Page 58 of The Day Shelley Woodhouse Woke Up
‘What?’
‘Today. I went to the restaurant, to say hello, and you weren’t there, and the soup wasn’t carrot and coriander. It was parsnip.’
He goes white. ‘Ah. Okay. The thing is…’
But I never get to hear what the thing is because I feel like someone has reached into my chest and taken hold of myheart and squeezed it. I don’t know why he’s lying and I don’t particularly care, but I don’t want to have anything to do with it.
‘I think you should go,’ I say.
‘Shelley, I can explain.’
‘I don’t want you to explain. I want you to go.’
He doesn’t argue, just stands up and brushes his hands down the front of his jeans. He’s wearing glasses and he has a few days’ worth of stubble and I want to be able to point him out to Dee, to say I like him and what does she think. I know what she’d think. She’d say he’s cute but not my type. But David was my type, and look where that got me.
‘Do you want a tea, before I go?’
Despite myself, I do. The machine tea is pretty terrible but it’s a change from water. He disappears and comes back with a tea and a KitKat, puts them on my tray alongside the coffee cake without a word. Slips out. And the second he’s gone I wish I could call him back. Because maybe there is a reasonable explanation. And anyway, he doesn’t have to explain himself to me, does he? We’re not in a relationship. He’s a hospital volunteer, someone who’s made my time here so much more pleasant. I overreacted. And I can’t even apologise. He probably won’t come back. I wouldn’t, in his shoes. I eat the cake and the KitKat one after the other, and it’s only when I pick the KitKat up that I see there’s a slip of paper under it. I unfold it, my heart in my mouth.
Shelley – I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is upset you. Call or text me if you want me to come in again. Otherwise, I’ll leave you be. Matt x
And at the bottom, he’s scrawled his number.
30
THEN
Leaving hospital after David’s attack is an anti-climax, because I have to wait around for hours for my medication. I’ve got the discharge letter by ten in the morning but the medication doesn’t come until gone three. Because I didn’t know what time I’d be able to leave, I haven’t asked Dee to pick me up. Besides, Dee’s running the pub. She’s got enough on. So when I step outside and take a big breath of fresh air, I have no plan, no lift home. I look around for a taxi queue.
Just as I’m about to get in a car, a woman touches my shoulder, and it takes me a moment to realise that it’s Angela, one of the nurses who’s been caring for me these past few days. She must be on her break, and it’s strange to see her in her coat, out in the world.
‘You finally got it?’ Angela asks.
I hold up the paper bag in my hand to show that I did.
‘Well, good luck. In the nicest possible way, I hope I never see you again, Shelley Woodhouse.’
I tip my head back and laugh. ‘I hope that too.’
And then I’m in the car, leaning forward to tell the driver to take me to the Pheasant, pulling on my seatbelt.
Dee’s face is a picture. She’s pulling a pint when I walk in the front door, having failed to rouse anyone at the back, and she just keeps the tap running as the lager starts spilling all over her hands and the floor.
‘Shell, what the hell are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me? I would have come to pick you up!’
‘Dee, turn the tap off,’ I say.
And it’s only then that Dee looks down and presumably sees the lager pooling at her feet. ‘Shit!’
I cross the pub, aware that all eyes are on me. Go through the hatch and behind the bar, reach into the cupboard at the back for a mop.
‘Don’t you dare, Shelley!’ Dee is giving the man his lager, holding out the card machine for him.
But I feel fine, and I’ve never been one for sitting around reading a book or watching Netflix. Plus, Dee looks like she’s got her hands a bit too full. She’s the only one in and there’s quite a crowd, with it being a Friday afternoon. I have been working in pubs long enough to know that this is just the start of it. Some of these people are settling in for a long night.
‘I’ll take my bag upstairs, get changed, and then I’ll come and give you a hand.’
‘Er, no,’ Dee says. ‘I’ll take your bag upstairs, you can get in some pyjamas and lie on the sofa. I’ll bring you some food.’
