From Dark Places (17 page)

“I wasn’t doing anything stupid,” Jarvis hissed into the mobile phone, pressed against his other ear. “I was shaving and it just fell off. Now it won’t stay on, you’ve got to fix it!”

“Calm down,” said the professor. “Look, I’m a bit busy today, can it wait until tomorrow?”

“No! I’m getting married in two hours. I can’t walk down the aisle with only one ear for Christ’s sake!”

“What?!”

“I’m getting married.”

“Are you mad? I told you not to get involved with anyone, it’s too much of a risk.” There was an awkward pause. “Does she know?”

“No.”

“Don’t you think that’s rather unethical?”

“Bloody hell, I didn’t phone you for a lecture on ethics! I just want you to fix my sodding ear!”

“When did you plan to tell her? On your wedding night? Over breakfast on your honeymoon? Or did you plan to wait until she first sees something fall off? ‘Darling, could you stick my ear back on?’ How do you think she’d take it?”

“Why are you giving me such a hard time?”

“Because you’re behaving like a fool,” the professor shouted. “This is—ridiculous and quite frankly rather sickening. I told you there were no guarantees my technique would stand up to normal wear and tear, let alone passing yourself off as a normal member of society.”

“I am a normal member of society!” Jarvis yelled. “Christ, are you listening to what you’re saying to me? It’s my wedding day!”

“I’m trying to make you see sense.”

“I love her!”

“You’re a fool.”

“I’m coming over right now. You’re going to stick my ear back on!”

“No, I won’t be here. I won’t assist you in doing something so awful.”

He ended the call leaving Jarvis with his mobile in one hand, his ear in the other. He immediately checked the time. The call had taken only a few minutes.

The professor was just shocked and upset he hadn’t told him, Jarvis reasoned. If he went there, ear in hand, the Professor wouldn’t turn him away, not after all he’d done. Jarvis dressed but left the jacket of his morning suit on the hanger and pulled on a hooded top. A glance in the mirror assured him with the hood up he looked fine. He wrapped the ear in a napkin leftover from the breakfast tray, grabbed his keys, wallet and dashed out of the door.

“Brilliant, I could eat a horse,” Charlotte said at the sight of her father’s entrance with a plate of toast.

He smiled, setting it down on the bed. “Everything going to schedule?”

She nodded. “Have the ushers arrived?”

“On their way. I’m going to get dressed now, then I’ll be free to help your Mum. She’s a bit nervous.” He kissed her on the forehead. “See you soon, poppet.”

Charlotte took a bite as her mobile rang. She glanced at the number and wrinkled her nose. He was the last person she wanted to talk to this morning. She pressed the ‘busy’ button, then put it on silent. Nothing was going to spoil today.

Jarvis sprinted up to the professor’s house, but he knew something was wrong even before he got there. No car on the gravel drive and a note stuck to the front door with ‘Jarvis’ written on it. He pulled it off the wood and unfolded it.

Jarvis,

I told you I wouldn’t be here. You’re making a terrible mistake. I won’t be party to something so unethical. You need to accept what you are. I’m sorry,

~Dr Parkes.

“Damn it!” Jarvis yelled and pounded a fist on the door. He looked at his watch, he’d wasted twenty minutes driving to the Professor’s and his ear was nowhere near fixed. Then his mobile rang.

“Dave! God, I’m sorry.”

Up half of the night rehearsing his speech, Dave had been jumpy as hell all morning. He should have left a note.

“Is something wrong? You’re not–”

“No, I just realised I needed to get something. I’ll be back soon, okay? Can you take my jacket down to the ceremony room if I’m not back in half an hour?”

“…Okay. See you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jarvis replied, feeling guilty. “See you soon mate.”

He jogged back to the car. There was only one thing to do now.

Charlotte smoothed the front of the dress as her mother dabbed her eyes. “What are you going to be like at the ceremony?”

Her mother sniffed. “Has my mascara run?”

“No, you look perfect.”

“So do you, darling. Have you got everything?” At Charlotte’s nod she said, “I’ll see you there then.”

Her father appeared at the doorway. “You look wonderful,” he smiled. “Like a princess.”

“You soft bugger.” Charlotte winked, arranging the veil.

“The car’s outside love.” Her father stuck out his elbow, inviting her to take his arm. “Better not be too late, eh? Wouldn’t want poor Jarvis to worry.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and he patted it gently. “Now, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

She laughed. “Yes! Let’s go before Mum gets one of her headaches.”

By the time Jarvis found a shop stocking superglue, got back to the hotel, found the back entrance to avoid the arriving guests and made it to the men’s bathroom, he was in a complete state. He wanted to go up to his room, but there wasn’t time, the pre-ceremony music had started.

He locked himself in a stall, fearing a guest would see him. The shaking left him barely able to control the tube. He dabbed the superglue onto the ear as best he could, felt the side of his head for the right place and stuck it on. He held it there for a few moments, then left the stall to inspect his work in the mirror.

 “Damn!” The ear sat several centimetres too low.

He tried to peel it off and reposition when he heard footsteps hurrying to the door. He dashed back into the stall, knocking the tube into the toilet in his haste. He slammed the door shut just in time.

“Jarvis? Are you in here?”

“Dave?”

“Yes.” Jarvis leant back heavily on the door, squeezing his eyes shut against the panic.

“Are you sick?”

“Yes,” he lied, grateful for any kind of excuse.

“Oh, right. One of the ushers saw you. Um, Charlie’s here, the car’s just pulled up. I’ve got your jacket.”

“Thanks, mate,” Jarvis said, pulling experimentally at the ear to see if it was sticking in its new position. It hadn’t set yet so he hastily pressed it back against the side of his head. “I’ll just be a minute, just wait outside, okay?”

“Sure,” Dave replied, sounding like he was employing some type of relaxation breathing.

At the sound of the external door closing, Jarvis went to open the stall door, but the index finger of his right hand stuck to the wood, super-glued to the surface. He tugged at his hand, hoping only the top layer of skin would remain. Instead, the whole finger detached.

“Oh, Jesus!” he cried, staring at the finger stuck to the door, left as if pointing up at the ceiling. He looked at his hand and the empty space between the thumb and middle finger. A lump rose in his throat.

Was the Professor right?

“He’s—he’s, good. Everything’s fine,” Dave stammered. “He’s— he’s—just in the—um, bathroom.”

“In the
bathroom
?” Charlotte’s mother shrieked. “What’s he doing in there? We were supposed to start ten minutes ago!”

“Is he sick?” Charlotte asked, taking hold of her father’s hand and holding it tight without realising she was doing so.

“He might be. I—maybe it’s nerves.”

Charlotte breathed in deep, staring at a vase of flowers displayed on a table outside the ceremony room. “I’m going to go and speak to him.”

“You can’t!” her mother cried. “He’ll see your dress. It’s bad luck!”

“It can’t be any unluckier than missing your own wedding.” Charlotte grabbed her emergency bag from Sophie. “Give us some privacy, and tell the guests we’ll be starting a little late, but everything’s fine.”

“Jarvis? What’s wrong, darling?”

“Charlie!” Jarvis pressed his forehead against the inside of the stall door. “Oh God, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you sick?”

He rolled his head to the right, peering at the finger stuck to the door. “Kind of.”

“Do you need some water?”

“Charlie, look…” he tried to carry on, but there simply weren’t any right words. He checked the door was locked, put the seat of the toilet down and sat heavily on it. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

After a long pause, she said, “Okay.”

“You remember the car crash last year?”

“How could I forget it?”

“Yeah, good point.” He stared at the finger, still pointing up. “Well, I kind of died.”

“Kind of?”

“Yeah,” the words weren’t coming any easier. “Kind of, in that I died and then was err—fixed. Yeah, fixed. By this professor.”

“Fixed? You don’t die and then ‘get fixed’, Jarvis. You die and get brought back, like on ER. Toasters get fixed.”

“I was brought back, by a professor,” he carried on, ignoring the tetchiness. He was ruining her wedding day, what did he expect? “But—it was an experimental procedure, and—well, I’m sort of technically not fully alive.”

“Technically?”

The only sound for almost a minute was the drip of a tap. “It’s complicated. I have to go to him regularly for these injections, and to get zapped. Like—electro-shock therapy.”

“Okay.”

His eyebrows shot up. She seemed to be taking it well. “Thing is, quite a bit of me had to be—replaced, the bits mashed up in the crash.” He winced at his choice of words. Not the nicest image in the world. “And these bits, they, err, need a lot of—maintenance.”

“Okay.”

He wished he had the guts to go out and tell her face to face, but he just couldn’t do it.

“Well, one of these bits—fell off, when I was shaving. And the professor wouldn’t help and I got this glue but I screwed it up, and I’ve stuck one of my fingers to the inside of this door, and when I tried to pull it free, it came off too and oh Christ Charlie, I can’t marry you now, can I? I’m not even a proper person. I’m not even fully alive, I’m just sort of alive and bits fall off me sometimes. I couldn’t tell you, you were so pleased I pulled through after the crash, so I just kept waiting for the right time but it never came, so I just kind of ignored it, and then this happened, and well, now I’m locked in a toilet and ruining your life.”

He heard a long sigh and then the sound of a zip. A metal nail file appeared at the bottom of the door, thrust underneath by Charlotte.

“See if you can get your finger off the door with this.”

He plucked it from her fingers and used it to separate the digit from the door, leaving a thin layer of super-glued skin and a few scratch marks.

“Does it hurt when they fall off?”

“No, I don’t feel any pain any more. That’s the only good thing about this.”

“Could you stitch the finger back on then?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, and swapped the file for a mini sewing kit under the door. “God, Charlie, you’re taking this so well,” he sighed with relief. “I practised this conversation a hundred times, but I never thought it would happen this way.”

“Just get your finger back on,” she said and they both burst out laughing. Then he heard her sniffing and felt awful. He unlocked the door.

“No!” she yelled at the sound. “Don’t come out, I don’t want you to see me yet! I’m okay, really. We’ll talk about all of this afterwards. Let’s just get you sorted out, get married and figure it all out from there, okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, you soft bugger. Just make sure you use the cream thread, okay?”

He smiled and abandoned the red cotton he’d chosen. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Charlotte slipped out and dashed into the ladies next door to avoid going back out to the lobby and her family. She rummaged in the bag, thankful she’d come prepared. Finding her mobile, she switched it back on and dialled the number she’d ignored earlier.

“Charlotte! I’ve been trying to call you. I–”

“Professor, I paid you a hell of a lot of money to bring him back and the one day he needs you most, you let him down. I’m not impressed.”

“He said he was getting married!”

“He is, you idiot, to me. Why the hell do you think I wanted you to bring him back?”

“I—I didn’t think it would go this far,” the professor spluttered. “I thought you believed in my research—that it was in the name of science. Not this!”

“We love each other, everything else can be worked out.”

“It’s absurd!”

“I’m not arguing with you about it. You’ve already made me late for my own wedding.” She went to press ‘end’ and stopped. “Professor, if a certain piece of his anatomy proves to be unreliable because of your negligence, you can bet your ass I won’t be so polite next time I ring.”

Charlotte stuffed the phone back in her bag and hurried before Jarvis emerged. So what if one of his fingers was stitched on and his ear crooked? He was her true love and nothing would come between them. Not even death.

Thanks to these wonderful people

There is an unsung hero behind every one of these stories and that’s my husband. He listens to the first draft of every story I write (I always read aloud to hear the bumps in the story and know where to sand those words down) and also throws ideas around with me if I am stuck. Thank you, my love.

Next has to be Jodi, who edited each of these stories with care, sensitivity and a sharp eye. She discovered nooks and crannies in these tales of which even I was unaware and polished them into gleaming stories I am proud to call mine. Thank you, Jodi, you are a treasure and a joy to work with. Thank you for everything.

Last, and by no means least, I’d like to thank the members of my Short Story Club for submitting prompts, sending emails and comments to me about the stories and being so supportive of my work. I will do my very best to continue to entertain you.