hot. I am sweating. I am screaming. No. No! NO!
I open my eyes. My bed is drenched in sweat. Did I shout out? I listen tentatively for Dad to come in, to see what’s going on; he doesn’t. I am panting, out of breath. It was a dream. Just a dream.
I get out of bed. It was just a dream, I tell myself again, more firmly this time.
I’m trembling. I realise I’m cold. I pull on some clothes. I don’t want to get back into bed. I need to get out of this room; I feel like I’m suffocating.
My eyes are drawn to the window. I pull back the curtains. I can see Claire’s room. The lights are off; she’s asleep. I look at my watch: 2.46 a.m. I look back at Claire’s room. Ten minutes pass. Without thinking too much about what I’m doing, I carefully open the window, doing my best to stop it squeaking too much. Then I hang my legs out of it, turn around so I’m holding on to the windowsill by my hands and drop down. The grass is wet beneath my feet. I look back up to make sure no one’s heard me then laugh at myself. Dad will have drunk too much whisky to hear anything.
I run down to the end of the garden and pull myself over the fence. Now I’m padding up Claire’s garden. I reach her house; I’m underneath her window. I stop. What am I doing? This is crazy. I’m going to go home. I don’t know what I was thinking.
I start to move, then stop. I bring my hands to my mouth and coo like a pigeon. It’s what we used to do. It was our call.
I wait a few seconds; she hasn’t heard me. Or she’s ignoring me. If I go now, I can pretend it never happened. I start to jog back towards the fence. Then I hear something. I stop. I turn around. Claire’s window is open. She is looking at me strangely, her face pale in the moonlight. She looks like Rapunzel, like I could climb up her hair.
‘Will? Is that you?’ She sounds incredulous but not surprised. ‘Do you know what time it is?’
g
CHAPTER TEN
I don’t know why I’m here, can’t remember what propelled me out of the window. I’m embarrassed; I’m nervous. I have climbed up into Claire’s bedroom and she has given me a glass of water; I’m sitting at the end of her bed. She is looking at me expectantly. It’s nearly 3 a.m. and I have pitched up, cooing like a pigeon for the first time in years. I can’t believe she let me in, if I’m honest.
‘I should go,’ is all I can think of to say. What does she think of me? I don’t want to care, but I do. Desperately. Which is why I want to leave. I need her approval too much. It makes me feel vulnerable.
Claire rolls her eyes. ‘You came all this way to say that?’
I scowl. Her voice isn’t as soft as I’d like. Her eyes aren’t as forgiving.
‘I thought . . .’ I look down. I don’t want to leave, not really. ‘I don’t know what I thought. I just . . .’
‘Will, you’re as white as a sheet and you’re shaking. Just sit there for a little while if you want. Then you can tell me what the matter is. OK?’
It sounds reasonable enough. I nod. I like hearing her say my name.
‘So?’ Claire asks.
I get the feeling my little while is up. I shrug. ‘I guess I had a nightmare, that’s all.’
‘You still get those?’
I look at her sharply. ‘I got them before?’
‘You’ve always had them. Ever since I’ve known you.’
‘Right.’ I feel unsettled. I’d forgotten I’d had them so long. I’d sort of thought it had been a year, two years tops.
‘So what was your nightmare about?’
I feel stupid suddenly. It was just a dream. It’s not important or anything.
‘I dunno. People dying.’
‘Which people?’ She isn’t looking at me like I’m crazy. She seems interested.
‘People. First on a ship. I think it was a ship. Then . . .’ I trail off. If it was someone else I’d think they were only getting me to talk so they could laugh at me later. Claire, though, she’s not like that. I wish I could be more like her sometimes.
She’s looking at me intently,
I open my eyes. My bed is drenched in sweat. Did I shout out? I listen tentatively for Dad to come in, to see what’s going on; he doesn’t. I am panting, out of breath. It was a dream. Just a dream.
I get out of bed. It was just a dream, I tell myself again, more firmly this time.
I’m trembling. I realise I’m cold. I pull on some clothes. I don’t want to get back into bed. I need to get out of this room; I feel like I’m suffocating.
My eyes are drawn to the window. I pull back the curtains. I can see Claire’s room. The lights are off; she’s asleep. I look at my watch: 2.46 a.m. I look back at Claire’s room. Ten minutes pass. Without thinking too much about what I’m doing, I carefully open the window, doing my best to stop it squeaking too much. Then I hang my legs out of it, turn around so I’m holding on to the windowsill by my hands and drop down. The grass is wet beneath my feet. I look back up to make sure no one’s heard me then laugh at myself. Dad will have drunk too much whisky to hear anything.
I run down to the end of the garden and pull myself over the fence. Now I’m padding up Claire’s garden. I reach her house; I’m underneath her window. I stop. What am I doing? This is crazy. I’m going to go home. I don’t know what I was thinking.
I start to move, then stop. I bring my hands to my mouth and coo like a pigeon. It’s what we used to do. It was our call.
I wait a few seconds; she hasn’t heard me. Or she’s ignoring me. If I go now, I can pretend it never happened. I start to jog back towards the fence. Then I hear something. I stop. I turn around. Claire’s window is open. She is looking at me strangely, her face pale in the moonlight. She looks like Rapunzel, like I could climb up her hair.
‘Will? Is that you?’ She sounds incredulous but not surprised. ‘Do you know what time it is?’
g
CHAPTER TEN
I don’t know why I’m here, can’t remember what propelled me out of the window. I’m embarrassed; I’m nervous. I have climbed up into Claire’s bedroom and she has given me a glass of water; I’m sitting at the end of her bed. She is looking at me expectantly. It’s nearly 3 a.m. and I have pitched up, cooing like a pigeon for the first time in years. I can’t believe she let me in, if I’m honest.
‘I should go,’ is all I can think of to say. What does she think of me? I don’t want to care, but I do. Desperately. Which is why I want to leave. I need her approval too much. It makes me feel vulnerable.
Claire rolls her eyes. ‘You came all this way to say that?’
I scowl. Her voice isn’t as soft as I’d like. Her eyes aren’t as forgiving.
‘I thought . . .’ I look down. I don’t want to leave, not really. ‘I don’t know what I thought. I just . . .’
‘Will, you’re as white as a sheet and you’re shaking. Just sit there for a little while if you want. Then you can tell me what the matter is. OK?’
It sounds reasonable enough. I nod. I like hearing her say my name.
‘So?’ Claire asks.
I get the feeling my little while is up. I shrug. ‘I guess I had a nightmare, that’s all.’
‘You still get those?’
I look at her sharply. ‘I got them before?’
‘You’ve always had them. Ever since I’ve known you.’
‘Right.’ I feel unsettled. I’d forgotten I’d had them so long. I’d sort of thought it had been a year, two years tops.
‘So what was your nightmare about?’
I feel stupid suddenly. It was just a dream. It’s not important or anything.
‘I dunno. People dying.’
‘Which people?’ She isn’t looking at me like I’m crazy. She seems interested.
‘People. First on a ship. I think it was a ship. Then . . .’ I trail off. If it was someone else I’d think they were only getting me to talk so they could laugh at me later. Claire, though, she’s not like that. I wish I could be more like her sometimes.
She’s looking at me intently,
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