Page 94 of The Spark

As the cab pulls up at A&E, I spot Gabi outside, vaping. She regards me as I jog-walk towards her.

Even during an emergency in the early hours of the morning, Gabi’s bob is sleek and groomed, her clothes pressed, her face made up. She’s even wearing earrings. I, by contrast, must look positively feral – hair scraped back, crumpled top, tracksuit bottoms and hoodie, whatever I could lay my hands on when she called.

‘Have you seen him? Is he okay?’

‘He’s okay. He’s still in theatre, but he’s going to be all right.’

Inside my heart, a parachute opens. ‘Thank God. What happened?’

‘Got absolutely shitfaced after work, apparently. Wandered into the road and a car clipped him. He’s lucky he wasn’t killed. He broke his leg and ankle, fractured a couple of ribs, punctured a lung.’

She talks like a doctor, I realise. Headline facts, emotion at arm’s length. ‘Thank you for calling me,’ I say, when she’s done. ‘Really. I’m so glad you did.’

We stand quietly together for a couple of moments. It’s a clear night, the sky cluttered with stars and a bright coin of moon.

‘Have you quit the real thing?’ I ask, nodding at the vape and leaning back against the wall we’re standing next to. It’s cold, but I need a bit of help staying vertical right now.

‘Depressingly, yes,’ she says, then glances at me. ‘Ash used to chain-smoke. I’m guessing that would have put you off, if you’d met him back then?’

‘No,’ I say, honestly, because I like Ash far more than I dislike smoke.

‘What about all the drinking and the drugs and the fighting?’ She smiles faintly, nods at the hospital building. ‘This used to be a fairly standard Friday night for us, you know, back in the day.’

Her question must be rhetorical. Because who, really, would opt for any of that?

I survey the slow procession of cars in and out of the A&E car park, the people making phone calls or sitting on the kerb staring blankly into space like life’s just mugged them of everything they love.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, turning to face her. ‘About what I told your mum when I came over. It was completely inappropriate and insensitive. I should never have said anything.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she says, on the brink of a wry smile that makes me think of Lara. ‘But do you really believe it? I mean, that’s some pretty crazy theory you’ve got there.’

‘I don’t know what I believe any more.’

She drags long and hard on the vape. ‘I lost someone once. I know what it can do to your mind. I used to look everywhere for him. I would think he’d come back and then... poof. He was gone again.’

‘Who was he?’

Her smile is full of sadness. ‘My brother.’

I smile weakly, and look down at my shoes.

‘I lost him that day he got hit by lightning. And you know what, Neve? When I got the call tonight to say he’d been run over, there was a tiny part of me that was excited. Do you know why? Because I thought there might be an outside chance his wiring had been knocked back into place, somehow, and I might just get back the Ash I’d known all my life.’ She takes her phone out and swipes into it, then passes it to me.

She’s opened up an album of photos, all of Ash, albeit much younger. But I don’t recognise this version of him at all. Bare chested and covered head to toe in body paint, tongue out, running at the camera. Standing on top of a building, a lit flare in one hand. Mid-air, jumping from a craggy clifftop. On stage somewhere, arm in arm with a friend, singing. In handcuffs, being led away by the police, laughing over his shoulder. Passed out, with various affectionate insults scrawled all over his face in what looks to be eyeliner. Part covered by a pile of coats on a sofa, again passed out. Dancing at a festival, eyes rolling, two cigarettes hanging from his mouth. Running bare-arsed down a European street. Dancing with a traffic cone on his head.

I wonder how many of these moments Ash remembers. Is this why he brushes off any mention of his past life? Because if he is Jamie, he would have no recollection of any of it.

I pass the phone back to Gabi.

‘That guy doesn’t look at all like the Ash you know, does he?’

I am torn between acknowledging her pain and reassuring her. ‘He said he just... grew up. No offence, I don’t—’

‘It wasn’t a “growth” thing. The change was too sudden. Too dramatic. It literally happened overnight. One day he was dancing on top of buildings in the rain; the next, he’d decided to ditch everything – his career aspirations, his friends, his family. And the only explanation I can think of is that something came between us that we don’t understand. Something... other-worldly. Some anomaly of science. And that’s coming from a science-lover.’

I can hardly believe it. ‘You think... I might be right?’

‘That depends. Tell me what your boyfriend was like. The one who died, I mean.’

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