Black Sheep

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I awoke with a start, the sound of car engine and doors being slammed shut shaking me out of sleep. An intense pain was shooting through my head and seemingly down my back. I tried to focus but it seemed like I had tunnel vision, the periphery of my eyesight was dark and blurred. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them a few times, but it didn't seem to do a great deal of good, my vision was still blurred.

I heard the door open and the kids running up the hallway to the living room door. I tried to sit up straighter but I felt totally drained of energy.

"Daddy, daddy, look what we got!" shouted Molly, her voice cutting through me and making the pain in my head worse. I winced in pain.

With a huge effort of will I managed to sit up straighter and look at Molly. The look on her face as she looked back at me told the whole story. I must have looked like shit.

"What have you got sweetheart?" I croaked my voice dry and rasping. A coughed a little to clear my throat.

She held up a toy she'd got with her Happy Meal. Something from a new kids film that I didn't recognise.

"Look, its wings flap!" she shouted, her voice grating in my head again. She demonstrated the flapping wings.

"Wow" I said, "That's great".

By this time Josh was stood next to Molly, a slight look of concern on his face.

"Are you alright Dad?"

"Yes, I'd just dozed off and woke up when you got in".

He didn't seem entirely satisfied with the answer. He turned and walked out of the living room, through the kitchen and into the back garden. Molly followed him, shouting for him to wait for her. Sarah stood in the doorway to the living room, as impassive as she was before she'd gone out.

"So you've not had a shower then?" she asked, un-necessarily.

"No, I dozed off".

She looked at the half empty can of beer on the floor next to the chair, rolled her eyes, sighed, and walked into the kitchen.

I tried to get up and follow her, but as I tried to get out of the chair the pain in my head shot down my back again and my head span wildly. I flopped back into the chair, feeling totally exhausted. What was wrong with me? My limbs felt like lead, almost immobile. My head throbbed. A dull ache permeated my entire body. It felt like I had flu. Was that it? Was that why I was experiencing these weird happenings? I remember having flu in the past, proper flu, not just a heavy cold that many people call flu. I remember the hallucinations and blacking out on occasions. That must be it. I must have flu. Probably the only person to get flu during a heat wave, but that must be it. Maybe a cold shower and an early night is the answer.

I pushed myself up from the chair and groaned in pain. I had never felt so drained of energy. If I did have flu, and by now I'd convinced myself I had, being out in the sun all day, eating next to nothing and drinking beer won't have helped. No wonder I was feeling so bad.

I walked to the kitchen door and leaned against the door jamb for support. The sound of the boiling kettle sent needles of pain through my head. Sarah was stood at the worktop, watching the steam rise from the kettle. She didn't turn to look at me.

"I'm going to have a shower and an early night" I croaked, my throat still dry.

"Okay".

"I think I may be coming down with something. I feel a bit flu-y".

She turned her head towards me and I could see a fire in her eyes that slightly scared me.

"Really?" she asked, calmly but firmly, "Nothing to do with not bothering to come to bed? Nothing to do with drinking too much on a night? Nothing to do with wandering around aimlessly instead of spending time with your children?"

She was getting into full flow now.

"All bloody day I've been here" she hissed "waiting for you to get home. Not knowing where the bloody hell you are. And they've been asking where you are and why you disappeared" she gestured towards the garden, where the kids were now chasing each other around with their McDonalds toys. "You spend more time pissing about on your computer or in graveyards or in libraries or wherever than you do with us. And when you are here you're drinking. For Christ's Mark, make a bloody effort. Get washed, get to bed and we'll talk in the morning."

She turned back to the kettle and filled her cup. That was it. End of argument. I didn't have the energy to argue back anyway. I could barely stay on my feet, never mind construct a reasonable response, even if I had one. I turned around and walked back down the hallway to the staircase, leaning against the wall to prevent myself from falling over.

The climb up the stairs seemed like climbing a mountain. I was having to use my hands on the stairs to drag myself up, each step feeling like it was three feet high. Once in the bathroom I switched the shower on and sat on the edge of the bath to undress, each movement eliciting a groan. I stood at the sink and stared into the mirror. God I looked awful, even worse than I did in the pub, my eyes totally bloodshot now, my face pale and drawn apart from the bags under my eyes. I looked like death warmed up.

I tried to stand in the shower but could only last a couple of minutes. Eventually I sat in the shower tray and let the cool water spray over me, occasionally rubbing my face or my arms. I must have been in there for a good twenty minutes before I switched it off and crawled out.

I sat on the edge of the bath again, a towel wrapped around my waist and another draped over my shoulder. I didn't bother to rub myself dry, I just allowed myself to drip dry for about ten minutes. I stood up and looked in the mirror again. I looked no better. I couldn't muster the energy to brush my teeth or even find anything to wear in bed. I dropped the towels to the floor, staggered through the door into my bedroom and fell on to the bed. Apart from the dreams, that was that last thing I remember.