To Splinter A Soul

Chapter 5- Gravy

Sunday 1st November 1992

9:36am

Becca woke in a panic and for a moment she had no idea where on earth she was. The overwhelming scent of pine disinfectant told her she was in the bathroom, which was fortuitous as she suddenly felt the urge to vomit. She clambered up, put her head inside the toilet and expelled what the contents of her stomach, leaving her retching for several minutes.

"Becca, are you in there?"

Someone tried to push the door open, but her feet were in the way.

"Becca!"

"One minute."

Becca tentatively stood up, using the sink pedestal for support. She caught sight of herself in the mirrored bathroom cabinet and groaned. Her make-up had migrated its way down her face and her eyes looked pitifully red. She splashed some cold water on her face and felt worse. Nothing was going to make her feel any better, so she turned and opened the door.

"It lives," Lauren said. "Come on, I'll make you some coffee and you can tell me what the bloody hell happened to you."

Becca dutifully followed Lauren down the stairs and into the bright, warm kitchen.

"Here, sit down." Lauren pulled out a pine stool from under the breakfast bar. Becca struggled to hoist herself up onto the stool.

Lauren set about fixing the coffee. "Toast, cereal, bacon sandwich?"

"Urgh, no thank you." She could almost imagine the smell the bacon fat rendering under a hot grill, and the thought of it made her stomach turn over.

"Here." Lauren placed the steaming mug on the counter and took a seat next to Becca. "So?" she asked pointedly.

"So, what?"

"What happened to you last night? You were completely out of it. It took all three of the lads to carry you to the van and put you to bed."

Becca groaned. "Ben put me to bed?"

"Uh huh!"

Becca went over the events of the previous night. The hair-raising journey, the dancing, the ...

"I don't remember anything." She stared at the cup; the swirling coffee gradually slowed to a stop.

"What do you mean, you don't remember anything?"

"Exactly that. I remember dancing and then... nothing."

"Bloody hell. What on earth did you take?"

Becca sat up straight, horrified. "Nothing, I swear. I don't drink and I certainly don't do drugs. Never had, never will." She took a sip of the scalding coffee and grimaced at its hot bitterness.

Lauren raised her eyebrows.

"I swear, Lauren, I didn't take anything. I'm not against anyone else doing so, but it's just not my thing."

"Well, maybe someone slipped you something. Ben said you told him you were going for a drink. It must have happened then, because the next thing we know, some guy comes up and tells us you've collapsed outside and need to be taken home."

"What guy?"

"No idea! Some guy in a leather jacket."

Her hand trembled as she tried to lift the cup. "A bouncer?"

"Could have been, but he was the oddest-looking bouncer I've ever seen. Quite sexy too, if you like that circa 1970's Sex pistols-look."

She looked at Lauren, blankly.