Authors: Samantha Towle
“
Yeah, they said to take it off when I got home. Let the air get to it.”
I gaze at the cut that sits cleanly under his hairline, tiny stitches holding it together, as his fingertip touches just shy of it. “Another scar to add to the collection.” He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes with obvious amusement, his finger drifting to the older scar on his brow. “How’d you sleep?” he asks, picking up a slice of toast.
“
Oh. On the bed. It was really comfortable. For eight hours. How did you sleep?” I worry because I know just how little he actually does.
He raises his eyebrow, lips curving and puts down the untouched piece of toast. “Oh yeah, I slept on my bed as well, for about ten hours.” He nods grinning.
I smile, pleased he’s slept for so much longer than normal. “That’s really good.”
He laughs, then says, “Hmm, yeah, I was expecting to be up all night with this thing on.” He taps his potted leg. “Must be the painkillers the hospital has got me on that knocked me out.” He picks up his toast and takes a bite.
“
You not hungry?” he asks, words muffled by his mouthful of toast.
“
I ate before you came down. I hope that’s okay.”
Another lie and it concerns me how adept I’ve become at this lying business. And honestly, I wish I could eat the toast and drink the coffee because the smells wafting up from the table are wonderful.
He laughs. “'Course it is. This is your home now, Lucyna. You do as you please. You don’t have to fit around me.” He leans back in his chair, cup in hand. “So what are your plans for today?”
“
Oh – I don’t know.” I rest my arms on the table, linking my fingers together. “I hadn’t really thought past breakfast.”
He takes a sip of coffee, then puts it down. “I need to do a few things work-wise this morning, well mainly I have to get on the phone and sort a temp to help Neil and the lads out with the workload whilst I’m out of action. And then I really need to go to the supermarket, as you’ll have noticed –” He gestures to the kitchen cupboards. “– there’s not much in, and I thought it would be an idea for you to come with me . . . obviously I need the help –” He scrunches his face up, squinting at me cheekily. “– but I also thought we could get you some clothes and stuff while we’re out.”
“
Sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“
Good. We’ll have to take a taxi, though, as obviously I don’t have a car any more. I’ve got the work van but it’s not like I can exactly drive with this thing on – unless you drive.” He looks at me hopefully.
I shake my head. “No, sorry.”
I used to be able to travel at the speed of light, but now I have to walk to get where I want to go
.
“
No worries, we’ll take a taxi.” He smiles.
After happily watching James eat nearly all the breakfast I’ve made, I go upstairs and take a shower for the very first time, knowing this to be a normal humanly thing to do. And it’s the most amazing experience I’ve had so far – well except for every time James looks at, or touches, me, that is.
I stand under the hot water, exhilarated by the feel of it as it cascades down onto this body of mine. After a while, I reluctantly get out, wrap a towel around myself and stand in front of the mirror, not really knowing what I should do with my now wet hair. I know human women generally put a lot of effort into the appearance of their hair, but I haven’t got a clue where to start. So I just wring the water out with a towel, leave it to hang down my back, and put my original clothes back on now they’re clean.
We take a taxi to Kings Road. James steers me into a clothes shop first. It’s probably one of the most challenging things I’ve done since I landed here in my new attire, well aside from saving James' life. Wonderful but daunting. I’m wandering around this shop with absolutely no idea of what I’m supposed to buy, trying to act like I do. But part of me, well a big part, can barely believe that I’m actually here amongst these humans, looking like one of them, pretending to be one of them. It’s truly beyond imagining.
There are so many different clothes to choose from. I do the best I can, mainly by watching what other women in the shop are picking out, which mostly consists of t-shirts, skirts, jumpers and jeans.
“
What about this?” James is standing before me holding up the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen. It’s the colour of the sky, with these little jewels embellished along the neck line.
“
It’s really lovely,” I say fingering the silky fabric.
He smiles. “I thought it’d suit you. We’ll take it, then.” He peers at the tag inside the dress. “I think I got the right size – you’re about an eight, aren’t you?” his cheeks colour, “not that I know much about women's dress sizes, but you are – well, you are tiny.”
What size am I? I’ve just been picking up what I thought looked like it would fit me. I nod. “Yes a size eight is perfect.” Then I surreptitiously begin flicking through the clothes I’ve got, checking the labels for sizes. Mainly eights and some tens. They’ll do.
“
You got everything you need, then?”
I look down at my arms laden with clothes and nod. I follow him over to the counter where he proceeds to pay, which oddly makes me feel extremely uncomfortable.
“
So you’re gonna need some shoes to go with all these clothes you’ve just got,” James says once were outside the shop.
I look down at the many bags in my hands. He’s spent what seems like a lot of money on me already. I don’t want James to spend all of his money on me because he feels like he owes me for saving his life, which I only did under fraudulent circumstances.
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine with what I already have.”
He looks at me, brows raised, and says with absolute certainty, “I’m buying you some shoes, Lucyna, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Then he moves off before I can attempt a shot at resisting and, for a man currently on crutches, he’s moving pretty swiftly, might I add. So I just dutifully follow along behind him.
I manage to get him down to two pairs of shoes. Then, as we’re leaving the shoe shop, James clears his throat and says, somewhat awkwardly, “Er – Lucyna, do you erm – well you're gonna need some – underwear, aren’t you? You know, like – bras and stuff.”
Underwear, of course, humans always wear this beneath their clothes. I regard his flushed face, his uncomfortable demeanour, not seeing the source of his embarrassment and without, even bothering to contest over the money, knowing it to be a fruitless exercise, I say, “Yes, I will need some.”
It’s odd to see James like this. He’s usually so self-assured, so sure. It’s incredibly endearing. It makes me want to reach out and run my fingertips across his glowing cheek.
“
Right, well La Senza’s just there,” he says, voice some somewhat gruff. I follow his gaze to a shop across the other side of the busy road which has women’s underwear artfully displayed in its window. “Here’s my card.” He pushes his credit card into my hand. “Get whatever you need. My pin number’s –” He moves closer to me, his body almost pressed against mine, only the thin layers of our clothes and a sliver of air separate us, as he whispers in my ear, “One, three, three, seven.” His breath blows over my neck, setting my body on high alert. He moves back, looking down at me with opaque eyes which instantly clear. “I’m just gonna go in here.” He points to a shop advertising DVDs and computer games in its window. “I’ll meet you outside La Senza in fifteen, okay?”
And he’s gone, leaving me standing in the middle of the busy street, my body buzzing, kindling, practically spitting off flames. I mentally shake myself into the now, and, with his credit card in hand, slowly walk toward La Senza.
The woman in the shop is really helpful. She asks if I know my sizes, to which I obviously reply no. So she takes me into the changing area and measures me with a tape measure, and then brings bras for me to try on. I just buy the ones she brought me and the pants to match, and also some sleepwear – well if I’m acting like I sleep I may as well go the whole hog and dress the part too. And after paying, recalling just how James had done it, I go outside to find him leant up against the shop window, crutches resting under his arms, a bag in his hand, waiting for me.
“
All done?” He smiles, back to his usual, certain self.
“
Yes, thank you,” I say handing his credit card back to him.
Lastly we go to the supermarket. It’s packed full of humans. I steer the trolley around whilst James walks alongside, filling it with food and toiletries he says I’ll need. I just agree, nodding in what I hope are the right places, praying I get it right and come across as just like any other normal human being would.
We take a taxi back to James’ house, well my home now too. I put the food away in the kitchen whilst James rests on the sofa. The shopping trip really tired him out. Then I put my new clothes away in the wardrobe in my bedroom.
I’m on my way down the stairs when I hear James on the telephone in the living room. His voice terse, strained, as he says, “It’s my house. I can do as I please and after what she did for me – well it doesn’t even fucking measure up. I’m not gonna argue with you about it, she’s staying here, end of . . . I know you are but – . . . Jesus Christ, Sara! What the fuck! You don’t even know her to make those kinds of assumptions! . . . No. Seriously, I don’t wanna hear it. I’ll speak to you later.”
I hear the television go on and wait a few minutes before going in the living room. I don’t want him to think I was listening in on his conversation - which I obviously was.
He looks up when I enter, eyes dark, a frown etched deep into his forehead. I take a seat on the sofa beside him. He starts tapping the phone loudly against his pot.
“
Are you okay, James?”
“
Yep.” There’s an edge to his voice.
I link my fingers together. “You don’t seem okay, you seem –”
“
I’m fine,” he says curtly, cutting me dead, his tone surprising me.
“
I’ll leave you alone.” I get up to leave.
He puts a hand on my arm, stopping me. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, and sighs. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, I’m just – really pissed off.” He tosses the phone onto the sofa beside him. “You remember my friend Sara – the one you met at hospital?” I nod. “Well she’s just kinda –” he half smiles, “ – pissing me off at the moment, which is weird really 'cause we never row.” He rubs his brow thoughtfully. “To be honest, I can’t think of a time we have in all the years I’ve known her.”
“
How long have been friends?” I ask.
He looks at me, his face less tense now. “Since we were kids. Our dads were best friends. We grew up together. She’s kinda like a sister to me. Our families always went on holidays together, days out – you know that sort of stuff.” He pushes his fingers through his hair. “But she’s just . . . overstepped the mark a bit. She thinks that –” He looks at me with weary eyes, then shakes his head and smiles. “It doesn’t matter – so anyway, did you have a good time shopping today?” And just like that he changes the subject.
“
Yes, it was great, and thanks again for all the clothes and shoes . . . and other stuff.”
“
Don’t thank me, it’s the –”
“ –
least you can do after what I did for you,” I say, finishing his current aphorism with a smile.
He laughs, a real laugh, reaching all the way up to his eyes. “Touché,” he grins, “touché.”
* * *
At five o’clock James’ employee, Neil, comes by the house to go through some work things with him. After the obligatory introductions, with me pretending like it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Neil - it’s not; I’ve seen him many times before when I used to watch James - I make myself scarce, leaving them in the living room to get on with their work.
I go in the kitchen, fill a glass with water and take it into the garden with me. I have no intention of attempting to drink it but I need it to appear to James that I do actually drink every now and then, and it doesn’t hurt to dirty up a few glasses here and there as proof.
I sit down on one of the chairs on the paved area overlooking the big garden, resting the glass on the table, and let the afternoon sun drift over me, savouring the absolute tranquillity of this garden, the calmness it offers, as the heady scents emitting from the blossoms whirl gently around me.
I could spend forever sitting here.
After about an hour, Neil pops his head out of the back door.
“
I’m off now. It was really nice to meet you, Lucyna,” he says, smiling.
I return his smile. “It was nice to meet you too, Neil.”
“
See you, then.” He waves and disappears off.
Five minutes later James comes out with a coat in his hand.
“
I brought you this in case you were getting cold.” He hands me the coat and sits down in the chair beside me.
“
Thank you.” I slide my arms into the sleeves, pulling it around me. It smells of him, all musky and intoxicating. “Your garden is really beautiful, James.”
“
Thanks – well I suppose it should be with what I do for a living.” He laughs. “Wouldn’t be a good advert if it was a mess.”