Crispin meets Gina

Follow on from The Beginning

Silence. His eyes were locked on hers. Red from crying, blotchy. He looked hollow to her. Every ounce of hate she imagined he felt for her and Joe was all over his face.

She put her hands up, trying to show she meant no harm and approached slowly. His eyes followed her.

“My name is Gina. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What the fuck have you done to me?” he spat, his breath coming in rasps.

“How…how much do you remember?” His face went blank. He looked down at the hand in his lap. His only remaining hand.

“Not much…” he admitted. He remembered the roads were slick from the morning rain. The sound of car tyres on the wet tar was loud in his ears and just before crossing the street he looked up. She was at the café just like planned. He remembered her face – she was watching him, and a smile found her lips when their eyes met. But then it went blank.

“There was an explosion. You were caught in it…” Gina realised her words sounded feeble and paused, trying to find the right way to explain it all.

“Penny? Where’s Penny?”

Gina looked down. She hadn’t helped a Penny. Most of the bodies were still unidentified. There were too many; it would take weeks to hunt down a single person.

He started panicking again, grabbing at tubes and tugging at bandages. Gina ran to his side and grabbed his hand away.

“Please, don’t. I don’t know a Penny. But that doesn’t mean the worst. I can try find out for you. But you need to calm down. I know it’s hard but you need to try.” His hand went limp in hers. She didn’t let go.

“Who are you? Why am I here? This isn’t a hospital.” He was making an effort to control himself. Good, she thought.

Honesty is the best policy, right?

“I – well… Look, you have to understand the hospitals were taking a strain. Not enough beds, not enough staff… No one wanted you – said you would die, that to take you would not… Well, the bed and the personnel would be better suited to someone who would survive…”

Gina couldn’t look at him. He fingers shook, and his palm felt damp. She stayed silent.

“What is your name?” She finally managed to say. She hadn’t found any ID on his person.

“Crispin,” he answered.

 

Originally written: [22:32] 19/01/2011
Edited: [21:11] 01/09/2011

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"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown."

- T. S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (1917)

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