My Second Life Read Free

I knew her face.
    An image flew through my mind: a child, a small child, with her eyes open wide … wet and wild … her body, still … cradled by a mass of twigs and branches in the water …
    I thought I might pass out. I took a deep breath in.
    â€œShe didn’t look so well, did she?” said Rachel, utterly mishearing me. “Let’s go, come on. Let’s get fish and chips.”
    And as we walked out into the cooler air I could feel that something had changed. There had been a shift — in me — and I had this feeling. A feeling that I had done something so wrong … so very wrong that I didn’t dare to name it … And I was afraid.

 
    tuesday
    2
    I WENT BACK TO visit Grillie the following day. She was better: less pale, her eyelids less droopy. She was offering me strawberries and interrupting me all the time, so I knew she was on her way to being well again. And she was impatient to tell me all the details of her new roommate.
    â€œThe one next door,” she mouthed in a theatrical whisper, pointing in the direction of the other bed. I nodded to stop her pointing and mouthing the words. “She’s in a terrible state. Terrible. Been up all night crying with the pain.”
    I stood up and pulled the curtain around the bed quickly, to give us some privacy. I could tell Grillie was kind of enjoying the drama of it all and I didn’t want the woman in the next bed to hear her talking on. “Did you sleep all right, though?” I said.
    â€œMe? Oh yes. Fine. I woke up a couple of times, you know, with the noise” — and again she pointed — “but generally I slept fine. Can’t wait to get home now. Get back into my own bed. And the food is pretty awful.”
    â€œRachel’s made a pie for when you get home. Chicken. It’s in the freezer.”
    â€œOh, lovely,” she said. “I’ll look forward to that.”
    We sat in silence for a moment. I could hear a voice, a doctor, talking to the woman in the opposite bed. Something about tests and needing to go down to the ground floor, and an aide coming in about an hour.
    â€œOpen the curtain a little, lovely. Just in case the doctor’s got anything to say to me too.”
    I stood up to open the curtain and smiled to myself. I knew Grillie just wanted a good nosy at her roommate. I didn’t blame her. There wasn’t much else to do, and I’d forgotten to buy the magazine I’d promised.
    â€œShall I go down and get you that magazine?” I said.
    â€œDon’t bother, honestly. I can’t really concentrate on anything for too long at the moment. Reading just sends me to sleep. I’m fine. Just open the curtain some more. Get the light in here. I’d have liked a bed right next to the window. Lots of light. But they put me here. A bed by the window would have been nice, wouldn’t it?”
    â€œA room with a view,” I said, smiling. “Yes, that would have been nice, Grillie. Very nice.” And as I walked the curtain all the way around the bed and pushed it firmly against the wall I saw the person in the bed next to Grillie’s — next to where I stood. Frances Wells. She was still, motionless. I was close enough to reach out and touch her.
    My body tensed up until all I could feel was the pain as my muscles contracted hard under my skin. If I could have pulled myself inward and retracted, into nothing, I would have done it. A sickness was rising up from my belly, slowly, steadily.
    She’d been the one wailing all night. She’d been the one in pain. It was Frances Wells. And she didn’t know that I was here — now — that I had been Emma.
    My chest pounded as the sickness traveled upward toward my throat. I tried to swallow it down, and as I did I was filled with a stark and vivid memory. I was outside a house. A big house. Frances was inside. I could see her through the