Page 23 of The Spark

‘No idea, thankfully. I can’t remember.’

‘And afterwards?’

‘I was in hospital for a week.’

‘Were you injured? Physically, I mean.’

‘Some burns. And broken ribs from the CPR.’

‘CPR? You mean—’

He nods. ‘Yeah. My heart did actually stop beating. They had to bring me back.’

‘That’s crazy,’ I say quietly.

‘Yeah. I’m... insanely lucky.’ He lets out a breath. ‘What else? I have some scars on my chest.’

‘From the lightning?’

He nods. ‘I’m like, a much cooler Harry Potter.’

‘Is that how you introduce yourself to girls in bars?’

‘Oh, so that’s where I’ve been going wrong.’

I smile. Then I take a breath, start to probe again in a way I know I probably shouldn’t. But I feel a deep, elemental need to know. ‘And mentally... you said you felt different too? Like you’d had a personality change?’

‘Well, the best way to describe it is as though I’d had this bolt of clarity. Like I’d been sleepwalking up till that point. That was when I quit medicine, moved to London to train as an architect. Everyone around me thought I’d lost my mind, obviously. They all thought I had a brain injury or something.’

‘And... did you?’ I ask, as delicately as possible.

‘Did I what?’

‘Have a brain injury.’

He shakes his head. ‘Thankfully, no. Given that most people in my position – they wouldn’t have survived. Or they’d have had severe brain damage, or been in a coma, or had long-term neurological issues. I mean, I do get occasional nerve pain, but nothing like what I could be living with. That’s why I find the whole “lightning strike” thing a bit frustrating. The novelty factor. Because actually, it can destroy lives. Has destroyed lives.’

‘And your family and friends,’ I press. ‘You said they think you’re like a different person?’

He nods. ‘Yeah. I guess because after it happened, I seemed to have this sudden sense of... disconnect from them. Like the people and things I’d known my whole life felt... I don’t know. Alien. Like they were nothing to do with me. And my memories from before the accident became patchy. I could only seem to remember stuff when people prompted me. I had this very definite sense of... being dropped into a life I didn’t recognise. And that was upsetting for everyone.’

‘But for you?’

He takes a couple of moments to consider this, as though it’s the first time anyone has asked. ‘Not... so much. People kept telling me I’d changed, and I knew it objectively, but I couldn’t feel it, you know? And the thing is, leaving my old life behind actually felt good. Because people change all the time, right? They grow, become better versions of themselves.’

I nod. They do, but... ‘Didn’t you ever think it was strange, though? Didn’t you want an explanation?’

He shrugs. ‘No, because it wasn’t medical. Looking back, it was more like... a life stage. A wake-up call.’

‘But your family never accepted it.’

‘No. And it is hard for me to think they still pine for the loud-mouthed idiot I was back then. But it’s been nearly nine years. I guess as time moves on, I’m hoping they might forget who was I before and concentrate on who I am now.’

He tells me about his twin sister, an anaesthetist who lives in Norwich. But he says they don’t hang out much.

‘We don’t have... loads in common any more. She’s still a bit of a wild child, I guess you could say.’ He shakes his head. ‘I know I’m supposed to miss Gabi, and the bond we used to have, but... I guess I’ve just moved on.’

‘Sorry. Feel like I’m grilling you a bit.’

---