Still Human

Chapter Four Liv You gave us all a fright!

“I can do it.” I snap at Max as he fusses around behind me. I’ve managed to get myself to standing on the curb and I’m just organising my crutches. Max is trying to erect the wheelchair, but I’m not being wheeled across the threshold in that thing.

“I’m sure I can manage the ten feet to the door if you could just make yourself useful and open it for me,” I say with an irritable tone. If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate well it’s the loss of my independence and I just know I’m going to be taking it out on those I love, namely Max. The thing that irritates me the most is that I know how unreasonable I’m being. I didn’t really sleep last night after that heartbreaking dream. I know it wasn’t real, but it was so devastating, I still feel tears prick my eyes if I think about it.

Before it happens again, I start off towards the door and Max scoots ahead to open it for me. I’m greeted warmly by the staff and a couple of customers who are surprised to see the state of me. I sit on the nearest chair slowly, so that I can just rest for a minute. Using crutches doesn’t exactly come naturally and my hand isn’t helping either. My middle two ‘gripping’ fingers are quite sore from being slammed into the ground by a power tool. As it turns out, the forefinger and thumb alone, have very limited gripping power, especially when burdened with the weight of a whole person. The little finger is obviously of no use whatsoever…so I can hardly grip the crutches, well the right one at least. It looks like I will need that fucking wheelchair if I hope to see daylight anytime soon.

Well at least I showed everyone that I can stand on one of my own two feet, for a minute. I just couldn’t face them feeling sorry for me being pushed around by Max. Me, with no boyfriend, back from America all sad and now I can’t even walk, so pathetic. I can feel myself getting angry today. I refuse to feel sorry for myself so I have to direct it somewhere. Fucking Danny. This is all his fault. If he wasn’t so selfish, none of this would be happening. Thankfully my thoughts are broken by some of the kitchen staff coming out to see me.

“You gave us all a fright!” says Jake. “Let me make you some lunch,” he adds, as always trying to fix it with food.

“Thanks Jake, I’ll get settled upstairs first, then send Max down for something. Where is Max?” I ask, realising he has disappeared.

“Taking your stuff upstairs,” says Ali.

“Here he is,” says Jake.

“Here I am,” says Max, looking all pleased with himself. “Come on then, let’s get you upstairs.”

I roll my eyes at Ali, who giggles sympathetically. “Text me if you need anything,” she says.

“Thanks,” I mouth at her as I’m helped to my feet.

Slowly, I make my way to the back of the diner and Max holds open the door for me. I stare up the staircase, it’s longer than I remember, but I suppose the diner has high ceilings and all sorts of ducting. It’s like a floor and a half at least. Taking a deep breath, I try the first step and wobble. My weight tips back and I feel like I’m losing my balance. Luckily, Max is just behind me and I’m prevented from needing to put my foot down to steady myself.

“Just let me carry you,” he says.

“No!” I insist. “Here,” I say, handing him my crutches. Then I carefully turn and sit on the first step. My plan is to climb up backwards on my bottom. But as I put my hands on the step behind me and try to take my weight, pain radiates through my chest. I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus today, everything aches. Even lifting the bed covers off me in the hospital hurt. I suppose I did fall from quite a height. I burst into tears and drop my head in my hands.

“You are so fucking stubborn!” Max tuts. I feel his arms around me and I’m gently lifted. With ease, he carries me up the stairs to my flat and puts me down carefully on the sofa, kissing the top of my head as he lets go.

“Thanks.” I sniff. What would I do if I didn’t have Max?

“Hey.” He sits beside me and lifts my leg onto a footstool I don’t recognise. “Don’t get upset. It will just take some time.”

“I know.” I sob. “But work was keeping me sane. Now I’m stuck here.” I gesture at my surroundings. Then I notice all of the changes. Firstly three huge bunches of flowers are dotted around the room. The largest display is on the table beside me along with several envelopes. The whole place smells clean and fresh. The furniture in the living area has all shifted slightly and as well as this footstool, there is a table on wheels that I can pull over my lap, with Danny’s Mac set up on it. I wipe my eyes and notice that on the arm of the sofa are the remotes for everything including a small silver one I don’t recognise.

“Why is it all different?’ I ask.

“We got some stuff ready for you, so that you can keep busy while you get better.” He smiles. “Computer, remotes, footrest, your laptop is in your room, we got you a TV in there too and linked it to your Sky. That way, wherever you want to be, you don’t have to carry anything. If you want to watch TV but lie in bed at the same time, you can.”

“Wow. But this isn’t mine,” I say pointing at the computer.

“I know, but it’s in your flat, so I say, use it.” He winks. “I’ve had a look at it, it’s hardly been used. I’ve set up your emails and Facebook and copied your iTunes onto it, so there is no trace of it being anyone else’s.” He means he has cleared all evidence of Danny off it. Well, I’m not going on it anyway. I don’t want to check my emails or Facebook, for the same reason I binned my phone.

“What’s this?” I ask holding up the tiny silver remote.

“The best bit!” Max says like a kid at Christmas. He switches on the TV and then presses a button on the remote. The Apple logo appears on the screen and in a few seconds he shows me that I can access my iTunes library. “You can watch all the films you have on iTunes.”

“I don’t have any,” I say incredulously.

He selects films on the screen and there are a dozen or so of my favourites. He grins at me. “You do now.” He laughs, “And it’s in your room too!”

“How have you managed this? I’ve only been gone a day and you've been with me most of the time.”

“I had some help.” He says and disappears into the kitchen. He comes out with a jug of water and a glass, goes to my bag and fetches the pharmacy bag from the hospital. “Now, you need to take these and then I’ll get you some coffee and lunch from downstairs.”

I huff as Max puts pills into my hand and hands me the glass of water.

“What do you fancy for lunch?” he asks.

“Surprise me,” I say as I flip through my new films on Apple TV. I must go on about these films more than I realised because it’s like my all-time favourites list, some I haven’t seen since my teens. How did he know? I put ‘The Secret of my Success’ on because I haven’t seen it in years. Then I take my jumper off carefully, still feeling like I’ve been run over, and settle down. I still feel so tired, maybe it’s all the painkillers.

Max comes back with coffee and sits on the sofa with me.

“Is your foot warm enough?” he asks. I frown. “I know it’s an odd question, but I always look at people with their toes sticking out of a cast and think they must get really cold.”

“It’s fine thank you.” I laugh. “What are we having for lunch?”

“Burgers. Is that okay?”

“Lovely.” He settles down with me to watch the film.

“Connie is coming later. I told her not to miss her painting class,” he says absently after a few minutes.

“Who are the flowers from?”

Pointing to them in turn he says, “Connie, your mum and…” There is a light tap on the door and he jumps up to open it. Our burgers are here. I might be stuck at home, but I sure do live in the right place.

We tuck in and watch my film. Then Max clears the plates away and comes back, looking more fidgety.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I want to give you this and I know you’re not going to want to take it.” He pulls my phone out of his pocket.

I pull back from the phone slightly, not wanting to be too near it. “Not yet,” I say quietly.

“Here's the problem. You need to be in communication with everyone, you might need one of us urgently and we need to check you are okay. You’re just going to have to suck it up. It’s for your own good.” He drops it into my lap. “It’s on too.”

“Max. I don’t want to hear anything he has to say, can you at least delete the messages?”

“There weren’t any. Apart from, you know, a couple that night.”

I draw in a deep breath and desperately hope that I don’t look as gutted as I feel. I walked out on him almost two weeks ago, with no explanation whatsoever, and he hasn’t even texted me. He is such a selfish, fucking bastard. If I hadn’t seen what he did, I could be living with him now, setting myself up for an even bigger fall.

“None?” I can’t help myself.

“No, but…”

“What?”

“…You should call him, you know.” He

sounds afraid of the repercussions.

“No fucking way! He doesn’t even know why I left and he still doesn’t give a shit.” I rant. “He only cares about himself.”

“Liv, that makes no sense. He flew five thousand miles just to see you and then when he fell in love…” I start to interrupt, but Max silences me. “When you both fell in love, he happily and without hesitation let go of his friends, family and home to be with you.” He sighs. “You certainly can’t say he only thinks about himself.”

“But he cheated!” How can Max think like that?

“Did he?” Max responds. “Did you actually see that happen?”

I recoil. Where is this all coming from? I thought he supported me. Why would he be saying these things? Then it dawns on me. He must have spoken to Danny.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says.

“Have you spoken to him?”

Max stands up and walks towards the door, turning before he opens it. “Just hear him out, Liv,” he says and is gone.

I’m left, mouth open, staring at the back of the door. I can’t believe this. I actually feel betrayed by Max, something I thought was impossible. I drop my head back on the sofa and stare at the ceiling. A tear rolls down my cheek.

I wake with a start. I’d drifted off to sleep, bloody drugs. The phone is ringing and for a second I can’t get my head together. I start to get up, sending a jolt through my ankle in the process. It’s the first time I’ve accidentally tried to move it in such a way that it really hurts, and for a second I think I’m going to throw up. I breathe deeply to clear the queasiness and ouch! My ribs protest. I’m such a mess. The phone continues to ring. I’m more awake now and my knee-jerk attempt to answer it seems ridiculous in the light of day. I don’t need/want to speak to whoever it is and I’m trying to kill myself to get it.

It rings off. We have a code in my family for times like these, let it ring once and hang up, then ring again. So if it was Mum, or Grace or Connie, I would know. It could have been anyone, it could have been…Oh God, my heart bangs hard in my chest. It could have been him! Although, if he was too selfish to call me when I left him, why would he bother now? Even so, I’m thankful I turned off the answer machine a few days ago. I sit up and get myself together. I need the loo, this should be interesting. Having shuffled around until the footstool isn’t in my way and I have my crutches, I wiggle to the edge of my seat and stand up. It’s harder than you would think not being able to put my foot on the floor at all, especially as it’s so heavy. I’m just in the bathroom when I hear Connie calling me.

“Liv? Where are you? What’s happened?” She sounds worried.

For God’s sake! “I’m on the loo!” I yell back, it’s not an international emergency.

“Do you need some help?” she says from the other side of the door, which I’m thankful now that I closed.

“Er, no. I think I’ve got it,” I say.

When I emerge, she is still hovering. “Come and sit down,” she fusses.

“Alright, I can manage.”

Although, having said that, as I sit down, I pass the point of no return and the sofa is low, so I’m left with the choice between either banging my foot down or banging the rest of me down. It hurts.

“Careful!” admonishes Connie as I suck in air between my teeth.

“Thanks,” I say sarcastically. “I forgot.”

“Oh, we are in a sour mood today, aren’t we?” Connie takes none of my nonsense.

I sigh. “Sorry, I’m just so frustrated.”

“And you’ve had a disagreement with Max.”

“Actually, we are yet to have the disagreement, he ran away.” I sneer. “But it’s coming.”

“Come on, he’s looking after you.”

“I think he’s talked to Danny and now I can’t trust him.”

“What’s the big problem if he has?”

“Well, now I feel like he isn’t completely on my side. He hasn’t tried to defend him, or pass on any messages, but he has heard him out, so now I feel like he has fallen for some kind of lie.” I huff.

“So you think Max would believe Danny and then turn on you?”

I shrug, knowing I’m being trapped.

“That’s all you think of Max?”

“No, I just…”

“You’re just wallowing in self-pity.”

I stare at her, daring her to continue, but she isn’t intimidated.

“Max loves you dearly and has looked out for you since the day you became friends. You should trust his judgement and advice. He would never put you in the path of harm.”

“But he thinks I should hear Danny out.” I scoff. “Not, mind you, that he’s beating down my door with an explanation. But even if he was, why would I listen to lies?”

“What if they’re not lies?” she says and holds my stare.

“He’s got to you too hasn’t he?” I say slowly. I’m staggered that I’ve lost everyone to whatever lie he is spinning.

“No one ‘gets’ to me,” she argues. “But you're not seeing reason right now and I’m just asking you to remember who is and will always be on your side.” Pausing, she strokes my hair. “If Max thinks you should talk to him then maybe you should.”

I shake my head. “I’m going to go and lie down,” I say absently. I start to shuffle my way up to my feet and Connie stands to help me. “I can manage,” I snap.

“Okay.” She holds her hands up and steps back so that I can pass. “I’ll check on you later then,” she says as I go into the bedroom. I feel really guilty as I sink into my freshly made bed and turn on my new TV, all courtesy of Max. There’s another small silver remote on the bedside table and a satellite remote like the one in the living room, which controls the same box, via a little sensor thing sitting beneath the TV. He has really thought of everything to make me comfortable…I’m being a real bitch. I just don’t know which way to turn right now and I wish I had one person I could talk to about it, that wasn’t a Danny sympathiser.

Hopefully, they’ll drop it eventually, when they see I’m not budging. I try to find a comfortable position and close my eyes. Drifting, I start to wonder what Danny could have said to Max that would make him switch like that. I suppose I can’t really blame Max, I couldn’t believe that Danny could treat me like this either. Maybe believing the lie was easier than accepting the disappointing truth.

“Liv.” I stir and feel Max standing beside me. “Liv, you need to take your tablets,” he says gently.

I ignore him and keep my eyes closed.

“Liv, come on. You can hate me, but you need to take these. Remember what the doctor said about not letting the pain get ahead of you.”

Reluctantly, I open my eyes and sigh. I then have to suffer the indignity of Max watching me trying to sit up, although giving him his due, he just lets me get on with it. He silently holds out the tablets, which I sulkily take and swig back with the glass of water he hands me.

It’s not Max’s fault and deep down I can’t stand pushing him away, but I can’t stop myself. I know he’s talked to Danny and while I need him desperately right now, I’m hurt too.

“I bought you a coffee.’ he says bluntly. “And you left these on the coffee table.” He puts my mobile and the home phone on my bedside table. I know I left them there, it was deliberate. The home phone has rung about six times while I’ve been in here and I’ve gladly ignored it. God knows who keeps phoning, but there is no one ring code, so I’m not picking up. I doubt he would suddenly start ringing now, but I’m not taking the chance. I’ll continue to ignore it, except it will annoy me more now that it’s right next to me.

“Thanks,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

“You’re welcome.” He mirrors. Then he abruptly leaves. I heave a sigh of relief. I need to sort this out, I can’t fall out with Max over anyone, least of all a weasel like Danny.

I prop myself up on some pillows and try to get comfy. The phone rings again, so I diligently ignore it while flicking through channels, then, to my horror, the answer phone kicks in…the fucker has put it on! I’m frozen to the spot as the beep sounds. To make matters worse, my stupid, fucking phone plays the audio from the handset as well as the base unit, when they are not connected, so I can’t even get away from it. It’s right beside me and in the living room on loud speaker.

“Liv?” Danny’s voice rings through the flat. “Oh thank God, I thought I was going to get a brick wall forever!” There is a long pause. “Please call me, or at least check your emails…Please Liv. I love you.” He sighs and then it cuts off.

I’m still frozen as I digest the sound of his voice, the pain and urgency in his tone. I snap myself out of almost feeling sorry for him. I don’t care if he says he loves me, he’s blown it, it’s finished.

I snatch my mobile unthinking, to call Max and give him a piece of my mind and before I realise what I’m doing, I’m looking at the screen. Shit! I didn’t want my phone back. Twelve missed calls from Danny, all today. Thank goodness for silent mode. I toss it on the bed beside me in disgust. What now? I feel like the phones are both my enemies now too. Trapped and frustrated, I start to cry. I wallow in it for as long as I can stand and then feel really angry with myself. Look at the state I’m in.

The phone rings again. “Liv, please check your emails there is too much to say on a machine and if you won’t talk to me…Please, read them. I love you.” He pleads once again. He hangs on the line for a moment more before hanging up.

I shudder. This is such a head fuck. I battle with the surge of emotion that comes from hearing his voice and the sickening feeling when I think about what he has done. I can’t check my messages, not just because nothing he says could ever make it alright. But also because I can’t stand the fact that he thinks he has said something in those messages that would make me change my mind. He knows how I react to cheating. Who does he think he is? Oh this is too much, why right now? I just can’t cope. I pull the covers over my head. It’s right that I’m angry, but I can’t get over being angry with him. It’s another sad step on the road to putting him out of my life for good. I’ll stick it out a bit longer and if he won’t stop calling, I’ll get my number changed.