The Ward (11 page)

Now what? Lisa said she had a phone – but the battery was flat. But what about the old hag in the bed next to hers? It’s worth a shot. Maybe Lisa can help me convince her to let me
use it.

I pass the old women’s ward next to my closet. A low sobbing. One of the women moans in her dreams. Eight beds with eight permed grey hairstyles, all waiting. Like sheep for the
slaughter.

Christ, Farrell, snap out of it. This is a fucking hospital. People come here to lie in bed and get better. And you think Lisa is the fucked-up one?

I hurry to Lisa’s room and peer inside. Only two of the eight beds are occupied. There’s a sweating mama in the far corner and, snoring in the middle bed on the right, that sour old
bitch who can’t stop talking. Gertie: that’s her name. Lisa’s bed is empty, she’s clearly not back from surgery yet. I don’t want to deal with the old cow on my own,
so I turn to leave.

‘Back again, Frankie?’ Gertie calls after me. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and sits up, rheumy eyes groggy with sleep. ‘What, can’t stay away from me,
that it?’

‘It’s Farrell. Josh Farrell.’ I immediately feel like a prat.
The name’s Farrell
.
Josh Farrell
. I don’t know what it is about this woman that sets my
nerves on edge.

‘You seen Lisa?’ she asks, pawing in a glass next to her bed for her teeth. My stomach rolls over.

‘Not since she went in for surgery.’

‘She should’ve been back by now. Missing her, are you? Sexy chick like that? Don’t blame you.’

I know she’s trying to get a rise out of me, but I can’t help snapping back at her. ‘It’s not like that. Lisa was… She’s… she’s got
problems.’

‘You’re talking kak. Nothing wrong with that chick. You’re the one with the problem, you ask me. Mind you, you’re smelling a lot better now. I mean, seriously, Frankie.
Let me give you a tip. If you wax your back and your bottom it’s more permanent than Veet, okay?’

What the fuck does she mean by that? Christ, she’s a bitch. I’ll have to play this carefully. ‘Look, I’ve got a bit of an emergency and I really need a phone.’

She looks at me craftily. ‘That so?’

‘Yeah. You don’t have one by any chance, do you?’

‘Might do.’

Jesus. It’s like pulling teeth. ‘I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me use it. I’ll pay for the airtime, of course.’

She looks me up and down. ‘What with? Your body? No thanks.’

What I really want to do is tell her to shove her phone up her flabby arse, but I need to get hold of Katya. ‘Please, Gertie.’

She points an arthritic finger at me. ‘You pay me back, you hear?’

‘I will. Soon as I get my stuff back.’

‘And extra.’

‘Yeah. When I get my wallet I’ll give you fifty rand, that cool?’

‘Hundred.’

Fuck
. ‘Fine.’

She takes her time ferreting around in her bedside cabinet, then finally hands me a battered plastic Nokia out of the Stone Age. ‘Thanks,’ I say, grabbing it before she can change
her mind.

‘Don’t use up all the airtime, Frankie,’ she says. ‘And I want my hundred.’

I step out into the corridor. Jesus, this phone is a piece of shit. I tap the number in, and wait.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring. I haven’t heard that sound for more than a week and it makes me feel part of the world again.

‘Hello? Hello? Who is this?’

I recognise June’s voice instantly. June always sounds like this: both timid and stoned, but she’s always liked me. Which is more than I can say for Glenn. So Katya went home to her
parents. But why isn’t she answering her phone?

‘Hello, June. It’s Josh.’ Now that I open my mouth the nerves hit me. If these memories I’ve been having are true, I’m probably the last person Katya wants to speak
to.

A long pause, and then an almost whispered ‘Josh’.

‘Uh, hello, um. I wanted to find out… Is Katya there?’

June sighs. ‘She’s not, Josh.’ Now she sounds angry – fuck, I’ve never heard June use that tone of voice. I can imagine Katya sitting there behind her, that furious
look on her face making her even more gorgeous, folding her arms and shaking her head.

‘Do you know where she is? I need to talk to her. Find out if—’

‘Where are you calling from, Josh?’

Of course! They don’t know. ‘I’m in hospital. I’ve been here since Monday.’

‘Oh, Josh. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you answer your phone? The po— What’s the matter?’

‘I had measles. But it was quite bad. I couldn’t see. Could barely walk. I was completely out of it for a few days. I’m getting better now.’

‘We tried to get hold of you. There was no answer.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I got taken to New Hope Hospital, and my phone’s dead. Nobody came. I’ve been desperate to get hold of Katya.’

Another pause. Someone talking in the background. A muffled whisper. ‘She’s missing, Josh.’

‘What?’

‘We couldn’t get hold of her on Monday so we went round to the flat. She wasn’t there.’

‘I can’t remember what happened, June. I think we had… a fight. I don’t know about what. Didn’t she go home to you?’

‘She didn’t,’ June says in an eerie, dead tone. More muffled talking. ‘When we went to your flat, there were… signs of a struggle. Her phone was lying on the
floor. Tell me honestly, Josh. What happened?’

‘I can’t…’
I can’t remember?
How does that sound? I have no fucking idea. Where the fuck is Katya?

‘And she was supposed to do the L’Oréal shoot this week,’ June says in that same weird voice. ‘There’s no way she would have just…’

That’s it! Maybe she was so upset after we broke up that she went on a coke binge or something. That would be like her. Fucking Noli and the other hangers on are always dragging her back.
But June’s right. She would never have missed the L’Oréal shoot. Never in a million years.

‘Do you have any idea—?’

‘If you hurt our girl, you piece of turd’ – Glenn has come on the line – ‘I will kill you. Do you understand me?’

I don’t say anything. Of course I understand him. I know Glenn would do it, is just waiting for an excuse, in fact. He’s always hated me; I’m not fit for his favourite
daughter. And he could kill me and get away with it. Glenn has a lot of money, a lot of people in his pocket.

‘Please stop, Glenn,’ I hear June saying in the background. ‘We don’t know tha––’

‘June’s had her way and called the police,’ Glenn continues. ‘And when they fuck it up, I will find you and make an example of you. Do you understand me,
Farrell?’

I disconnect the call.

I send a text back to Katya’s phone, hoping June will receive it.

My legs are quivering again and there’s a sharp pain in my chest. I slump back against the wall. Until I remember exactly what happened that morning, I’m in serious shit. A harried
doctor jogs through, pausing when he spots me. ‘Are there nurses on duty in this section?’ he asks, as if I’m in charge here.

‘Sorry, I haven’t seen anyone.’ I’m amazed at how normal my voice sounds. ‘I think they’re on skeleton staff. The train. How are things in
casualty?’

‘They just keep pouring in. Two coaches jammed in the mouth of the tunnel until the middle of last night. So many dead. So many badly injured.’ He looks like he’s about to cry.
His eyes are wild, unfocussed, like someone on a bad drug trip. ‘If only we had got to them earlier…’ he mumbles as he wanders off.

I think of what we passed through yesterday. I think of that mess getting worse. I can’t shake the sound of the kids whimpering quietly. That sound cut through all the running and shouting
and screaming. Up here in Green Section, we’re safe. That’s why the old women are lying so still. The world outside has gone insane.

Shit! I told June I was here in New Hope and now Glenn will come looking for me. Who knows what they found at the flat? I don’t even know what happened. I glance at the dozing security
guard. Will he be able to stop Glenn from getting in? Or the cops?

Glenn’s going to get here sooner or later, and I have to have a plan for when he does.

The ward is silent and still. I can hardly imagine the chaos just three floors down. The air-conditioning hum mutes any sound from outside. The lumbering orderly has mopped his way halfway up to
my closet door.

I return to Lisa’s room to give the phone back to Gertie but she’s asleep, her teeth floating in the glass next to her bed. It’s only got one bar of battery life left, so, if I
want to use it again, now’s my chance. I can’t think of anywhere else Katya would be. Or, rather, I can think of a hundred places she could be bingeing with those strung-out bitches she
calls her friends but there’s no phone access in cocaine heaven. And her cellphone’s with June and Glenn.

None of this is getting me any closer to finding Katya. The fact is she’s not with her phone and nobody can get hold of her. Who else might know anything?

The phone’s time display reads 15.27. I dial work.

‘Da Bomb Studios, hello?’

‘Yeah, hi, Lizzie. It’s Farrell.’

‘Farrell. My God. Are you okay? Where are you?’

‘I’m fine. But in New Hope Hospital.’

‘No Hope? What the fuck are you doing there?’

‘Maybe I should ask you. They said there was a medical-aid fuck-up… You’re supposed to handle that shit.’

‘But Mike said that he’d checked you in at Morningside.’

‘Who the fuck’s Mike?’

‘The new guy in accounts. You know…’

‘No. Anyway, thanks for coming to visit.’

‘We tried! Christ, Farrell. Eduardo and I have been going out of our minds. We went to Morningside, they said you weren’t there. We thought maybe you’d been discharged.
We’ve tried your phone a hundred times. I even went to your flat on Wednesday. Nothing.’

‘Jesus. Who’s this Mike guy again?’

‘That little guy, you know. The one with the limp. He actually hasn’t been in for a few days.’

‘Christ, Lizzie. Jesus fucking Christ. You should have checked. You should have taken me.’

‘I know, Farrell, I’m sorry. We’ve been so worried. Are you sure you’re fine?’

‘Ja, I’m feeling better. I’m hoping to get out of here soon. But now all the fucking doctors are busy on this fucking train thing… Tell me, Lizzie. What happened on
Monday? I can’t really remember anything.’

‘You came in about nine, said Katya had left you. You were seriously bummed. Then next thing you’re all grey and sweaty and you collapsed. That’s all, really. Are things okay?
I mean, with Katya?’ Lizzie knows as well as anyone that Katya has left me a number of times.

‘No… um, that’s what I was… She hasn’t phoned, has she? At work? My phone’s been dead.’

‘No. No messages. Sorry. Fuck, Farrell, can I do anything?’

‘Nah. Soon as I’m home it’ll be okay. See you soon. Tell Eduardo for me?’

‘Sure. Take care, boss.’

I disconnect, processing what I’ve heard. So Katya hasn’t tried the studio. Where the hell is she?

‘How are you feeling today, Mr Farrell?’

‘Nomsa. Jesus.’

‘Sorry, Mr Farrell. I should try to walk louder.’

‘I just heard… I just got some bad news. My girlfriend’s missing.’

‘Sorry to hear that, Mr Farrell. How did you find out?’

‘I borrowed a phone from Gertie.’

‘I didn’t know she had a phone.’

What’s this fucking interrogation about? ‘Is it important?’

‘It’s not, Mr Farrell. How are your eyes?’

‘Oh yes! I’m seeing just fine now. I’d say about eighty per cent normal.’

‘Excellent news. But you must keep using the drops twice a day, all right?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see you’re moving around a lot better too. But take it easy; don’t overdo it. Small steps. You’ll almost be ready.’

‘Nomsa?’

‘Yes, Mr Farrell.’

‘How’s Lisa? How did the surgery go?’

‘Oh, very well.’

‘Is she in ICU?’

‘No.’

‘Why isn’t she back in the ward?’

‘We’ve transferred her, Mr Farrell.’

‘Where to?’

‘The Wards.’

‘Yes, but
which
ward?’

Nomsa hesitates. ‘I mean… In the new wing.’

There’s a new wing? Lucky Lisa. I hope it’s fucking cleaner than this dump. ‘Can I go and see her?’

‘Not at the moment, Mr Farrell.’ Nomsa smiles. ‘She’ll need more time. Then you can join her. In the meantime, your job is just to get strong.’ Nomsa says this
often.

I look at her, a thought on the edge of my consciousness. I can’t grab it.

‘You’re doing very well, Mr Farrell. You’ll soon be ready. Remember those drops!’

All the stuff I’ve just heard – about Katya and collapsing at work – is muzzing loudly in my head. I feel like it’s going to explode. Nomsa’s right. I need to take
it easy. I’ve done more this afternoon than I have for days. I need to lie down. Then I can sort through all this information.

I get back to my room and check in the cubby that my stinking clothes are still there. I check on the top of the makeshift nightstand for the eye drops. Thank God they’re still there. But
something else catches my eye, something I haven’t noticed before.

A stack of Polaroids.

Holy shit. They’re pictures of my body, lying on this very bed, marked out in segments. Just like Lisa said. In the pictures the sheet is folded aside and I’m stark naked. In seven
of the pictures the drip tube is still shunted into my arm. In the rest it isn’t. In the corner of one of the pictures I make out a small hand. A woman’s hand.

I ruck my gown up. The fading black lines are clear as a map on my skin.

There are no windows in here, so I haven’t got a clue of the time. But for now I’m happy just to lie here in this comfortable bed, safe and warm, savouring the fact
that there’s no one around to look at me, talk to me or judge me.

I wiggle my toes again. All present and accounted for.

For now
, a wicked voice whispers in my head.
Snip, snip
.

Stupid. It was just a crazy dream – a warped nightmare. Dr Meka says that I should write down all my dreams, but I won’t be telling her about that one in a hurry. She’ll only
assume that I’ve started fixating on other parts of my body as well as my face. And the mall nightmare – well of course that makes sense. It’s been years since I’ve felt
confident enough to just ‘pop to the mall’ without hiding behind a hoodie, sunglasses and layers of make-up.