Bad Friends. Claire Seeber

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Two

      Fortunately for the show, Sally’s anti turned up just in time to go on air. Unfortunately for him, though. The poor man never had a hope in hell. He was just fodder, pure gladiatorial bait – thrown to the hungry audience who were ready for a mauling. Simeon Fernandez, his name was. He was some kind of new-age cognitive therapist wanting to expound his theories on post-traumatic stress being purely in the mind. More to the point, he had a new book to promote. And it was he who brought Fay and me together.

      Renee gave Fernandez the floor very early. His fleshy face was flushed with self-importance as he waffled on a bit about this theory and that, Renee pacing lightly behind him, her deadly stance disguised in casual lilac batwings. Lilac mohair. I tried to concentrate, staring hard at Fernandez’s chins that wobbled as he spoke. I wondered if Renee’s jumper was as scratchy as it looked. My leg was really aching, and my little toe had just begun to itch inside the cast when my name resounded like a whip-crack round the studio.

      My head snapped up; apparently Renee was introducing me. There was really no escape now as ‘Victim Maggie Warren’ bounced off the walls to the sympathy of those devils in the audience. I forced a smile (though I knew Charlie would have much preferred a sob) and then Renee was on me. She came right up and took the chair beside me, perching on the very edge so she could really get to me. I tried not to lean away. Our knees were actually touching and I could smell her cloying scent, so sweet and sickly that my stomach churned – or perhaps that was the booze. I realised too late I couldn’t back up in my seat without my crutch clattering loudly to the ground. I was stranded there; so near that I could count the open pores round her nose. She held my hand, and looked deep into my eyes. Her coloured contact lenses were unnaturally bright in the hideous studio light, and I stifled the urge to laugh hysterically.

      ‘Mr Fernandez has written a book on stress,’ Renee breathed at me, her Welsh lilt so soft and caring. ‘He thinks it’s in the mind, and we must fight to overcome it,’ – Mr Fernandez nodded smugly, his chins juddering like Sunday custard in a jug – ‘but, Maggie, you’re testament to the fact that a terrible accident can utterly change your life, aren’t you?’

      Was I?

      ‘Am I?’

      I blinked. The muscle in my cheek twitched with an influx of adrenaline.

      Renee frowned. Her pancake cracked a little. Charlie coughed most unsubtly from the sidelines. Utter silence fell; the audience leaned forward as one. They waited. I waited. Renee covered my hand kindly (she hadn’t so much as shaken it in the past two years) with both of hers – and then I pulled it back quickly, suppressing an exclamation. I was sure she’d pinched me; just a tiny pinch, so tiny that no one else would know, but a pinch nevertheless. I absorbed Charlie’s scowl; remembered his words the other night. I breathed deeply. Auto-drive clicked on.

      ‘Sorry. Yes.’ How alien Renee’s eyes looked. Other-worldly. ‘Of course it did. Has. It’s turned everything on its head. I –’ I paused for what must have seemed like effect, searching desperately for something sensible to say. Anything to say. ‘I don’t think my life will ever be the same again.’

      Renee sat up in triumph. I’d come up trumps. I slumped in my seat. God, it was hot in here. Fernandez immediately weighed in, uninvited, with how I should overcome my trauma. I was still a young woman, I mustn’t give in to my weaknesses. I must believe in positive thought.

      ‘Come on, Maggie. Stress is all in the mind, I promise you.’ He looked at the audience hopefully. I looked at him mournfully. I tapped my bad leg sadly. And then I wasn’t acting any longer; I was transported briefly into the heart of my own pain.

      ‘This, though, Mr Fernandez, my damaged leg, I mean, this isn’t in the mind – is it?’ A bubble of misery, like an astronaut’s helmet, sealed snug around my head. I must shake it off. Showing real emotion on live TV was not my intention. ‘I might never walk properly again,’ I murmured. ‘I used to run, you know.’

      The audience went wild in their seats. They were sure of Mr Fernandez’s role now. He was the Wolf to my Red Riding Hood, the absolute villain on the floor, and they could rip into him as they’d been primed. I swallowed hard and milked it like I knew I must.

      ‘I can’t work. I need to have help at home,’ (sort of true) ‘I have nightmares.’ (Painfully true. I couldn’t continue on that tack.) I twisted the tissue that Renee had pressed into my hand; recovered myself just enough to go on. I cleared my throat.

      ‘I have a bad limp, I’ve had to have my foot put back in plaster again because –’

      A little voice chimed in. ‘It’s changed my life utterly too.’

      Renee turned to the voice, the epitome of eager concern. ‘Fay Carter, you too were on the coach that crashed that terrible night. Can you tell us exactly what happened? We can see Maggie is struggling to give us the painful facts.’

      A matronly woman in the front row actually said ‘Ah.’ I smiled weakly, the last lot of painkillers finally kicking in. But Fay was only too glad to join the fray – like a sleek little greyhound tensed against the starting-gate, she was off. I slumped with relief. Surely I’d done enough?

      I thought desperately of the drink tucked beneath my chair. I could see Amanda with her stopwatch. We must be nearing the break now, please God. I could feel myself beginning to sweat again as I flicked in and out of Fay’s words. The truth was – and how Renee would have loved this, should I have cared to share it with her – the truth was, the accident was too agonising to recall.

      ‘And I was travelling back to London to see my boyfriend, really excited, you know how it is when you haven’t seen them for a while.’ The audience ah-ed again. They loved a love story – though they definitely preferred a fistfight, given the choice.

      ‘I’d just walked up and down the coach to use the loo, too much tea, you know.’ She smiled up at the audience, the audience smiled fondly back. This girl knew how to work it. ‘I saw Maggie there when I passed, she was asleep.’ She turned her headlamp eyes on me. ‘Sleeping like a baby, СКАЧАТЬ