I know, but cut me some slack here.
He didn’t answer, gently peeling off the dressing to see the damage. I’m a qualified Field Medic and I’m damned sure it shouldn’t look like that.
He rummaged in our first aid kit, pulling out a syringe.
‘What’s that?’
‘Antibiotics. A lot of antibiotics. Hold still.’
‘Not in this arm,’ I said, being a baby.
‘Don’t worry. I’m going to make a start on the other arm, now.’
He disposed of the empty syringe and sat back.
‘I’ll get you some water.’
‘I’m not thirsty.’
‘You must drink. Just sip it.’
I did as I was told. A bit of a first, but I really didn’t feel that good.
‘Would you like some tea?’
No, actually, I wouldn’t, but if I said so then he’d really start to worry, so I nodded. I would just forget to drink it.
He brought it over and it was perfect. He’d remembered to get fresh lemons, so there were two slices of lemon, just the way I liked it. He sat down alongside and helped me hold the mug.
‘Just a sip.’
I did try.
‘And another.’
Apparently satisfied, he took the mug off me. I closed my eyes.
‘No. Don’t go to sleep.’
He was right. Sleeping was a bad idea. I didn’t want those dreams again. Not with a witness, anyway.
He’d turned the lights down very low. The pod was silent. Even the little background electronic noises had ceased.
He took my one working hand and gently rubbed his thumb across my knuckles.
‘So who’s Bear?’
Oh, shit. I’d been talking about Bear.
I said nothing for a long time. He didn’t repeat the question, but it didn’t go away, either.
So who was Bear?
I wondered how much he knew. Wondered if my past life here was the same as my past life there. With my luck, it would be worse.
I don’t know if it was the infection floating around my system, the fever, the knowledge I might be dying, or a combination of all of these. It might even be that something in my head decided, after years of silence, it was time to tell the story of Bear.
I spoke into the cold darkness.
‘I’d always had Bear. I don’t know where he came from or who gave him to me, but I’d always had him. And no, he wasn’t the traditional teddy, all grubby, with bare patches and one eye missing. I looked after him. He was my best friend. We had adventures together. We flew to the moon and found it was made of cheese. We rode the waves with the mermaids. We lived in imaginary kingdoms.’ I stopped suddenly. ‘I … loved my Bear.’
There was no sound in the darkness.
When I could, I continued.
‘On my ninth birthday, we had a party. Afterwards, I was in my room, about to get ready for bed and telling Bear all about it.’
I paused again.
‘My mother wouldn’t let me wear my Captain Spaceman pyjamas. She laid out a long white nightie. It was very pretty, with flowers and birds embroidered all over. I preferred Captain Spaceman, but I didn’t argue. She said I’d like it. She said I looked like a princess. And Bear said I looked like a princess, too. She combed my hair and tied it up in long white ribbons. I asked her why and she said my father wanted to see me in his study and I should look pretty because it was my birthday. She spent ages getting the bows even. She said it was important. Even Bear got a white bow around his neck.
‘I was excited because I liked his study. He had a skeleton called William – and if I could name five bones, I won half a crown. Sometimes he would take down a book and show me pictures. He was teaching me to play chess. So I was pleased and excited. I picked up Bear and tucked him under my arm, she took my hand, and we walked down the stairs to his study. She wouldn’t let me wear slippers and the floors were cold.’
I stopped. My heart was hammering away and I could feel the sweat running down my back. Just say it, Maxwell.
‘She opened the door. She didn’t look at me. She said, “In you go, then. He’s waiting for you.” Then she walked away.’
I took two or three deep breaths, but it was too late to stop now.
‘I never saw Bear again.’
Silence.
‘I don’t know what happened to him.’
More silence.
‘He’s out there, somewhere. Lost in the dark. We both were. I never found him. No one helped me. My mother bought me another teddy and I threw it away. She kept telling me to stop crying because my father liked his little girl to smile, that I should always smile for him … because that’s what he liked … but I never would. I cried for my Bear and it made him angry. Everyone was angry with me. Just because I’d lost my Bear and wouldn’t smile …
I broke off, because in the darkness, I heard a tiny crack.
‘What was that?’
‘Stupid mug,’ he said, lightly. ‘The handle just fell off.’
‘Did you hurt yourself?’
‘No.’
We both sat in the darkness. Now what?
I said quietly, ‘You’re angry too, aren’t you?’