The Tied Man

I was going to say that it was far more complicated than that  – in another time I might have told her to mind her own bloody business – but for now, I was damn certain I wasn’t going to let anyone else have him.  ‘Yes, he’s mine.’ The words were nowhere near as difficult as I thought they might be.

‘I’m sure you’ll look after him beautifully,’ Agnes assured me, then checked her watch.  ‘Oh heck, my Dave’ll be cursing me.  He’ll have been sitting in that car park for the best part of half-an-hour, waiting to pick me up.’  She unclipped her tabard and pulled it off over her head.  ‘Well love, I hate to leave you like this, but I’m afraid that’s me done for the day.  Just pop the mug down there when you’ve finished.’

‘Thanks.’ I  began to rally a little as I dried my eyes and gulped down scalding, sweet coffee.  ‘Nice jumper, by the way.’

Agnes looked down at the design of two yellow Labradors against a burgundy background.  ‘This old thing?  Knitted it years ago.’

‘It’s very cool.  I could never make anything like that.’

My companion smiled with delight.  ‘Well that’s praise, coming from you.’

No disguise was ever perfect.  ‘Ah.  You know.’

‘Oh yes,’ Agnes nodded.  ‘Art History ‘A’ level at night class – keeps the old grey matter from turning to jelly.  A bit tricky mind, with you looking like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, and with those lenses in.  Wasn’t I meant to recognise you?’

‘It would make things an awful lot easier if you didn’t.’

‘Well in that case duck, this has all been a figment of my imagination, not to be shared with anyone, even my Dave.  Is that better?’

I nodded.  ‘Thank you.  Again.’

Agnes was halfway down the corridor when she turned on her heels and came bustling back towards me.  ‘Here, why don’t you take this?  I reckon it’s warm enough for me to go home in just my blouse, and you’ll be nithered before too long.’  She took her sweater off and handed it to me.  ‘I know it’s not exactly the height of fashion, but -’

‘Oh no, I can’t take that…’  I tried refusing.

‘Nonsense.  I can have a new one knitted in a week, and it’s not going to help your young man if you catch pneumonia now, is it?’  She was taking no further argument from me, because she pulled the Labrador sweater over my head.  ‘There now.  That’s better.  And here’s a couple of pounds – make sure get yourself a bar of chocolate from the machine, or something.’  She pressed the coins into my palm and gave me one last concerned appraisal.  ‘Now, will you be okay?’

I found myself embraced in warmth and floral perfume and I had to gulp more coffee to stop the tears returning.  I nodded, and she smiled.

‘Good girl.  You take care now, won’t you?’

I watched Agnes disappear down the hallway, off to meet her Dave, and let the last inch of coffee and thick sugar syrup slide down my throat.  Junkie’s coffee.  I set the mug down before returning to Finn’s side.

Finn

In a benevolent universe, I would have stayed in hospital.  I would have been given time to heal properly, and vast amounts of drugs, and whilst I was compiling my wish list, Lilith as my only visitor, bearing grapes, a large bottle of vodka and the latest edition of Gardener’s World Magazine.  Instead, we were being escorted to the delivery entrance of Castlerigg Hospital by a cantankerous old porter who, in the absence of the truth, had made up his own reasons for my rapid departure.  He was more than eager to share them with Lilith.

‘If it was up to me, I’d leave this lot where they bloody well fell,’ he grunted as pushed my wheelchair.

‘Meaning?’ Lilith asked.

‘Bloody junkies.  Druggies.  Whatever you want to call ‘em.  You can always spot ‘em.  Come in here, doped up to the bloody eyeballs thinkin’ we’re NHS, bleeding from God knows where and no idea how it happened, then bugger off before the police can get to ‘em.  I’d just let ‘em rot in the gutter – it’d just need a couple to go like that for the rest to get the message.’

Lilith’s fingers clenched into my shoulder.  ‘You should think about running for prime minister.’ I could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

‘Aye, mebbe I will.  I’d stop them bloody darkies bringing all them drugs into our country in the first place.’