Page 105 of Someone Else's Shoes
‘What?’ Liz Frobisher’s voice is disbelieving.
‘You heard.’
Nisha winces as a weight lands on the bed on top of her. The base of the bed is now less than an inch from her nose. She hears Darren – because it must be Darren – pick up the remote control and switch on the hotel television. Some kind of football match commentary blares into the room.
‘So you’re just going to stay here? And leave me to eat by myself?’
‘You can do what you want. Your idea to come here, you sort yourself out.’
‘My sister was right about you.’
‘Oh, your sister. Great. Let’s bring her into it.’
Something is tickling Nisha’s nose. Perhaps some dust particle dislodged by the movement of Darren’s bulk. She brings her hand up to her nose and squeezes it tight. She is going to sneeze. Oh, God. She can’t stop it. Nisha thinks she may explode. It’s unstoppable …
At the exact moment she lets out a loud sneeze, the room suddenly erupts in sound.
‘Goal!A tremendous goal there from Kane. The keeper really didn’t stand a chance!’ blares the television commentator, and the noise begins to subside. Nisha’s eyes are watering. She thinks she may scream. Above her Darren shifts his weight, and she hears the sound of the hotel phone being lifted from the bedside table.
‘You’re really just going to stay here.’
‘Yeah,’ says Darren. ‘It’s too cold out. Let’s just eat something.’
‘I want to go out. We never go out anywhere nice.’
‘We went out last Saturday.’
‘Yes, but that was with your brother.’
Nisha tries to separate herself from her body, the way she has heard people talk about. She focuses on her breathing, then realizes that when she breathes deeply she is more likely to be inhaling the detritus under this bed. She screws her eyes shut and clamps a hand over her mouth.
There are footsteps, then nothing but the televised crowd noise of the football.
Nisha opens her eyes and hears muffled sobbing coming from the easy chair in the corner of the room. The bed above her shifts slightly and she sees Darren’s feet land onthe carpeted floor beside her head. There is a hole in his right sock, which reveals a coin of pale heel.
‘Are you crying?’
‘Go away.’
A long silence. More muffled sobbing.
‘I just wanted this to be my special day. I won a prize, Darren! I was all excited and now you’ve ruined everything.’
A sigh.
‘Nothing’s ruined. C’mon. Come here. I’m just hungry.’
Suddenly her phone flashes up a message.
Are you out?
No!she types back.
Are they going out?
I don’t know. I am literally going to die under this bed. HELP
There are three pulsing dots, then silence. She imagines Jasmine and Sam downstairs, trying to work out what to do. Jasmine will think of something. She has to.
