Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

cheer, then she saw the headline and her face dimmed.

“Oh, Hazel. Just that on the news. Says there’s going to be more cuts!”

Sanders stopped next to them, her eyes on the screen. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. We’re not losing any more staff.”

“Is there an inspection next week?”

She turned distractedly to look at them, “Yes, but it’ll be fine.” “I’ll talk to him when he comes and tell him like it is.” She smiled assurance. “Johnny has been sick again. Could you two go and clean it up, please?”

The two nurses left the room together. Sanders watched them go, then took one of their seats. A correspondent stood outside Downing Street, talking animatedly. Below him little numerical digits rolled from right to left, which were soon replaced by 29th October 2010, UK enters worst recession since 2008. Prime minister David Cameron says, “Not to panic.”

Sanders back and shoulders rose and fell. Her hands went to her head.

Suddenly her neck spun round and she looked at me. Her surprise gave way to recognition, then anguish, and she winced as if in pain.

“Aisha!” she said, “I never saw you there. Look, I’m” she glanced down, “sorry. For earlier. But you need to take your tablets, okay? It’s really important.”

Her vulnerability was palpable. She looked like she really meant it.

“No hard feelings, eh?” She kept staring, her eyes begging forgiveness.

I didn’t know what else to do. I forced a smile back.

“That’s a girl.” She relaxed, and smiled warmly. She turned her ponytail on me again.

 David Cameron to meet Chancellor tomorrow, rolled across the screen.

Chapter 14

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. When at last the key clicked and the three knocks rapped on the door I got up and headed down with the others, towards the racket of TV audience cheering and canned laughter. In the blackness outside only the half-empty car park showed under the orange light. It looked freezing too, but I was still desperate to be out there, in the relative freedom. Anywhere, instead of stuck in there.

I entered the common room. The X-Factor's cacophony was deafening. I took in the TV crowd, sitting comatose with their dinner plates, and then I spotted Nina, in that same seat by the window, staring out into black.

Liz called me and I took my dinner plate and searched the room, seeing the twins by themselves at the same table, and joining the other one. Three of the four patients there were doped up to the eyeballs, two of them slavering into their food. The fourth guy was Sandy, the Yorkshire guy from group therapy. He had on the same red checked shirt and was eating quietly.

I sat in the seat next to him, as he poked his plastic fork into a chip and lifted it to his mouth.

“Hey,” I said, “is it Sandy?”

He turned his head slowly and squinted at me through his bloodshot, lidded eyes. The three lines on his forehead creased. His bristly stubble was grey at the tips, but his eyebrows and the tufty hair that circled his bald patch were white as snow.

“How are you? I’m Aisha.” I smiled.

“Yeah, ah eard you this mornin.” he said through his mouthful. “Am okay thanks. And you?”

“I’m not bad. How you feeling after that class today?”

His eyes widened a little. A moment's hesitancy stalled his whole body. I glanced behind me to see if anyone was listening in or something. The staff were at the food trolley on the other side of the room, way out of earshot.

He swallowed and blinked several times, and stabbed his fork back into his plate. “She’s right,” he said. “We are lucky ere. I shoont be moaning.”

“I’m not gonna say anything.” I said. I ate some of my steak pie and beans. “Why shouldn’t you get day release? And we should all be getting outside daily. Do you not think that’s fair?”

“It int about what’s fair” he said. “We are really lucky ere. I don’t knaw what I’d do, or where I’d be wi’out this place.”

I ate some more. The X-Factor wailed out, and I had to talk loudly next to his ear, “Do you mind me asking, what you did when you went away? What did Lucinda mean?”

He stiffened again. He shook his head, concentrating on his food. “I don’t want t’ talk bout that just now.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I said. “Okay. It’s your choice.”

But then something, maybe the sincerity of my apology, made him shoot his head round and stare at me full-on. It was like I’d flicked some psychic button in him. His face came so close to mine I could see the little hairs up his nose, and for a moment I thought he was going to nut me. Crazed, green pupils peered deep, seeming to be staring straight into my soul. I felt uncomfortable, but held my ground, and the longer he looked the more confident I felt that he wasn’t actually going to hit me.

It was like a bizarre form of initiation, but he seemed to accept what he had found. The ominous glare faded, and a warmer countenance took its place. He turned away with a mischievous grin.

“Why are you smiling?” I asked, and smiled myself at his complete lack of social etiquette.

He grinned wider, showing his straight white teeth for the first time. His eyes sparkled as he did so, and I felt briefly like I was actually talking to a real person, that his spirit hadn’t been snuffed out like it seemed to have been for so many of the others here.

I waited for him to reply. Eventually, he stopped grinning and ate some more food.

“So, how long is it since we’ve been outside?” I asked.

He looked up thoughtfully, “Bout’ two months.”

“Two months!”

He nodded.

I checked behind me, to the TV crowd- all the fatties eyeballing some karaoke queen.