The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,82

in a car crash. ‘Wow, you really don’t like him, do you? I don’t understand what your problem is. He’s a good bloke.’

Jamie was speechless.

‘Come on,’ Paul said, ‘let’s go in.’

It felt colder in the flat than it did outside. Jamie cranked up the heating. He could feel goosepimples beneath the sleeves of his shirt, the hairs on his arms bristling.

‘Do you want a cup of–’ He changed his mind halfway through the sentence. ‘Do you want a beer?’

‘I’d love one.’

He took a couple of tins of lager out of the fridge and tossed one to Paul. Jamie cracked the ringpull and took a slow, greedy sip. God, he had needed that, although he was still cold and shaky. Maybe he should open that bottle of whiskey. Firewater – that’s what he needed. He could almost taste it, could feel it scorching his throat, burning his chest, seeping into his bloodstream and washing away the pain. He licked his lips.

‘You were so lucky finding this place,’ said Paul, interrupting Jamie’s train of thought. ‘I think that every time I come round.’

‘You haven’t been round here for quite some time.’

‘I know. But I expect it seems longer to you than it does to me. The weeks I was in a coma, while you were living your lives, passed like that.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘From the moment of the accident to the moment I woke up. My body was ageing but I lost a chunk of my life. Hey, I’m not explaining myself very well, am I?’

‘No, I do understand what you mean. But did it really pass in a flash? You told Kirsty you had bad dreams.’

Paul stared into his beer; Jamie thought he saw him shudder. ‘Yeah, but I only remembered that afterwards. It wasn’t as if I was aware of being in a coma.’

‘You didn’t find yourself floating close to the ceiling, looking down at your body?’

Paul laughed quietly. ‘No, and I didn’t find myself in any long tunnels either, floating towards a bright white light.’

‘No voices calling you back? Paul, Paul, come back – your time is not up.’

‘Afraid not.’

Jamie had pulled up a chair and was sitting close to Paul. He studied him closely. He looked so much better. Healthier than ever before, in fact. Almost glowing.

‘So you feel better now?’

‘God yes. I feel great. Fantastic.’ He rubbed his palms together vigorously. ‘I feel so full of energy, you know? I wake up in the morning and instead of groaning and pulling the quilt up over my head, I get up immediately. And you’ll never guess what I do then. I go out for a run.’

Jamie almost choked on his beer. ‘You? Running?’

‘I know. It doesn’t seem natural, does it? But I was such a slob before. My body was starting to atrophy. So was my brain. All I thought about was sex and food and drink and having a laugh. Obviously, those things are still important’ – he laughed – ‘but – I don’t know – I just feel that there’s got to be more. Maybe this happened to me for a reason. Like I was given a message.’

‘Oh shit– you’ve gone and discovered God.’

They cracked up. Paul leant forward, rocking with laughter. Jamie laughed so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks. It felt so good to laugh, to laugh so hard that your stomach hurt and your ribs ached. Like a release of pressure, a slap to the system. They laughed and laughed.

Eventually, Paul recovered enough to say, ‘No, not God. But, please. Let me be serious for a minute.’

They quietened. Jamie drained the remains of his beer.

‘I’ve decided to go away,’ Paul said. ‘I’m going travelling.’

Jamie absorbed this.

‘I’m going to start by catching a ferry across to France, then make my way from there. Head south to Spain, maybe spend some time down there, find some work, whatever. Then I’m going to go east through Europe into Asia. India, Thailand, China, Japan. Wherever the wind carries me, basically. I’ll work out my route as I go.’ He leaned forward, so his face was just a few inches away from Jamie’s. ‘I don’t want to spend the rest of my life stuck here, in this city. There’s so much to see out there. I want to fly. I want to gather stories. When I die and the whole of my life flashes before my eyes, I want the flashes to contain beauty and excitement; gold temples; blue seas; women with black hair and