Misconception by Rebecca Freeborn

Author:Rebecca Freeborn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pantera Press

Tom

Jason had already bagged a squash court and was hitting a ball against the wall when Tom arrived. Tom dropped his gym bag in the corner and stretched his limbs to ready himself for action. It had been so long since they’d played squash, and the renewal of their years-long ritual was both a comfort and a reminder of what they’d both been through.

Tom watched as Jason hit the ball hard into the wall and missed it on the rebound. As his friend turned to follow its trajectory, he spotted Tom and came over. They shook hands awkwardly.

‘Hey,’ Jason said. ‘I’m a bit early. I can’t stay too long.’

‘No worries,’ Tom said. ‘How’s Anthea?’

Jason’s mouth collapsed into a pained smile. ‘She got another infection last week, but the doctors have given her this medication that’s supposed to boost her white blood cells so she can fight off viruses. So hopefully she’ll stay out of hospital this time, but apparently it’s going to cause her bone pain instead. Fuck. I don’t know how she does it. I feel like it’s killing me, and I’m not the one who has to go through it.’

‘How are the girls coping?’

‘They’re worried about their mum, of course, but they stay pretty cheerful. Kids, hey? We’re so lucky to have them.’

The words stabbed through Tom’s heart and his breath caught in his throat.

Jason took in his expression and let out a groan. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’

Tom forced the hurt aside, as he’d trained himself to do over the months. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘How’s Ali doing?’

Tom just shook his head in response. Mostly, people had stopped asking him how he was. Almost as if he’d only been on the fringe of the loss. But they still asked after Ali.

‘Want to get started?’ He bounced the ball a couple of times and moved into position, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet.

There was a certain comfort in the familiarity of slamming the ball into the wall, busting his arse to get across the court to return it, the shriek of their shoes on the shiny floor, the thock of racquet on ball and their grunts of effort. He’d been running every day, but it was a solitary exercise, and Tom craved company, even if it was the relative anonymity of a sport that gave him little opportunity to talk.

Their game was hard and fast, neither man giving way to the other. Tom lost the point after a long rally and they paused, hands on their knees, breathing hard.

‘So is Ali OK?’ Jason asked between breaths. ‘She seemed a bit… messed up when we saw her the other week. Anthea was worried about her.’

Tom hadn’t thought he wanted to talk about it, but now the words began to pour out of him. ‘She’s the walking dead. She eats, sleeps, works, but that’s it. She won’t talk to me. She won’t discuss Elizabeth. It’s like she never even existed.’

‘Shit,’ Jason said.

‘She started seeing a psychologist and I thought that might help, but she won’t tell me anything about her sessions.

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