Page 12 of Pyg

6

LIFE TRANSPLANT

A light but persistent tapping roused Alice from the snot-bubbling stupor she’d stirred herself into. She raised her head from her plush den and listened harder. Was that the door?

Barefoot and bundled in her thick duvet, Alice waddled down the hallway, lit only by the yellow streetlight glowing through the transom window. She stepped over the clothes she’d discarded earlier and stood by the door.

Tap, tap, tap. Quiet, but there was most definitely someone there.

“Who is it?” Alice called out.

A soft voice came from outside. “It’s me — Ash — Doctor Khurana.”

“Oh.” Shit.

“I’m really sorry to disturb you, Alice… and I’ll leave if you want me to. But I was worried about you after earlier. You seemed distressed.”

Alice could picture the discerning face of the doctor, her eyebrows pinched together above those brown eyes, deep pools of concern.

The doctor’s soothing voice kept coming. “I tried to call you. I had your number from when you came in with the man… I mean, George. But your phone just rang out and… anyway, I wanted to see that you’re okay. I finished my shift and decided to drive by. Your light was on. God, that sounds a bit creepy now, shit. I really shouldn’t be here, but…”

Alice listened, almost mesmerised by the way Ash’s subtle Northern accent bumped up the ends of her sentences.

“Alright then. Well, you’re in there, so I guess you’re okay. If you’re not, then you know where to find me, or you could call the hospital.” The sound of the soft voice faded into footsteps descending the stairs.

“Wait.” Alice unbolted the door and pulled it open a crack, enough to peer through, but not enough to reveal her attire, or lack thereof. “Thanks for coming by. That was kind of you. I, er… I lost my phone, but I’m okay?—”

“You don’t look okay.” Ash’s face matched the mental image Alice’s mind had conjured moments before, her striking features etched with concern.

“No, I don’t suppose I do. But I’m fine, really. I just needed a good cry and now I’m all cried out.” Alice attempted a smile, but it felt like her face had forgotten how.

“Hmm. I know it’s late, or early, or whatever, but do you want to finish that chat we started earlier?”

“I, er…” Alice glanced down at her bunched-up duvet. She looked like a human burrito, hardly fit for entertaining. But here was a doctor on her doorstep, offering to listen, with no apparent agenda other than kindness.

“Look, sorry again to disturb you.” Ash turned to leave. “I’ll go, but if you want to talk then?—”

“No, wait. I, er… I’d like to talk, if you don’t mind. I need a moment to put something on under this duvet, though.”

Ash puffed out a laugh of realisation, her cheeks colouring ever-so-slightly.

“And you’ll have to excuse the state of the place. It’s a bit untidy. I need to?—”

“Shh! I didn’t come to inspect your flat.”

Alice grinned. “Okay, but even so — give me two minutes.” She closed the gap until the lock clicked and scurried back down the hallway, the puffy duvet tangling around her bare legs, almost tackling her to the floor.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Alice muttered. She shrugged off her duvet cocoon and gooseflesh prickled her skin in protest. In haste, she hopped into a pair of dusky pink lounge pants and pulled on the matching sweatshirt. The plush material hugged her curves in all the right places; more flattering than the duvet had been, at least.

Alice darted around the flat, gathering the many items of discarded clothing into her arms, before stuffing the bundle in the overflowing laundry basket in the bedroom. Tomorrow’s problem.

In the lounge, Alice drew the thick velvet curtain, shutting out the streetlights, and flicked on another low-light to add to the dim glow of the lamp. She plumped the cushions and lit the candle on the coffee table to suck any staleness from the air. Stepping back, she cast an eye over the room and, in a quick move, blew out the flickering flame. Too much. Don’t be too much. A small plume of smoke curled in the air and Alice wafted it away with her hand.

She released a long calming breath and padded back towards the front door, stopping for a quick check in the hallway mirror —

“Christ!” Alice frantically dabbed at her blackened eyes, makeup smudged around them yet again. She sighed at the useless effort, and put her fingers to better use, scrunching her loose curls; they always bounced back better than she did.

“Oh, bollocks to it, she’s seen me worse than this,” she muttered to herself.

Alice flung the door open wide this time. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She smiled and stepped aside to welcome Ash into her home. “You weren’t wrong before about the state of me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, but I could see you’d been upset.”

“That’s two nights in a row now that you’ve seen me in a mess.”

Ash bent to remove her trainers.

“You needn’t worry about that,” Alice said, although secretly glad.

“No, it’s polite, and besides, my mum would be horrified if I didn’t.”

A smile spread on Alice’s face, at least until Ash held something out to her at arm’s length.

“It was on the floor, I, er…” Pinched between her thumb and forefinger was a black thong. Alice’s black thong. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Alice snatched her underwear and stuffed it into her pocket, her stomach sinking in mortification. “Oh God, see, I told you the place was a state.”

Ash chuckled, a warm laugh which Alice couldn’t help but echo with her own.

“It’s fine. You live here. Stop worrying.”

Alice turned and Ash followed. “Welcome to my humble abode. There isn’t much to it, but this is me.”

“It’s nice.” Ash’s voice came from behind her. “It’s really nice. I love the floor tiles. Are they original?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Ash gasped, as Alice had once done, when she took in the height of the living room. “Wow! Look at the ceiling. You could have a mezzanine in here.”

“I often wish all that space was down here, not up there. But I suppose it’d just give me more places to leave my underwear lying around for unsuspecting visitors to find.”

Ash looked down from the ceiling, her soft gaze settling back on Alice’s face. “You need to stop beating yourself up so much.”

Alice gave her a weak smile. “Tea?”

Ash yawned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I’ll just go and wash my face and then I’ll be right back with a cuppa. How do you take it?”

“Milky please, three sugars.”

“Three sugars, but you’re a doctor?”

“A doctor with a sweet tooth.” Ash shrugged and yawned again.

“Grab a seat.” Alice motioned to the couch and Ash sat, resting back and closing her eyes. Despite her confident presence, even she looked small buried amidst the cushions of the oversized sofa.

Alice hovered in the doorway for a moment, adjusting to the novelty of someone else in her space. Fran had only popped by here the once. After an extended visit to the bedroom, where, incidentally, Fran had also admired the ceiling, but for different reasons, she’d insisted they go out for dinner instead of spending an evening curled up with a takeaway, as had been Alice’s suggestion.

“My treat,” Fran had said, with the air of a dissatisfied health inspector as she looked around the small flat, scattered with Alice’s tired possessions.

Alice had simply smiled, shaking off the pinch of Fran’s judgement and snobbish disregard. At the time, she chose to take comfort in her knowledge that Fran only wanted her for who she was, not what she had — at the time, she’d thought that had to count for something. And as always, Alice had acquiesced to being wined and dined by the much wealthier woman. After all, Alice’s go-to oyster dish from Chopstix, accompanied by a cheap bottle of white wine, had nothing on fresh oysters slipping down her throat, chased by actual Champagne — Fran’s treat.

Alice wiped away the black from around her eyes and splashed cold water on her face. Her makeup-free complexion wasn’t one she normally shared with anyone. In fact, even Fran, her lover of two years, had never seen her bare-faced. But Ash had already seen far worse. And it wasn’t like Alice was trying to impress the woman. Was she?

Get a grip, you’ve just come out of a long-term relationship. You’re a mess. And Ash isn’t your type… not that she’d be interested in you anyway.

* * *

“I’m sorry, but I still don’t have milk, so I made you a black tea, three sugars.”

Ash’s head snapped up. She inhaled sharply and glanced around. “Sorry, I was just resting my eyes for a minute.”

Alice sniffed out a laugh. “You must be shattered.” She sat and cupped her hands around her own steaming mug.

“Yeah, more than I thought, and this is a very comfy settee.” Ash sat up and ran her fingers through her silky black hair.

“Are you hungry?” Alice asked, but before Ash could answer, she shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I asked; it’s not like I have any food in. I mean, there might be an old can of tuna in the back of the — oh actually, wait.” Alice jumped up.

In the hallway, Alice reached into her handbag and pulled out a scrunched-up paper napkin. Returning to the couch, she unrolled the two muffins from the café, one of which had a considerable bite taken out of it.

Laughter bubbled up from Ash. “What the… how?”

“Sorry, they might be a bit stale now, but I wasn’t going to let Fran eat your muffin.”

Ash belly-laughed, and it triggered the same response in Alice.

“Wow, I’d have liked to have seen her face when you snatched it away. Was she mid-mouthful?”

Alice grinned and nodded. “Here, you have this one.” She passed Ash the intact muffin and took a small bite from the other. “Mmm, still divine.”

Ash nodded in agreement whilst devouring the spongy cake.

“I don’t normally do this, you know?” she said.

“What, consume muffins in the small hours with strange women?”

“No, I mean I don’t go knocking on the doors of random women who just happened to show up at my hospital. I’ve probably — no, definitely — broken at least ten rules that I can think of by coming here. But I really did want to check that you were okay.”

“Well, from one rule-breaker to another, I won’t tell if you don’t. I’m pleased you came by. You’ve cheered me up.”

Ash chased her mouthful of muffin with a sip of tea. She cupped the mug between her hands and relaxed back, fixing Alice with a thoughtful look.

“Come on then, what rules have you broken, Alice French?”

“Oh, I don’t know, a few here and there — perhaps the worst of which is sleeping with my boss’s wife for the last couple of years.”

Ash lurched forward, spluttering her tea. “Holy shit. You mean the woman from the café? She’s your boss’s?—”

Alice nodded. Under the spotlight of Ash’s wide-eyed shock, the shame of the confession washed over Alice. “I know. I’m the worst.”

“Er, no… she is. Bloody hell. No wonder you’re upset.” Ash leaned across and placed a warm hand on Alice’s forearm. Alice stared down at it. She didn’t deserve this kindness. She sniffed and swallowed the smarting twist that suddenly gripped her throat.

“Does your boss know?”

“No, Jeremy adores Fran, and I can’t bear to tell him. He’d be heartbroken. It’s over now, but it looks like she won’t let things be, as you saw for yourself.”

“That’s—” Ash puffed out her lips in the absence of words to sum up Alice’s conundrum.

“Yep, I know. I’m totally fucked.”

“I hate to agree with you on that, but it sounds like you are indeed... fucked.”

Alice laughed. “Is that your professional diagnosis?”

“Yeah, I mean, feel free to get a second opinion, but I’ve rarely seen a case so clear-cut as this. It’s textbook fucked-ness.” Ash’s lips curved into a smile, which accentuated the fine lines around her tired eyes.

“And can you prescribe a course of treatment, Doctor?”

Ash blew out her cheeks and paused for a moment. “I’d say full transplant… as in, get yourself a new fucking life, Alice.”

Laughter erupted between them, and Alice playfully hit Ash’s arm with her sleeve before flopping back into the plush couch.

“You know I’m just kidding, right?”

Alice groaned. “That’s the thing; you’re not wrong. My life’s a mess.”

Ash stretched up her arms, then slumped back into the cushions, mirroring Alice. They regarded each other, eyes lingering a moment too long.

Alice grinned. “How’s George doing, by the way?”

“He’s fine. I mean, he’s still sleeping mainly. He did wake up for a while, but he really wasn’t making much sense, mumbling about pigs again. He became so agitated we had to sedate him again. They’ve finally found him a bed on a ward, so he should’ve been moved by now.”

“Poor thing. I wonder what all that pig stuff is about.”

“No idea. But finding his wallet was helpful. They’ve got some contact details for his next of kin — his brother, Bernard.”

“Oh, great.”

Ash stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. “Well, it would be if they could get hold of him. The phone keeps going to voicemail, apparently. But they’ll keep trying.”

“I hope they reach him, for George’s sake. Someone has to know why he was lying in the road like that. And more to the point, someone must be worried that they haven’t heard from him. What about his phone?”

“Still dead. No one seems to have a charger for it,” Ash gasped through a yawn, which stretched out her words. “Sorry. I can’t stop yawning.”

“I feel quite invested now, don’t you?”

“Mmm, yeah.” Ash had closed her eyes.

“Don’t you think the pig thing is weird? Perhaps he’s a farmer and has a litter of piglets waiting on him to feed them.”

“Perhaps,” Ash said without opening her eyes or lifting her head from the cushion it had sunken into.

“Maybe George has an award-winning sow that escaped, and he was chasing her down, and that’s how he came to be in the road. I mean, he does look a bit weathered like a farmer, doesn’t he?”

Ash didn’t respond and Alice playfully nudged her with her foot. “Ash?”

“I should go…” she mumbled as her chest fell into a relaxed rise and fall, her features soft in the gentle glow of the lamplight.

Although she barely knew the woman, something about her filled Alice with a sense of calm. Even the steady rhythm of Ash’s sleeping breath somehow hushed the rush within Alice.

She reached across, pulled a grey chenille blanket from the back of the couch and covered the sleeping doctor. She moved slowly, not wanting to wake her. Not wanting her to leave.