Page 38 of The Day Shelley Woodhouse Woke Up
It crosses my mind to ask Dee about the police again. But then I remember how adamant she was that she couldn’t talk to me about it all, and I don’t.
‘How did you know I was here?’ I ask then.
‘At the hospital?’
‘No, on this ward. Did you go to Intensive Care first?’
She looks down and I know, deep in my bones, that she’s going to lie. And I don’t know why.
‘Yes, I went there and they pointed me in this direction. Why?’
She can’t look at me as she says it. Why would she lie about that? And how else could she possibly have found out?
‘It’s just, there’s this volunteer. He’s been visiting me, and he said he’d bring me some food from the restaurant, and I was sort of hoping he’d be able to find me.’
Dee’s hands fly to her mouth. ‘God, I’m so stupid! I can bring you things, Shelley. Anything you want. While you were in Intensive Care, I thought you probably weren’t up to reading or doing crosswords or anything like that, and you’re not allowed totake flowers in. All I brought was pyjamas and a wash bag. But now you’re here, just make me a list and I’ll bring you things.’
If things were completely normal between us, she would definitely have asked this volunteer’s name. Probably would have teased me about him. She’s being overly careful with me, and it’s fair enough. She could have lost me, and that kind of thing makes you think. But I’m sure, once I’m out of here, we’ll get back to where we were. Talking in shorthand, leaving each other little notes written on Post-its and stuck to the kitchen worktop. I’ve missed living with her, I realise.
‘Can you bring me my purse, next time? And a KitKat?’ I ask.
She laughs, a proper laugh that bursts out of her like she’s not expecting it. ‘I can bring you as many KitKats as you can eat, Shell. And yes, purse. Of course.’
Then I look up and Matt is walking over. He makes some kind of gesture and I think he’s saying he’ll come back when I’m free, but I wave him over. I want to introduce him to Dee.
‘This is Matt, who I was talking about,’ I say. ‘And this is Dee.’
Dee looks at him, and he looks at her, and they both smile politely.
‘Hi, Matt,’ she says, shaking his hand.
‘Hi, Dee.’
‘Dee’s my best friend,’ I say.
It’s quiet, verging on awkward, and Matt clears his throat and then hands me the carrier bag he’s holding.
‘I brought you these,’ he says.
Dee helps me unpack the bag. There’s a polystyrene container with a generous portion of chicken tikka masala and rice, which smells so good when I open it that I actually start salivating. Another container with a wedge of cake. And there’s a book and a couple of magazines, and a lip balm and some moisturiser. I don’t know what to say.
‘You didn’t have to do this,’ I say eventually.
‘I just… You said you didn’t have any things, so I thought about what you might need. Shall I get you a fork?’
I nod and he disappears. I look at Dee, wondering what she’ll think of all this.
‘Can you believe this?’ I ask, gesturing to the bits and pieces that are all over my tray table.
‘It’s lovely,’ she says. ‘Really kind.’
But there’s a tightness to her smile, and I realise she probably feels bad about turning up empty-handed when this near stranger has brought me so many things, so I change the subject. We chat about the pub, and she tells me about a night out she had, and a film she saw, and then she gets up and says she’s sorry but she has to go. I don’t ask her why. When she leans in to kiss my cheek, she smells faintly floral.
‘New perfume?’ I ask.
‘Oh, yes. Birthday present.’
I put a hand to my mouth. ‘I missed your birthday.’ It was the day after I fell. At home, under my bed, there’s a bag I chose for her, wrapped up and tied with ribbon.
