Then he’d tell me to wait and see.
Screw the appointment. I’d played nice so far, done everything I had to, but I’d not noticed any changes. They’d told me that it’d take a while but I was sick of it. This damn banging in my head drove me crazy. I’d sleep it off and make sure I made the next appointment. One time wouldn’t hurt.
What was the point of it, anyway?
I threw off my clothes and climbed into bed. My body ached from sleeping on the floor and I’d bashed my shin at some point the night before. Even after having a shower, the stench of whiskey came out in my sweat. I was in no fit state for human company.
About five-ish, I woke up and felt well enough for another drink. I dragged my sorry arse down to Trouble. No one need know I’d skipped the appointment. I’d tell Gina it was business as usual. Which it would’ve been, if I’d gone.
The skin on my hand itched under the splint. I wished they take the bloody thing off me but the doctor had said I still needed it for a week or so.
“If you want this to heal right, you need the splint. Just bear with it for a while longer.”
Easy for him to say, bear with it. He didn’t have his hand skin itching like a bastard.
Gina has thought it was a good sign when it first happened. “You must be able to feel something if it itches.”
“It’s not like that, it’s in the skin, not the nerve. I can feel with the side of my hand.” I showed her the bits that worked, “but not my fingers.”
I hated lying. I hated making excuses too but, if told Gina I’d skipped the appointment, she’d have a whole lot to say about it. That you can be sure of.
When she came into the bar, I waved her over but she didn’t smile. Usually, her smile brightened my day. A whole load of guilt swept through me but there was no way she’d know. She’d been at work all day.
We sat together, chatting as usual. Things between us were strange. We were together yet we weren’t.
She seemed distracted, like she was thinking about something else. Maybe she had work problems. There was something she wanted to say, it hung in the air between us.
“How are things at work?”
“Okay, at the moment,” she said. “A bit better than usual.”
I was proud that she’d stood up to those bitches. She let them walk over her too much. I knew she hated her job too. She said she needed to money but I wanted her to do something that filled her with joy, not just a paycheck.
The night seemed flat. I wondered if I should offer to walk her home. That might be the signal I needed to give. I pressed my knee against hers.
For once, she moved her leg away. I looked to her for some sign of what was going on but she didn’t acknowledge what she’d done.
It was early when she decided to leave. I stood up too.
“That’s okay, I can get home myself.”
If that’s what she wanted, I guess I was okay with it.
She hesitated for a moment. She had something on her mind.
“The hospital called me today. They wanted to know why you didn’t turn up for your appointment. I was hoping you’d tell me.”
Fuck, my stomach churned. I’d been caught out. I’d lied to her and she knew it. I’d forgotten that I’d given them her number as a contact. I was a dick, like a school kid caught out at cheating. Really fucking mature.
“I can explain,” I said.
She shook her head. “It’s not my business. You’re the one who needs to recover, not me. You’ve got to be responsible for yourself.”
She wasn’t angry, just really sad.
When she left the bar, I shook my head. I’d fucked t
hings up real bad.