Every Touch (32 page)

   For a couple of seconds she just stood, breathing and swallowing.  Then she carefully peered through the narrow pane of glass in the door.  The man was faced away from her, still walking back to his workbench.  Pulling the door back a fraction, she peeled away a piece of clear tape she had stuck to her hand and pressed it down over the latch, then left it to close again. 

   Walking to a bench some way along the corridor, she sat down and tried to lower her heart rate to under two hundred.

   She had to wait for almost an hour before there was any movement from the blood bank door.  Each time someone passed she tried to relax and look like she belonged there, expecting her presence to be challenged at any second. 

   Finally, the door opened.  She quickly got up and ducked around a corner.  After a few seconds, she peered back at the door to see the man walking away from her along the corridor.  When he’d disappeared around the corner at the far end, she ran to the door and pulled.  It opened as the tape keeping the latch in place in the door held firm. 

   With a final look up and down the hallway, she entered the room. 

   A quick look around the large room filled with equipment and computers revealed no blood, but a steel door in the back wall looked promising.  She walked quickly to it and tugged on the large handle.  The thick door swung open on silent hinges and a rush of cold air enveloped her. She shivered for a moment, then plunged in.

   She was surrounded by refrigerated blood, both in bags and as samples in racks of test tubes.  For a few seconds she panicked, not knowing how she could find one specific bag of blood amongst it all.  But then she saw them, two large, square, red padded bags with white crosses on the side.  Laila guessed they must have been from the donor session that day. 

   She went straight to the first, unzipping it and searching the bags of blood inside, looking for Trish’s donor number.  It wasn’t on any of them.  She quickly closed the bag and moved on to the second.  She was nervous.  She didn’t know how long she had before the technician got back, or even where he was.  The risk was huge and she was beginning to think it would be for nothing when she saw the number she’d been looking for.

   Grabbing the bag of blood, a relieved smile on her face, she zipped the padded bag back up, closed the door of the walk in refrigerator and went back to the door to the corridor.  She slipped the cold bag of blood beneath her hoodie, gasping as the chill seeped through her t-shirt.  A quick look left and right outside the door revealed the hallway to be empty and she slipped out.

   “What on earth are you doing?”

   Laila froze, hand about to remove the tape from the door latch.  She turned slowly around to look behind her.

   “What are you doing?” Kelly repeated, her hands on her hips.

   Laila glanced at the door then at her sister. 

   “Nothing,” she said, suddenly feeling like a guilty child. 

   How had Kelly found her?  The cold bag, only separated from her body by her thin t-shirt, made her shiver involuntarily. 

   Kelly narrowed her eyes.  She looked down at Laila’s torso.

   “What are you hiding?” she said.

   “I’m not a child, Kelly, and you aren’t the police.”

   She ripped the tape from the door and it clicked shut.

   “Damn it, Lai, when are you going to realise I’m on your side?”

   At that moment, Laila spotted the lab technician over Kelly’s shoulder, walking towards them.  She turned away quickly, searching for somewhere to hide before he saw her.  She spotted a door in the hallway wall on her left with the symbol for a ladies toilet.  She headed for it, not waiting to see what her sister would do. 

   What she did do was follow her into the toilet, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it.

   The small room contained a toilet, a basin and a large metal pedal operated bin.  It was big enough for a wheelchair to get into, but still didn’t feel large enough to Laila for her and her sister.

   “Can’t you just leave me alone?” she hissed, not wanting anyone outside to hear.

   “What were you doing in the blood bank?” Kelly said, also keeping her voice low.

   Laila tightened her arms around herself, feeling the cold bag of Trish’s blood press against her stomach.  “Are you following me?”

   “I saw your car outside and came to find you.  I thought you’d come here to see me.  I thought something was wrong.” 

   Kelly’s accusatory stare made Laila step back.  She felt the basin press against her lower back.

   “Please, just let me leave.  You don’t need to know what’s going on.”  It was a vain effort.  She knew Kelly wouldn’t simply let her go. 

   “This is my hospital.  Of course I need to know what you’re doing.”

   “Oh Kelly, you just work here.”  She couldn’t prevent the fear induced irritation from creeping into her tone.  “You don’t own the place.”

   It was the wrong thing to say.

   Kelly frowned.

   “What are you hiding under there?” she demanded, her voice becoming louder.

   Laila glanced at the door anxiously.

   “Show me.”

   Fear, frustration and anger caused Laila to snap.  “For once in your life, stop being such an interfering bitch!”

   Kelly gasped, her eyes widening then narrowing.  She lunged forward and grabbed Laila’s arms, pulling them away from her torso and jerking her body.  The cold bag came loose and slid from under her hoodie.  It hit the floor with a wet sounding slap.

   Kelly stepped back instinctively, still holding onto Laila’s arms, pulling her forward.  Laila stumbled, her right foot stepping forward automatically to keep her balance and coming down hard onto the bag.

   With a small pop, it burst. 

   Blood flowed out over the tiled floor.

   “No!” Laila gasped, dropping to her knees and grabbing the bag.  Not even half the blood remained inside.  She stared helplessly at the rest oozing along the grout lines and between the dimples of the beige ceramic tiles.

   Sitting back on her heels, tears rose to her eyes.  She’d failed.  She had been so close and she’d failed.  What was the line?  Snatching failure from the jaws of victory?  This had been the only way she and Denny could be certain of having everything they needed for the ritual.  Now, nothing was certain.  Now they would need both Trish and Kelly’s help and neither of them could be guaranteed.

   She looked up at her sister, tears streaking her face.  Kelly was standing with her mouth open, shock etched onto her features.

   “What... whose... why...?” 

   The thought came to Laila that this could be the first time she’d ever seen Kelly speechless.  She would have laughed if she didn’t feel so utterly hopeless.

   Dragging herself to her feet, she used the pedal on the clinical waste bin to open it, tossing in the mostly empty blood bag.  Then, grabbing handfuls of toilet paper, she began mopping up the rest of the blood from the floor and throwing it into the toilet.  Kelly stared at her in stunned silence. 

   When Laila had finished cleaning the floor and washed her hands, she grabbed Kelly’s arm roughly.

   “You want to know what’s going on?” she said, her voice harsh.  “Come on then.”

   The corridor outside the toilet was empty, for which Laila was grateful, and she marched Kelly to the stairs and down to the main foyer, through the doors and out to the car park.  It was then that her sister finally found her voice.

   “Hold on,” she said, pulling her arm from Laila’s grasp and stopping.  “Where are we going?  I need an explanation.”  She ran her hand distractedly over her blonde hair which was pulled into a bun.  “This is insane.”

   “We’re going to my flat.  You will get your explanation there.”

   “But... that blood.  You stole that blood.”

   “Yes, and I had a very good reason, but you ruined everything.  So unless you’re going to turn me in, come on.”

   She turned and walked away, hoping desperately that Kelly was following and not running back inside to have her arrested.  After a few steps she heard footsteps run up and fall in beside her.

   “This had better be good,” Kelly said.

   They drove in convoy back to the flat, taking their respective cars.  Kelly didn’t speak at all as they rode up in the lift.  Laila’s emotions had gone from shock to anger to misery to desperation on the way home.  They had now settled on fear fused with despair. 

   She couldn’t imagine how her sister was going to react to Denny, but there was no option now other than to introduce them.  Kelly’s meddling could cost her everything, might have done so already.  Plus, they needed her.  Assuming they could convince Trish to give her blood, they needed Kelly’s medical skills to take it.

   She was about to introduce her sister to her ghost boyfriend.  It sounded like an eighties sitcom storyline.

   Opening the door to the flat, she stepped in ahead of Kelly and looked around. 

   “Denny?” 

   A body rushed into her, almost knocking her from her feet.  Denny grabbed her and held her against him.  His face pressed against her neck, his lips moving against her skin as he spoke.  Not caring what Kelly saw, Laila gave in, crumpled into his arms and cried. 

*

By the time Laila got home, Denny was surprised he hadn’t worn a channel in the floor where he’d been pacing.  Not knowing what was happening and not being able to help was almost more than he could bear.  He’d received a text from Laila after she had convinced Jack to help telling him she was going to the blood bank at the hospital, but that was the last he’d heard.  Anything could have happened to her and he wouldn’t have known.

   When she finally came through the door and called his name all he could do was grab onto her and tell her he loved her.  Then she started crying and he felt like the ground had collapsed beneath his feet.  Something had happened to make her cry and he hadn’t been there to protect her.  He never wanted to let her go again.

   And then he saw Kelly walk through the door which was the last thing he expected.  Laila must have felt him stiffen because she looked up. 

   He was staring at Kelly. 

   Kelly was staring at Laila.

   “I failed,” Laila said.

   Denny looked down at her.

   “I had Trish’s blood and I lost it.  I’m so sorry.”

   He kissed her forehead and tightened his hold on her.

   “It’s alright,” he said against her skin.  “Don’t cry.  It’ll be alright.”

   She held onto him, her hands clutching his shirt in the way that always made his heart skip beats.  Her head leaned against his chest.

   “Laila, who are you talking to?”

   Kelly was looking at her sister as if she had completely lost her mind.  Denny tried to imagine the scene from her point of view.  The sight of Laila hugging the air must have been quite bizarre.

   He felt Laila take a deep breath and pull away from him and she turned to look at Kelly.

   “You wanted to know what was going on, this is it.  Kelly, meet my boyfriend, Denny Carpenter.”

   Denny’s eyes widened.  He looked from Laila to Kelly, the sudden introduction taking him completely off guard.

   Distressed sympathy filled Kelly’s face.  “Oh Laila.  Honey, there’s no-one...”

   Trusting that Laila knew what she was doing, Denny placed his hand on Kelly’s shoulder.  She shrieked and recoiled away from him.

   “What the hell was that?!”

   He glanced at Laila and grinned as she tried to hide her smile.  He could imagine how good this vindication felt after weeks of having her sister think she was nuts.

   “That was Denny.  You were right, he is dead.  He is also a ghost.”  

   “Wha...?” Kelly’s eyes were darting around the room.  “I can’t see anything.”

   “You can’t see or hear him.  You can only feel him.  Hold your hand out.”

   “I... no... this is insane...”

   “Please Kelly, just trust me this time.”

   Kelly looked at Laila and Denny suddenly saw the love in her eyes for her little sister.  He felt bad for how angry he’d been at her.  She had only been trying to do what she thought was right for Laila.

    She extended a trembling hand.  He gently took hold of it.

   “Please don’t freak out,” he said.

   She looked at her hand.  “I can feel a hand,” she said, sounding terrified and awed at the same time.  “A man’s hand.”

   “Yes,” Laila said, “and there’s a whole man attached to it too.”

   Kelly lifted her free hand and hesitantly laid it on his forearm.  She began to move up his arm, patting and sliding her way up his bicep to his shoulder then onto his chest where it changed direction and began to head south.  He watched it move with increasing apprehension, wondering how far it was going to go.

   “Um, Kel,” Laila said, “you’re feeling up my boyfriend.”

   Denny laughed as Kelly gasped and pulled both hands away from him.