The Train by Sarah Bourne (fiction books to read txt) 📕

still there when she arrived. What if they discharged him and Brian wanted to go straight home? He couldn’t let him go on his own, but he could hardly take Alice with him.

The woman and her son looked at him and the mother’s brow creased. Tim realised he was probably annoying them with his ceaseless pacing but he couldn’t stop. The Indian family was called and they rose and disappeared into another room. Everyone watched them go and then looked at the clock ticking away on the wall above the rack which held useful leaflets about AA, NA, MS, PND, MND, SLAA. You name it, there were letters to obscure what it actually was.

The crisp-eating guy raised his eyebrows and said something to the older man who shrugged and looked back at the TV. A teenager came in and went to the reception window where a frazzled-looking clerk took his details and told him to wait. He was holding his arm above his head. It was wrapped in a tea towel but blood was seeping through it. Tim remembered his trip to hospital when his dad had stomped on his hand – he’d had the same tea towel, held his hand above his head in the same way – and suddenly he wanted to leave. His hand started throbbing at the memory of it. He wanted to see Alice, but not in this place. He’d forgotten how much he hated hospitals; the pain he saw on people’s faces, the smell of fear and antiseptic, the overlit drab rooms.

He told the receptionist he’d be waiting outside for any news of Brian and exited through automatic doors. He took a deep breath and looked across the car park to Uxbridge Road. Alice would be coming from that direction. He imagined her walking towards him while he watched, her coat flying open revealing the clothes hugging the curves of her body. He saw himself taking her in his arms and pulling her towards him, breathing in the sweet floral smell of her perfume, looking into her eyes, leaning down to kiss her.

‘Your friend is awake and asking for you,’ said a voice behind him. Tim swung round to see the nurse who had taken Brian away hugging herself in the cool evening air.

‘Thanks,’ he said and took a last look towards the road before following her back into the hospital.

Brian was sitting in bed in a curtained cubicle. A drip stand held two bags of fluid that were flowing into Brian’s arm through clear tubes. His eyes were red-rimmed and unfocused and Tim wondered if they’d pumped his stomach yet, or if they even still did that. He remembered his father had once had to have it done, not long after his mother had left and alcohol had been his constant companion. Tim had called 999 when he’d come home from school and when they arrived, heard the ambulance men talk to each other about pumping his stomach. Tim had had an image of a pump handle like the one he’d seen on an old Western, a woman in a long dress, a shawl around her shoulders, pumping water from a standpipe.

‘Hey, man, how you doing?’ He grabbed a plastic chair and pulled it closer.

‘Sorry – sorry I did this to you. You’re a good friend,’ Brian slurred without looking at him.

‘It’s okay. You’ll be fine.’ Tim hoped he was right. ‘Want me to get you anything?’

‘Nah. They’re going to keep me in overnight, they said. Coz of what happened and all.’

‘Have you – I mean, do you – are you thinking about it, the jumper?’

Brian looked into the distance. ‘Trying not to, but it’s hard. I keep seeing her eyes boring into me and then she wasn’t there anymore… you know.’

‘Yeah. I know, man. Might be a good idea, staying in for the night,’ said Tim. ‘Have people around in case you feel like talking.’

‘Yeah.’

They lapsed into silence. Brian closed his eyes. Tim looked around wondering how far away Alice was, when she’d be there, if she was really coming.

He watched the busyness of the emergency department through a gap in the curtains, pulled out his notebook and started sketching as he listened to the sounds and the rhythm of the hospital. The staff wrote notes, chatted to each other, spoke on the phone, tended to patients. He felt dislocated from reality.

Tim assessed his drawing. A nurse leaning against the desk reading case notes. It wasn’t finished but he liked the image he’d created. A moment of calm in a busy emergency department.

And he thought again about Alice and what it might be like to kiss her. She was sinuous, sensuous… ordacious? He wondered how it was spelt so he got his phone out to check it. Audacious. Lively, unrestrained, uninhibited. That was her. But she was also intelligent, ambitious, soft and gentle, holding a nugget of fear and shame close to her centre. He hadn’t known her long but he was sure he was right. She was all those things and more.

His phone vibrated in his hand – he’d had to turn off the sound when he came in to sit with Brian.

‘Tim – I’m here, where are you?’

‘Alice! I’m with Brian in A and E.’

Brian opened an eye and looked at him. Tim smiled at him and spoke into the phone.

‘Go to the waiting area and I’ll come out.’

‘Off you go, mate, I’m fine. See you soon. And, Tim – thanks again,’ said Brian.

Tim squeezed his arm. ‘See ya, mate. Call me, okay?’

As he walked down the corridor he felt the adrenaline rush through his body. She’d come all the way to this place to see him, to spend more time with him. The confidence he’d felt after a few drinks had evaporated with the alcohol in his bloodstream and he didn’t know what to say to her. He rehearsed lines on his way back to the waiting room but they all sounded cheesy.

She had her back to him, looking