’ll be there in one second.’

  ‘But, nurse. I think it’s broken. It’s not going round.’

  Brenda. I can feel my hands!

  ‘Oh, hello, Mrs Beresford. Mr Beresford. Are you OK? You look upset. Is everything OK?’

  Dad. Dad! Are you there? Can you hear me? Watch, I can move my hands! Someone’s crying.

  ‘Oh dear. Oh dear, Mrs Beresford. Have you had some tea? Would you like some tea? Come along. Let’s get you some tea, shall we? Come along.

  Dad? Brenda? Where’s my mother? What’s wrong? Where’s everyone gone? I can feel my hands. Look!

  And then the sound goes. Everything stops.

  There is nothing.

  I am lost.

  I have disappeared.

  This isn’t happening.

  36

  Kelly

  Day Seven – 7 p.m.

  My mum went to see Sarah today. Sarah’s mum was there crying. And her dad. The doctors have run more tests. There isn’t any good news. They said she’s in a ‘vegetable state’. What a fucking thing to say! Harsh. Ash hasn’t been back, though. Only good bit of news.

  She took a Take That CD. My mum. Fuck my life, who would do that? If you were in a coma and all you could hear was fucking Gary Barlow, how crap would that be? I’d prefer being un-fucking-conscious.

  My mum says I shouldn’t joke about the sick. I said I’m not fucking joking. Seriously. But, anyway, she couldn’t get the CD thing to work, so tomorrow I’m gonna take my iPod mini in. I’m loading it now with her Coldplay tracks even though they make my fucking teeth itch. It’s the one Sarah gave me for my fourteenth birthday. It’s like neon yellow. And when she gave it me she made me promise never to take it out of the house cos she said the whole idea wasn’
t to contribute to Kathryn Cowell’s habit. That’s how she said it. Whole idea. She always says ‘whole idea’. And ‘contribute’. She says Kathryn’s a typical addict. She says you can tell an addict cos their ego is like sky high and their self-esteem is like through the floor and the gap in between is what gets filled up with addiction – whether that’s drugs or alcohol or bullying. And I think that’s pretty fucking smart of her, really. Once you see scum for what it is, it doesn’t seem so scary.

  But saying that, after they found Kathryn Cowell’s lighter behind the burnt-out languages block I had got even more scared of Kathryn Cowell, even with Sarah’s clever explanations. I was like literally terrified. While everyone else was like laughing their fucking heads off that Kathryn Cowell had been stupid enough to leave behind her lighter and they were all going like, ‘What a total spaz’, I was crapping myself. I was going, ‘Oh yeah, what a total spaz’, and thinking, ‘I am so fucking dead.’ They were taken back into the police station for another whole day; Kathryn Cowell, Wino, Alex Hall, Tom Bush and Rob Long were all interviewed again but, because they are all kids, the police are powerless. That’s what my mum says. Powerless. My mum says, just you wait till they are eighteen. But that’s too late for us lot at school. Sarah says we are all traumatised. She says even the teachers are traumatised. Sarah said in the end it takes a thief to catch a thief. I asked my mum what that was and she said it was a totally ancient film, so I didn’t really get what Sarah was going on about then. We were talking about everything on the way to the community centre and we’d just seen Wino and, honestly, he looked like a fucking crack head. He was falling all over the place and it was only like six thirty in the evening. But even though he was shit-faced, he still looked like he was up to something, like he had a plan, on a mission, out to get someone for something. Me, probably. I said that to Sarah and she said I was over-thinking everything. And she said that now I had my brown hair and my nerdy uniform, I didn’t even look like me any more anyway. And she said, ‘Even when he’s pissed he still looks capable of evil.’ And that’s when she said, ‘You know what? In the end, it takes a thief to catch a thief.’