“He’s waking up Mrs Grey. Jane. Jane!
He’s waking up.”
The light behind my sore eyelids
faded a little and a weight struck my chest: a soft, warm weight that leaked
onto my face and neck
“Peter, oh Peter, I thought you’d never wake
up.”
She was quiet for a while and I put weak arms around
her before trying to open my eyes. I saw fuzzy blurs mostly but then I managed
too distinguish a blob that must be the side of her cheek, and a more distant,
vertical blob that had to belong to the male voice. A doctor? “Hou.. Hou-ow!”
It hurt to talk because my mouth and throat were so dry.
“’How long’, was that Mr Grey? Four
weeks. You’ve been unconscious for almost four weeks. Let me examine you, for
safety’s sake.” Jane’s warmth scrunched away to my side but my hand was clamped
in her. Strange: I hadn’t known she had a grip like a vice. Painfully bright
light closed each of my twitching eyes in turn andthen cold steel chilled
my chest here and there – as if the beeping machines weren’t telling the doctor
more than any old-fashioned stethoscope ever could. Tradition, perhaps; or just
showing us all who’s boss. I respected that.
A cup of water brought my mouth and
throat back from the dead. “More,” I croaked, and listened as I gulped the
sweetest drink of my life. “What hap...pened?”
“They found you after three days, all
dirty and scratched and your clothes in tatters. I’ll kill that Lee when I see
him. Him and his special contracts. Why can’t the rigs do their own
maintenance? And why does it have to be so often?” Jane’s beautiful face
resolved into a mask of anger, despite her eyes being full of love and welcome
for me. “I know work on the rigs is nasty so you have to let off
steam in the pub but honestly Peter, after what you did at the wedding I worry
about you sometimes.” Ignoring our Amazon list altogether, Jane’s Sister had
presented us with a canteen of silver cutery. It had six of everything and was
probably intended for us to host dinner parties for her interesting husband and
whichever unlucky couple were her flavour of the month. I’d thrown the box
right back at her.
“We’ go’ o’ ‘o,” I mumbled around the cup,
“’ecos of elf’ an’ afety.“ I swallowed and put it down. “It’s Europe ,
right? They insist the companies hire external inspectors no more than thirty
days apart. We’ve got to go, even at Christmas.” Her expression softened. She
knew how much we both loved Christmas together and we hadn’t spent a whole
Christmas Day apart since we were fourteen until Lee took me on as his
assistant. And even since then we’ve only missed two in ten years - but they
hurt us, even so.
“Quite some lady you’ve got there Mr
Grey,” smiled the doctor making to leave us alone. “She’s spent every Visiting
Time for the whole month reading to you. Childhood stories mostly, and football
annuals. Even your nursery reading primers. That took me back, I must say. And
they brought you back, more importantly.” He beamed.
My stomach lurched with hunger and then
fear. “How long, exactly?” I shrilled.
Concern darkened the doctor’s expression.
“Twenty five days. They found you collapsed in the park twenty-five days ago.”
“H… Hou lon’ til night t..time?” I
burbled; waving a fuzzy arm at the bright window.
“Why, it’s night already Mister Grey. That’s
not the sun you can see; it’s the full moon.”
I am Peter. This is Jane. I like Jane.
See Jane scream. Run, Jane, run. Run, Peter, run. Play with Jane.
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