Flux

“Doesn’t look like it,” he wasn’t really that bothered.
    “How are things?”
    “Terrible.”
    She looked concerned, “shall I make you a drink and you can tell me all about it?” already moving towards the kitchen
    “If you want,” Iain shrugged.
    “So, how are you feeling?” she asked.
    He didn’t know where to start, there was so much to tell. It had felt good telling Tim about his problems and he did need to talk, although he didn’t think Eve was restrained by the same vows of silence. “Not so good to be honest.”
    “In what way?”
    Iain now knew he had to share what he was going through and had no chance of keeping his job anyway. How was he to pay the rent? He didn’t know and pushed the thought from his mind knowing it would make him ill with worry. “I’ve been feeling a little down.”
    “Down?”
    “Yes, like erm, depressed. And there’s more.”
    “Like what? Are you still having the dreams?”
    “Yes. And I, err, see things.”
    “What sort of things?”
    “Ghosts.”
    Eve didn’t bat an eyelid, sitting patiently while he continued to tell her about the ghosts, about Bertie and his visions of the abyss.
    “I’ve been very tempted to give and join them,” he said glumly after finishing his story, the only part he’d missed out was the self-harm. Becoming acutely aware of the welts on his arm, he made no attempt to hide them, just didn’t mention them.
    “Does anybody else know?” she asked him.
    “Yes, the hospital clergyman.”
    “He’s a good man, a bit misguided sometimes but good none the less.”
    The tears came once again, Eve held out her arms for an embrace and Iain fell into them gladly. His head resting on her bosom, he felt at peace for the first time in as long as he could remember. She cupped his head in her hands, stroking his hair.
    “Shhh, don’t you worry about a thing.”
    “What about work?”
    “Not important.”
    “What’s happening to me?” his voice that of a frightened child.
    “Sshhh, don’t worry,” the only response.
    Iain accepted it as enough, for now content simply to be comforted by her gentle embrace.

    Amazed by the calming effect of Eve’s visit, Iain whistled as he tidied the house and washed up, the windows wide open. The phone rang and he searched frantically for it, not wanting to miss the call. He eventually found it on the floor by the TV; the screen cracked and the back missing with the battery absent.
    Here we go again, he thought, staring at the device. He pressed the red button to finish the impossible ringing. A few seconds later it started again, but that’s impossible!
    Although it was the last thing he wanted to do, he answered. The sound of the baby’s cries reached his ears. He still didn’t know what it meant as he threw the broken phone to the ground, stamping on it and grinding it into tiny pieces with his heel until eventually, with the speaker mangled, the line went dead. The sound of wailing became replaced with his own.

Chapter Seventeen
    Morris Dancers Lead a Merry Dance

    Iain was waiting by the door, bags packed when he heard the horn beep from outside. Gary needn’t have bothered, the sound of the car stereo more than enough to announce his arrival; the music loud enough to be recognised. Humming along to Sepulchre’s Roots bloody roots, he bounded down the steps; his leg feeling well enough to leave the crutches at home. He’d only just about managed to get ready on time, after having to dig through his drawers to find an old phone to replace the one he’d broken.
    Clambering into the back door of the battered escort, the music had changed to Metallica blasting out Master of Puppets. The lyrics made Iain think too much about his experiences, shouting into Gary’s ear, he asked if he had something else, something more fitting to his mood and the weather. With a smile, Gary pushed the button and heavy music became replaced by clean guitars and Blind Melon’s, No Rain. Dave passed a joint back from the front passenger seat, Iain thanked him and sat back to enjoy the ride.
    The skies were clear blue and the early morning sun already warm as they pulled away and before long, they were leaving behind the grime of the town and joining the motorway. With the wind coming in through the open windows, ruffling his hair and some of his favourite music coming from the speakers either side of his head, Iain felt better than he had in longer than he could remember. They didn’t exactly speed