In Another Life (17 page)

Settling in to her seat she gazed at the grand screen hovering twenty feet away from her as the opening credits began. Beside her Sebastian picked at the popcorn he had bought for them to share. Marie had tentatively eaten a few pieces and then pushed it away. Eating brought its own collection of discomforts within her damaged array of organs and she felt self-conscious, even in the darkness of the cinema.

Walking was still a chore. The short walk to the cinema from the tube station should take five minutes but for Marie it ended up being around twenty five. She laboured over her crutches, struggling to maintain her balance whilst propelling herself forward. If only one of her legs was strong enough to take her full weight but they were still both equally fragile. Yet she refused to sit in a wheel chair. She’d been resigned to one for a vast amount of her recovery and she was determined to reclaim what she could of her independence.

“I hate it when people stare,” Marie panted as she hobbled along precariously.

“People are just concerned,” Sebastian said, keeping one hand upon her back as she walked in case she fell and swiftly needed catching. Initially she used to fall on a daily basis, adding to her assorted collection of bumps and bruises, but now she rarely fell.

“How can you be concerned for someone you don’t know?” Marie stated negatively. Wherever she went, scores of eyes glanced sideways at her, monitoring her movements. She wondered whether they were gaping at the invalid or whether they knew her from Azriel? Perhaps in some region of their sub-consciousness they recognised her.

*

The film they had gone to see was a psychological thriller set in space. Sebastian had selected it, hopeful that nothing in it would strike a negative chord with Marie and her current condition.

As the film began the audience were taken in to space where the earth looked like a beautiful serene bauble against the endless darkness of the universe. Marie watched the image of the earth with vested interest. She wondered how Azriel’s home planet would look from a distance, would it be all that similar aesthetically.

The more the plot developed the more enthralled Sebastian became. He kept his eyes glued to the screen, moving only his hand to delve in to the popcorn tub and hungrily shove numerous sugared popped kernels in to his mouth. It seemed that as his interest increased, so did his appetite.

Marie glanced at him and smiled slightly. It was nice to see him captivated by something other than herself. For so many months he had watched over her, not daring to leave her side. He deserved this rare opportunity of escapism as much as she did.

Rubbing her eyes, Marie struggled to stay awake. The film wasn’t at fault for her fatigue. It was an entertaining and exciting premise but her limbs ached from the walk to the cinema and the darkness lulled her in to a state of relaxation. If she wasn’t careful she’d fall asleep all together which would give Sebastian the wrong impression. She wanted him to know that their first outing in what felt like a lifetime had been a successful one.

The protagonist in the film had been abducted by aliens and was now fighting to save their crew. The action was coming thick and fast and the popcorn had all but gone. Still, despite the ominous booms and gun shots that ricocheted around the theatre through the state of the art sound system Marie felt her eyes trying to slide shut. No matter how much she rubbed at them they refused to relent in their desperate quest for sleep. She needed fresh air.

Carefully leaning towards Sebastian she whispered; “I’m going to the toilet.”

He grunted in response, completely engrossed by the movie. Then something in him clicked and he turned sharply to face her.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” Marie shook her head, almost giggling at the question. “This is definitely something I need to do alone.”

With as much stealth as her battered body could muster Marie raised herself up on to her crutches and removed herself from the theatre.

The sudden bright lights of the foyer stung her eyes as she came out. The smell of fresh popcorn hung heavily in the air making her stomach growl. She wished she wasn’t as self-conscious, then she could delve in to the popcorn as hungrily as Sebastian was.

Turning slightly she saw where the toilets were located and beyond them, the glass doors which opened out on to the street. It was already dark outside but the street was bathed in a copious amount of artificial light courtesy of both the cinema and the endless parade of cars driving by.

Carefully Marie walked across the foyer and out of the glass doors. A kind faced old man eagerly held the door open for her.

“Thanks,” Marie muttered, trying to sound grateful. He offered her a friendly smile but there was pity in his eyes which she resented. She felt like the whole world perceived her differently since her accident. But perhaps it was the other way around, perhaps it was she who was looking at the world from a different angle?

Marie shook her head and shivered in the cool evening air. She regretted not having had the foresight to bring her coat with her out of the theatre. However the fresh cold air had the desired effect and Marie’s senses instantly felt invigorated, the cobwebs of sleep being cast off in to the breeze.

Leaning her head back Marie sighed deeply. She was out of the apartment, that was something, but the demons who tormented her thoughts there had only followed her here. Looking out at the street she noted the darkened doorways, the pavement littered with flattened chewing gum and the walls adorned with graffiti. She missed the purity of Azriel. The way everyone there lived to better their world. She missed the colours and the beauty and wonder of it all but most of all she missed being a princess. Here, she was just somebody to be pitied; there she was someone to be revered.

“I’m no princess,” Marie said to herself. The sentiment was starting to feel more and more true. Azriel existed now but only in her dreams, did that mean she had imagined the whole thing? She’d read that people in comas report experiencing long drawn out, vivid dreams whilst unconscious. Was that all Azriel was? But if it was, what did that mean for her? Did it mean that all she had was a broken body and a tiny apartment?

“No,” Marie shook her head and turned to re-enter the cinema. She wouldn’t let her thoughts darken this night. Sebastian deserved to see her smile. She liked seeing him get absorbed in the movie, it was good for him. But if she didn’t get back soon he’d start to worry about her and possibly even leave the theatre.

Awkwardly, Marie pushed open the glass door as there was no well-meaning stranger nearby to assist her. The warm air of the foyer gathered around her pleasantly as she hobbled across the open carpeted space. She was around half way across when someone shouted;

“North!”

She froze and looked around. The foyer was pretty deserted as most screenings had already commenced for the evening. A few staff loitered around the main kiosk cleaning and chatting amongst themselves.

“North,” the voice came again.

Suddenly a tall woman with dark hair came running over to Marie, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Princess North,” she gasped. “I knew it was you.”

“Sorry, wh-what?” Marie looked at the stranger in utter disbelief.

“Oh, Princess, I’ve been searching for you,” the woman explained, rushing her words and delivering them with frightening urgency.

“You have?” Marie started to consider if she was dreaming and if she’d actually fallen asleep in the theatre and was now resting her head upon Sebastian’s strong shoulder.

“But of course,” the woman stated. She was considerably taller than Marie and looked down on her with a mixture of concern and awe in her eyes. She wore an immaculate long white coat which stopped just above her knees.

Marie tentatively glanced around her but she and the woman were very much alone in the foyer.

The woman reached out and grabbed Marie’s hands which were placed atop her crutches. Like Orion, she was surprisingly warm to the touch.

“You must return to Azriel,” she declared.

“Azriel?” Marie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Azriel needs you, Princess North, you must come back to us.”

Marie stared at the woman in complete shock.

“How could you-”

“There isn’t time! You must find a way back to us,” the woman declared, her tone insistent. She kept holding Marie’s hands as if terrified to let her go.

“I don’t know how to get back,” Marie admitted woefully.

“But you do,” the woman declared vaguely.

“Marie,” Sebastian’s alert voice carried across the foyer to them. The strange woman released her grip on Marie and instantly fled from the cinema, disappearing out of the glass doors and in to the night.

Marie attempted to follow her but her cumbersome crutches made her movements painfully slow and Sebastian had caught up to her before she’d even moved a foot.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding worried. “You were gone ages, I was worried you’d fallen or something.”

“I’m fine,” Marie stated, looking back towards the main doors. “I need to follow that woman.”

“What woman?”

Marie turned and stared at him. Surely he’d seen the woman talking with her when he entered the foyer.

“The woman I was just talking to,” Marie nodded towards the main doors, unable to gesture with her hands.

“I didn’t see any woman,” Sebastian answered blankly. “Let’s go back inside before we miss the end of the movie.”

“But I need to find her,” Marie made a few steps across the foyer but Sebastian placed a strong hand upon her shoulder, ceasing her movements.

“Marie, come on, you’ve been looking forward to this.” He turned her back towards the theatre where the movie was playing.

Marie hesitated. She glanced back towards the doors. Had the woman really been there or had she just imaged her? Was she now dreaming in broad daylight? Was she really that exhausted?

“Okay,” Marie conceded and allowed Sebastian to guide her back to the darkness of the theatre. All the while she kept stealing glances behind her, hoping to catch the flash of a brilliant white coat out on the street but she saw nothing. The woman who recognised her as Ariel’s Princess had disappeared.  

With her head lowered Marie returned to the cinema, to the science fiction epic which was reaching its conclusion. She wanted to believe that the woman in the foyer had been real but since Sebastian hadn’t seen her how could that be? Unless he was just pretending he hadn’t seen her. What if Azriel really did need her to return and everyone in this world was conspiring to keep her away?

Marie sat with her head leant against the window, watching the world pass by on the street below. The glass was cool and hard against her skin which brought comfort to the dull ache which constantly gnawed at her forehead.

“You’re quiet today,” Sebastian commented from his position on the sofa where he was stretched out reading
The Guardian
newspaper. He briefly peered over the top of the open page he was reading to glance at her. Marie didn’t respond.

Instead she watched the people on the pavement below hurrying along, steeling themselves against the cold wind which whipped through the London streets with icy force. People wore huge coats and woollen hats to keep themselves warm and were laden down with numerous shopping bags. Marie liked to look at the bags, at the impressive logos emblazoned on them which boasted of the designer contents they contained.

Christmas was coming.

The city of London sparkled magically as it heralded in the festive season and for the first time Marie didn’t hate the place which had become her home. The fairy lights which wove around tree trunks and laced their way between the lampposts reminded her of how Azriel sparkled. When darkness descended Marie loved to sit and watch the world beyond her window twinkle.

But it was currently too early for the lights to be on. It was Sunday morning and the air was crisp with the threat of snow.

“Apparently it might snow,” Sebastian noted as he read the weather forecast in the paper.

“I hope so,” Marie replied softly. She remembered snow. She remembered how it would cover the world in a pure white blanket making everything seem serene. She wanted that to happen again.

“We need it to hold off until after Christmas though or else we might not be able to get back to your Mum and Dad’s.”

Marie rolled her eyes. With Christmas came the commitment to return to her parent’s home, to the homage to the colour pink which she’d once called a bedroom. Marie was reluctant to leave London. It was here that she’d been approached by the woman who spoke of Azriel. As much as Marie accepted that she’d probably dreamt the encounter a part of her clung to the vain hope that perhaps the woman had actually been real.

*

Sebastian Fenwick glanced over the paper unfolded in his hands pretending to read but unable to be absorbed by anything. Across from him his fiancée maintained her endless vigil at the window of her apartment. Ever since the Christmas lights had gone up she’d spent hours at the window, entranced as they sparkled in the darkness.

Christmas had always been such a joyous time for them as a couple. They’d go shopping, visit festive markets and drink hot chocolate by an open fire. At Christmas they became that nauseating couple that everyone else avoided. But not this year. This year was set to be markedly different from all those that had proceeded it.

Marie still hadn’t returned to him. Though he was hopeful that every day he was closer to bringing her back. They were only several days in to the month of December and already they had watched four Christmas films together which Marie had enjoyed and even smiled at. But suddenly she was holding Sebastian at what felt like an extended distance. She refused any assistance when walking on her crutches and now insisted on showering alone even though it took her the better part of an hour to do so. He couldn’t help but fear that although he’d done all he could to help her, that he’d not done enough.

He wasn’t sure if the counselling sessions were helping. Marie attended them dutifully enough but always emerged from them unaltered. He kept hoping that she would have some epiphany and come bursting in to the waiting room wearing her brightest smile, her eyes alight when she saw him. They’d embrace and she’d tell him that she was all better and that their life together could finally start in earnest.

But instead each time Marie returned to the waiting room she looked distant, her eyes glued to the carpeted floor as she tottered uneasily on her crutches. Sebastian would jump to his feet to assist her and she’d glare at him, stating how she had to do it on her own.

*

“So, Marie, why don’t you tell me how your week has been?” Dr Colton prompted as Marie sat awkwardly on the sofa across from him. No matter how many times he asked she refused to lie upon it as it would be far too difficult for her to get back up. And so she was sat on a chaise lounge, perched nervously on the edge, ready to struggle to her feet at a moment’s notice.

“It’s been good,” Marie replied simply.

“Are you looking forward to Christmas?” Dr Colton enquired, peering at her from behind his round rimmed spectacles.

He was a portly man in his early fifties with thinning grey hair and tired green eyes. He wore a three piece suit, the waistcoat of which struggled to cover his burgeoning mid drift. His office always smelt of lavender. A technique he employed to try and relax his clients. But Marie didn’t like the smell. It reminded her too much of her late Grandmother who exclusively used Estee Lauder Lavender on a daily basis for almost forty years.

Some pieces of Marie’s life had returned to her since the accident. She recalled her childhood, growing up in Manchester playing with her Barbie dolls and singing all the songs to the Little Mermaid at the top of her voice. But whilst the memories were there they felt like they weren’t truly hers, as though she had watched a movie of someone else’s life and was merely remembering that.

“Sebastian tells me that you two used to really enjoy Christmas,” Dr Colton added.

“I like the lights,” Marie shrugged.

“Christmas lights?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you like them?”

“I like how they make the world…magical,” Marie lit up as she said the last word.

“So you like the world to feel magical?”

Marie’s smile instantly fell flat and she looked away from the older man. She’d already said too much. No one understood about Azriel and if they did, they weren’t to be trusted as they were withholding her from the world where she truly belonged.

“Did I say something to upset you?” Dr Colton enquired with concern, leaning forward in his leather armchair.

“No,” Marie looked at him and forced herself to smile sweetly. She loathed his office. It had a forced casual air which made her uncomfortable. There was a garish rug upon the floor and a small fireplace which was always simmering away after previously hosting some grey flames.

Dr Colton had gone to great lengths to make his office feel homely and inviting but ultimately it all just felt too false. No one lived there, it was still a place of work no matter how many potted plants or framed pieces of art he adorned the place with.

“Marie, do you feel like you belong here?” he asked bluntly.

Marie frowned at the question. Which here was he referring to? Did he mean the office or was he talking on a grander scale? Did he mean the world? In both instances her answer would be no.

Cautiously Marie shook her head. 

“Many patients who’ve suffered excessive trauma like you have struggle to adapt to the real world once they’ve recovered,” he said empathetically.

“You’ve been coming here for a few weeks now and we’ve not seen much progress. You remain detached from the world around you, why do you think that is?”

Marie frowned. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one with all the answers? Dr Colton remained silent and stared intently at her. It was a tactic he often used when he wanted Marie to respond. He knew that if he maintained an awkward silence for long enough she’d eventually find it unbearable and say something.

“Because I don’t belong here,” Marie replied quickly.

“Where do you think you belong?” Dr Colton was writing in his notepad as his spoke.

“Not here.”

“Your family think that talking to someone like myself will benefit you, will help you feel like you belong again.”

“They’re wrong.” Marie stated factually.

“How can you be so certain of that?”

Marie rolled her eyes and searched the room for a clock, remembering that there wasn’t one. Time seemed to lose all meaning when speaking with Dr Colton. Yet another trick to lure patients in to a false sense of security.

She began to pick at a stray piece of cotton which had come loose from the jogging bottoms she was wearing. She liked wearing loose clothing like jogging bottoms and sweat shirts as they didn’t cling too tightly to her sore limbs. Everything was still so tender. Her legs constantly throbbed and ached, as did her head and her chest burned with pain every time she sneezed or coughed. They were all very prominent, consistent reminders of what her body had been through. It made escaping the accident almost impossible.

“Why don’t we talk about the day of the accident?” Dr Colton suggested, trying a new angle.

“Okay.”

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you remember being in your car?”

“Not really.”

“What about when you were in a coma? Do you remember anything from that time?”

Marie tensed on the chaise lounge, the gesture making her wince slightly. Did Dr Colton know about Azriel? His line of questioning seemed to be luring her in to revealing her time spent there but she couldn’t trust this man, she barely knew him.

“Sometimes patients recall having very vivid dreams whilst in a coma, have you heard that before?”

“Yes,” Marie nodded trying to sound non-committal.

“Did you have any dreams you can remember?”

“This is all just a waste of time,” Marie declared heatedly. She reached for her crutches and began to position them so she could stand up.

“Marie, I’m just trying to help,” Dr Colton said softly. “Everyone just wants you to get better.”

Marie ignored him as she carefully hoisted herself up on to her sore legs, leaning heavily on her crutches. She looked incredulously at him.

“Wounds will heal in time,” the doctor told her, his voice soothing. “What I’m concerned with are the wounds which we can’t see, the wounds inflicted upon the mind.”

“But don’t you see,” Marie raged, weary of him psychoanalysing her. “I don’t belong here!”

Marie hated getting upset. When she got upset the pain in her forehead grew in intensity and made her vision blur. She needed to remain calm.

“Then where do you belong?” Dr Colton asked, careful not to stand up and assist Marie. The last time he’d tried to help her she’d been furious. It was extremely important that she maintain some semblance of independence and control. 

“Not here! I belong someplace where I’m important! Someplace better than here!” Marie had struggled over to the door and was about to head in to the waiting room.

“I’ll see you next week, Marie,” Dr Colton said calmly as Marie manoeuvred herself through the door and let it slam shut behind her.

Alone in his office Dr Colton quickly completed his notes about his meeting with Marie. She had demonstrated numerous red flags which concerned him but then she always did. What saddened him was that she didn’t seem interested in getting better mentally. It was as if something in her had switched off after the accident and she no longer engaged with the world as she once had.

Her parting words danced around in his head and he quickly scribbled one closing assessment of their meeting which he underlined several times, certain that it was the root cause of her apparent displacement in personality. The word looked out at him, harsh and finite in its accusation. But Dr Colton was growing ever certain that it was correct. At the base of his notes read his verdict upon Marie;

Delusional