Page 1 of Pyg

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FUCKING FRAN

What is that? A cow?Alice climbed out of her car and peered into the darkness. A large black lump lay in the middle of the road, barely illuminated by the one functioning headlight of her Ford Fiesta. She squinted through the claggy mascara caking her lashes, courtesy of the deluge of tears that had flowed through them earlier.Courtesy of Fran.

“Fuck you, Fran,” Alice muttered through chattering teeth and took a tentative step closer to the lump. Mist rose from the ground in the low glow of her headlight. The yellow beam sliced through the darkness; not enough for her to make out the full form of the lump in the road, but enough for her to make out the rise and fall of breath.It’s alive.

“Hello… cow? Are you okay? Can you moo or something?”

Alice shivered and hugged her arms around herself, regretting the decision to wear barely anything under her thin trench coat. But then again, she wasn’t meant to be in the middle of fucking nowhere, about to be trampled by a fucking cow. She was meant to be fucking Fran in the cosy hotel room they’d booked for the weekend. But fucking Fran did not deserve her, and Alice did not deserve this. She just wanted to go home, curl up in her bed and forget this evening had ever happened. Forget the last few months and all the hopes Fran had raised and subsequently dashed.

A low groan sounded from the lump, and as Alice teetered closer in her heels, the groaning grew louder… and very un-cowlike. Realisation unfurled and Alice darted over to what was clearly not a cow, but a large man swaddled in a furry black coat, lying in a foetal position on the cold tarmac. Alice knelt by his side, tiny stones tearing into her stockings and cutting her knees.

“Oh my God! Have you been run over?”

The man groaned.

“Okay.” Alice stood and pulled her phone from her pocket. She squinted against the bright screen, then held it aloft. No signal.Fuck.

“Why me?” Alice muttered, her heels clacking along the tarmac as she paced back to her Fiesta and folded her legs into the vehicle. For a fleeting moment, it crossed her mind to edge the car around the groaning mass of a man and drive on by.Drive home, make a strong cuppa, and take it to bed. Forget about this evening, forget about this stranger. And more importantly, forget about Fran, once and for all this time.

But Alice wasn’t that person. She could no sooner leave that poor man in the road than she could forget about Fran, so she pulled her car up as close as possible and lined up the rear doors with the man. The engine ticked over as Alice crouched next to him again.

“I can’t just leave you in the road, so I’m going to have to get you into my car. Do you think you can stand?” Alice enunciated each word of the question, as if speaking loud and clear would somehow power the man to his feet.

It didn’t, but the man groaned.

“I’ll take that as a no.” She sighed and tugged at the man’s shoulder until he rolled from his side and onto his back. The interior light of the car cast an eerie shadow across his face, and his droopy eyelids fluttered.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to drag you.” Alice bent and tucked her hands under the man’s armpits, handfuls of his furry, damp coat gathered in her fists. She strained with the effort, panting as she dragged the dead weight as far as she could, stopping just shy of the car. “No offence, but you weigh a ton. I think you might have given me a hernia.”

Alice clambered into the rear passenger-side door. She leaned out, grabbed the man’s coat by the shoulders and tugged with all her might. After pulling his torso halfway into the car, Alice stopped to gather her strength. Whilst sucking in a few deep breaths, she adjusted her grip then heaved, but the coat pulled up and off the man’s arms and his limp body lolled to the side. The man released an anguished cry as his head hit the doorframe.

“Oh, fuck.” Alice winced and gawped at the empty coat in her hands. She stuffed it into the footwell and scrambled out of the car and around to the man, kneeling in front of him to survey the fresh gash on his forehead which was trickling blood into his right eye. “Shit, I’m so sorry about that. Okay, let’s try this instead.” Alice once again latched her hands under his armpits. She cried out as she hauled him up. Then, with an unsteady sway, she pressed her weight into him, and they both flopped into the car.

The man groaned.

Depleted by her exertions, Alice lay panting on top of him.

“This is not how I expected my evening to pan out. And I’m fairly certain I’ve never spent so much time with my fingers in a man’s armpits before.” Alice laughed and patted the man’s broad chest. “But it’s been nice getting to know you.”

The man didn’t groan.

After a beat, Alice lifted her head, panic soaring as she remembered that nasty gash. “Oh my God, you’re not?—”

The man’s chest heaved again, and Alice puffed out the breath she’d been holding. “You scared me for a moment there.”

* * *

The slidingdoors swished open and exhaled a gush of hot air.

“Help, please,” Alice panted in the doorway. “He’s injured.”

Heads swivelled in her direction and Alice pointed to her car parked out the front of the hospital. A split second later, two men in blue scrubs lunged into action and rushed past her. They heaved the man from her car and into a wheelchair, seemingly conjured from thin air. In a trance-like state, Alice followed as the duo pushed through double doors and into a strip-lit room.

“Bay Five is free,” said the bearded one. They came to a halt and the fresh-faced man pulled the papery curtain around the bay. Alice fidgeted with her coat’s torn sleeve strap as they hoisted the man’s dead weight onto a white-sheeted trolley.

Why did I follow them in here? I’m bloody well stuck here now.

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