ANGELS AND GHOSTS
CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Assassin and The Compulsive Obsessive

Hello, hello, can you help me …

Mia rolled over and gazed at the digital clock; 4.16am.

She’d had maybe five hours sleep before she’d been disturbed, and it wasn’t snapping awake disturbed, it was flutter-your-eyes-open slowly and stare at the ceiling disturbed. Depressingly, Mia knew that it was getting to the point where she had to tell someone about it.

Just about every night since she’d been out of the coma, the voice had called to her, but ever since she’d returned to the unit, the message seemed more desperate, or more urgent. If she told Dr Black, he would say, Maybe we should do a few more tests.

She could see a psychologist, but tell them what? Hi, I keep hearing this voice in my dreams … huh, do I know what it means? No, isn’t that your job?

Talking about it to one of the girls from the gym wasn’t on, because there was already enough distance between them, and she didn’t want to present herself as a total nut-bag. Her sixty and seventy-year-old friends from the rehab centre would listen to her, although their reaction would most likely be, Ohhh, that’s nice dear.

There was one person though, Feel free to contact me at any time …

Just after ten o’clock that morning, Mia stared at her cell phone, running it through her mind. Rachael Terina wasn’t her friend, she was simply the person who had saved her life, so off-loading her concerns on to the lifesaver might be acceptable. She needed to do something, because it was becoming ever more apparent that unless she found out what it was all about, the voice had no intention of letting her go.

Nervous, anxious, Mia pressed call.

Ten minutes later, Rachael hung up and cursed, “Fuck.”

An unexpected phone call; a woman with a brain injury stating that she needed to speak to her. She had considered saying, I’m really busy at the moment, so how about I contact you when I’m free … but no, her conscience was up and about, so she reluctantly agreed, Fuck me …

*

The next day, Mia shuffled around, wanting the unit to be spotless, so she wiped benches, neatened the magazines on the coffee table and fluffed up the couch cushions. When everything was to her satisfaction, she went to the deli and purchased a selection of cheeses, and purchased bottles of red and white wine.

She hadn’t touched alcohol since she’d been released, because Dr Black’s words were still ringing in her mind, Steering clear of alcohol at the moment is preferable, although if you wish to indulge occasionally, moderation is the key.

With the unit spotless and the shopping dealt with, Mia waited, and waiting was hard, waiting had Mia regretting that she’d rung her. The woman had saved her life, so maybe she should be the last person that Mia burdened with this, although quite simply, she didn’t have too many options.

Mia saw the car pull up in front of the unit, and she watched nervously as the woman got out, and her brow didn’t pound, it kind of shimmied, or sloshed, which made Mia even more nervous. In pre-accident times, Mia was never nervous when she saw cars pull up in front of her unit, especially when she knew who the person was and why they had come; although the post-accident Mia was trembling due to the building anxiety she was experiencing. Segments of the previous days brief conversation rattled through her mind; Can you come around, I need to speak to you … If she was pre-accident Mia, she would have said, Hey, you wanta come around and have a drink? Although after July nineteen, she had become post-accident Mia, and cars pulling up outside her unit did make her nervous. Soberly, Mia understood that she would never be pre-accident Mia ever again, because she now had a plastic hip and plastic knee, and the brain that she used to be in control of, now controlled her.

As she saw the girl walking towards the entrance, Mia winced, drew in a breath, then opened the door, “Hi, it’s nice to see you, and I appreciate you coming.”

“No problem.”

“Please, come and sit.”

Rachael sat then watched as Mia awkwardly lowered herself onto the couch opposite. Rachael didn’t have any plans for the day, although she hoped that this commitment would be short and sweet, just like the first time she met her. The first time they had met at the café probably pushed out to roughly fifteen minutes, and Rachael was prepared to waste another fifteen minutes with this unfortunate chick, or hopefully less. Ten minutes or less would be great, or less than five minutes would be ideal.

Shyly, Mia said, “Help yourself to a snack.”

“Thank-you.” Rachael said as she picked up a round salted cracker and a cube of cheese, and she noticed that the platter seemed flawlessly presented. The cubes of cheese were arranged into neat circles, the cheese slices seemed to have been laid upon each other with the identical distance spaced between them, while the crackers were all salted side up, placed into stacks of three, and from her casual observation, the crackers all seemed to have their ridges aligned.

“How are you?” Rachael asked.

“Not bad, getting myself together.”

Rachael gazed around the unit, “Nice place.”

“Yes, I like it.”

“You renting?”

“Ummm, I’m an only child, so when my parents died, well yeah, I bought it.”

Mia was dressed in faded jeans, and she rubbed her hands over her thighs. “Would you like a drink? I have red or white wine.”

“I’m not really a wine drinker; coffee’s fine.”

While Mia prepared the drinks, Rachael turned her gaze to the platter, intrigued. On closer inspection, she noted that all the ridges on the crackers were perfectly aligned, almost as if somebody had placed them that way purposely. The inner edge of the cubed cheese all touched their neighbouring cubes in the circles, and the cheese slices may have been deliberately laid upon one another to have the same distance between them.

Mia placed a cup in front of Rachael, then sat. She wanted to look at her when she spoke to her, although it felt like her cheeks were burning, so she kept her focus on the coffee table as she asked, “I forgot to ask when I met you; what do you do?”

Not too many questions made Rachael baulk, although questions about what she did for a job, did. Shit … “I kinda do information collection for an investigation group.” Rachael replied.

“Ohhh, sounds interesting.”

“No, boring, but it pays the bills.”

Mia didn’t really know much about her, and conversation was going to be hard to sustain, so crunch time. She rubbed her hands over her thighs then said hesitantly, “Ummm, when I met you, I told you about the voice I’ve been hearing, and …”

Rachael waited, although it seemed like Mia was zoning out, so she asked, “And what?”

“Ohhh, sorry; ummm, they’re still happening, I mean every night I hear the voice.”

Rachael bowed her face. Fuck me … then shook her hair back as she asked, “You recognise the voice?”

“No, it’s a girl’s voice, youngish, but I don’t recognise it.”

“What does it say?”

Mia rubbed her hands on her thighs and replied timidly, “It says, Hello, hello, can you help me.”

“Is that all, never anything else?”

“No, that’s it, every time, every night.”

Rachael watched as Mia leant forward and tapped a cracker so that it sat squarely over the one underneath it, then she said, “Maybe you should see someone, you know, a counsellor or a shrink or something and discuss it with them.”

With her hands rubbing on her thighs, Mia said timidly, “What would I say? I keep having this dream about someone calling out to me.”

“There could be a sub-conscious element to the dream, and maybe a professional could help you sort it out.”

“My, my neurologist doesn’t properly understand what’s wrong with me at the moment, so I couldn’t possibly face anyone else with this.”

Yeah, except me … Rachael brooded. Her conscience had been pricked though. The memory was in her mind, refusing to be banished, so maybe she had to set it free. After shovelling Mia into her car and driving away, she had heard/identified/or been conscious of a single word.

“Maybe I should tell you something …” Rachael began, then she paused, running it through her mind. Mia had been hit by a car, and the result was that she was now Brain-Injury-Woman, and the less Rachael had to do with her, the better; although guilt still hung heavily, and Rachael had to come clean.

“Tell me what?” Mia asked timidly.

“On the night, that night, after I put you in the car, I was driving away, and I dunno, I heard, or I thought I heard someone say, Hello.”

Mia rubbed her hands over her thighs, “Hello?”

“I thought it was you, but I looked back, and well, I realised that you weren’t capable of saying anything.”

Rachael got a cracker and a cube of cheese, then she noticed Mia straightening the next cracker, and tapping a cube of cheese into place.

“It wasn’t me?”

“Ummm, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you, yeah.”

“And there was no-one else there?”

“Well, we were in my car, just you and me.”

Mia seemed deep in concentration, then she lifted her gaze and asked hesitantly, “Do you, I mean would you remember where the accident happened?”

Shit, fuck … “I’d have a rough idea, yeah.”

“Could you, I mean would you be able to take me out there and show me where it happened?”

Mia noted Rachael’s apprehension, so she said, “I would pay you for your time, however much you want.”

Confused, guilty, cluster-fucked, Rachael nodded, “Yeah, I can take you out there.”

*

The next morning, Rachael sipped her coffee, brooding.

When she was working, she devoted all her energies to the task; mind focussed, all faculties switched on to ensure that everything went without a hitch. When she wasn’t working, she just liked to dick around, and do stuff, dicky stuff, non-brain involving stuff.

And now this; Can you take me out there?

“Fuck.”

Rachael remembered the confused conversation from yesterday afternoon; Really, you wanta see the spot where you got hit?

-No, it’s more about the voice … I think the voice wants me to see where it happened.

Sipping, brooding, Rachael huffed, “Yeah Terina, enjoy your day!”

Forty-odd minutes with Mia Coombes the previous afternoon had been excruciating; constant references to, The voice, the voice … Mia Coombes nervous and twitchy, constantly rubbing her hands over her thighs, then straightening crackers and tapping cubes of cheese back into their circles.

“Compulsive obsessive.” Rachael muttered.

Rachael imagined Marco asking her, What ya doing today Teriny? … Me? Well I’m just driving this compulsive obsessive, brain injury chick out to the place where she got hit by a car, because this voice is calling to her … and ohhh, all the ridges of her crackers are perfectly aligned! She would prefer just lazing around and watching a few of her favourite episodes of Games Of Thrones, because she liked watching people fucking or getting killed, but Jesus, Holy Cluster-Fuck …

So, so this is the spot I got hit?

-Round-about, yeah … and you know, can you stop rubbing your thighs … and what the fucks the cracker thing about?

*

Mia Coombes showered and then looked at her diary.

No entry this morning, nothing she wanted to detail in her diary. She’d probably had eight hours sleep, although it was interrupted; constantly.

Hello, hello, can you help me …

Mia knew that whether she was pre-accident Mia or post-accident Mia, she was the kind of person who would help someone in need, especially someone who was constantly calling out to her, although thoughts lingered; Who are you? … Help you in what way?

And the big thought, the big question, the question that was rattling her rationality; Why me … what do you want from me …

Mia wasn’t certain, but she suspected that she’d heard the voice every night since she’d come out of the coma; sometimes the whispered, frightened request waking her, sometimes not. Last night it did wake her, four or five times. Again, she wasn’t certain, but if she was pressed to give an opinion, she would suggest that the voice had never floated into her mind on multiple occasions on any night, then last night, at least four times, maybe even five.

Hello, hello, can you help me …

The confusing thoughts rattling around in her mind made Mia decidedly unsettled. On the very day she arranged to be taken out to the site of the accident, the voice disturbed her night’s sleep on numerous occasions, the voice more desperate, although the voice also tinged with a hint of hope.

And something else as well. An addition, an added word in the final dream last night.

Hello, hello, can you help me … please …

Rachael pulled up outside the unit and bowed her head, whispering to herself, “Okay, just get this done and then tell this Nut-bag to leave you alone.”

Rachael saw the woman close her front door and begin moving towards her, then the woman stopped, lowered her face and began rubbing her right hand up and down her thigh.

“Jesus!” Rachael huffed.

The woman turned back to the door, lowered her face again, and she seemed to shiver, then she turned and began walking towards the car, although she stopped again, her face turning to the door. She took two paces towards the door, then stopped, shaking her head.

“What the fuck?” Rachael moaned, then she wound her window down and called out, “Hi Mia, get in.”

Mia looked over at her, a shiver rattling through her body, then she walked to the front door and gripped the doorknob. Mia felt like an idiot; it was locked, she had locked it, so checking that it was locked was stupid. She spluttered, feeling so fragile as she whispered to herself, “It’s, it’s locked … please don’t do this …” She gripped and turned; door locked. “Okay, go, go now.”

“Mia …”

Mia heard her and closed her eyes, her grip tightening on the knob as she whimpered, “It’s locked, remember that.” She shook her head and hobbled over to the car, and Rachael pushed the door open for her.

“Hi, you forget something?” Rachael asked.

“Ummm, I’ve just had a funny morning,” Mia replied as she sat and did up the seat belt, “How are you?”

“Yeah, okay.”

As she took off, Rachael noticed Mia touching the seat belt buckle; once, twice, three times … then her hands rubbing over her thighs.

Rachael thought to herself, Compulsive obsessive freaking Nutbag! Although looking for an escape route, she asked, “You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, yes, and I really appreciate you helping me.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Rachael replied. “I was just thinking though, if I had an accident, I don’t think I’d want to see the scene of the accident ever again.”

Touching the buckle, hands on thighs, then the buckle, thighs, buckle, thighs …

“Yes, I understand, but this is more about …” Mia trailed off, thinking about the voice.

Enough time had passed for Rachael to prompt her, “More about what?”

Mia bowed her face, running it through her mind. One person knew about the voice in her dreams, and even though she didn’t want that person to think she was crazy, seeing as how the person was willing to help her, maybe she needed to be totally honest with her.

“Last night, last night for the first time, I heard the voice more than once.” Mia said quietly.

Meant Jack-shit to Rachael, so she asked, “What are you saying?”

“Ummm, ever since I came out of the coma, I’m pretty sure that I’ve heard the voice every night, then last night, for the first time, I heard it multiple times, I mean I heard it at least four times, maybe even five.”

Rachael turned onto Brocksley Road then gazed at her. “Maybe that’s your sub-conscious yeah, I mean your mind might be a little jumpy because you’re coming out here today.”

“Yes, that’s possible.”

“So what happens, does it wake you up?”

“Ummm, sometimes, not every time, although last night, yes, it woke me up every time.”

It appeared that the woman was comfortable talking about it, so Rachael asked, “Okay, I remember you saying that it was a young girl’s voice, do you see the girl in your dreams?”

“No, no I don’t.”

“Do you see anything, or is it just a voice?” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Well the image in the dream is that forest.”

“You’re positive?”

“I know the area very well because I used to run there every week, so yes, I am positive.”

“So what happens in the dream, what happens in the forest?”

“Hmmm, I don’t think anything happens, I mean the image of the forest just kinda lingers in my mind after I hear the voice.”

Rachael had already had a gutful of voices, and as they had an hour trip in front of them, she wanted to change the subject, “Were you seeing anybody before the accident?”

“No, I was interested in this one guy from work, but then …”

Rachael admonished herself, then said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“That’s okay,” Mia replied.

Wanting to inject a positive, Rachael said, “Once you’re fully recovered, I’m sure guys will be flocking around you, because you’re quite attractive.”

“Thank-you,” Mia replied, “What about you; do you have a boyfriend?”

“Arrhh, at this stage of my life, I prefer being single.”

“How long have you been single?”

Rachael frowned; Since I was nineteen … then she said, “I’ve only really had two relationships, one ended badly about eight and a half years ago, and the other one ended when I didn’t want it to; so since then, I just you know, fuck around a bit.”

“What happened with the relationships?”

“Arrhh, no, I don’t like talking about it.”

“Ohhh, sorry.”

Sex was one of Rachael’s favourite subjects though, and talking about it might help the remaining fifty-five-minute journey go quicker. “Being single is cool though, I mean whenever I’m feeling frisky, I hit the clubs and pick up a stud, fuck all night, then walk away the next morning.”

Mia blushed, then asked, “Gosh, and how often does that happen?”

“Well, I’m either in my sexual prime or else I’m approaching my sexual prime, so I’m always on the look-out,” Rachael said, then she added, “I was keen on that cop who was looking after your …” then she stopped suddenly … Whoops.

Rachael admonished herself, because to her, there were no degrees of anonymity. She had assured the six foot two, hair-gelled policeman that their tryst would be a secret, and that was the way it would be. She would never tell anyone except Marco about her fling with the policeman, except for maybe Sophie Niles, because she was dying to tell Sophie about it; and that was okay, because Sophie’s line of work was all about secrecy and discretion.

Mia gazed at her and asked quietly, “The cop who was what?”

Rachael regathered, then casually stated, “Yeah, on my wish list, I wanted to hump a cop before I turned thirty, and yeah, I’m humping one now.”

Mia lowered her gaze and watched her hands rubbing over her thighs, trying to instruct herself that three more rubs would be sufficient; then she said quietly, “You seem really, ummm …”

“Really what?”

“Well, really open in regard to sexual matters.”

“Yeah, well fucking and orgasms make the world go round.”

Mia laughed into her hand.

Rachael brightened at the sound of the embarrassed laugh, and she asked, “How long have you been out of hospital?”

“About three weeks now.”

“So you were in hospital for almost six months?”

“I was in hospital for three and a half months, then I spent another five weeks at a rehab centre.”

“Gee, you must be dying for a fuck.”

Mia laughed again, although she assumed that the statement required an answer. “Ummm, I was a bit fragile for a while, so that kind of thing wasn’t really on my mind.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Rachael acknowledged, then she said, “If you do get horny though, The Hub on Ainsworth and Chester is the place to go, I mean I always pick up there.”

Mia gazed at her, slightly embarrassed by the conversation, although she realised that she felt buoyant because she was having a conversation. “I think I went there once with my work friends.”

“Okay, what did you use to do?”

“I was a personal trainer at Roaring Fitness.”

“Ohhh, on King Street?”

“Yes; you know it?”

“I’ve lived in Brocksley for eight years, so I know every inch of it.”

They crossed into Middleton, and Rachael felt a little more comfortable now, comfortable enough to subtly push her new acquaintance. “So the guy you were interested in worked at the gym?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you should let him know that you’re out of hospital, and you’re raring to go.”

Mia bowed her face and mumbled, “He’s knows I’m out.”

Rachael recognised the dejection in her answer, and she appreciated the woman’s current fragile state of mind, but for Rachael, when things were turning to shit, two things worked for her; sex or illicit substances. If this woman needed a push, Rachael was prepared to try her hand at being a quasi-counsellor. “Mia, if you keep having this dream and it’s affecting you, maybe you need to turn your energies towards more positive things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe you should ring up this guy and say, Hey, I feel good; and then if he does come over, you know, go for it.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but I think Matt is, is … you know, scared of me now,” Mia replied, “And I don’t blame him, because I’m not the same person that I used to be.”

“Alright, well fuck him, but change the direction of your life, start doing stuff that will get your mind off this dream.”

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