Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer by Demelza Carlton
scared. You don't need your car any more.
She glanced around at the neighbours and lifted her lips in a forced smile. "The car's fine. Please, help me up and back to my house." She lifted her arms, looking up at me with a wide-eyed, desperate smile on her face.
I tried to lift her up, but she muttered, "Just help me walk."
"But you'll hurt yourself," I protested. "That's too far for you to walk."
Her smile was strained. "I got this far on my own, didn't I? Do it, Nathan. Or my neighbours will interfere and they're fairly protective of me when Dad's not around. Especially now..."
Against my best judgement, I helped her stand up, taking as much of her weight as I could as I helped her walk home, knowing I'd have nightmares about her tooth-grinding smile after this.
Her face was almost drained of all colour by the time she staggered up the steps to her front door. Even with me holding her, she was swaying on her feet. "Nathan... please... the door..." she panted. She looked like she was going to pass out.
I turned the handle and kicked it open, lifting Caitlin off her feet before she fell.
"No... must..." she murmured, her eyes closed.
"You must rest," I finished for her, carrying her over the threshold like my precious bride. At least the precious part was true.
I let her down onto the couch, where she sat with her eyes closed, unmoving, for a few minutes. I stood beside her, watching. I took my cap off, not caring how crazy a cocky's crest I had any more. I ran my fingers through it absently, probably making it worse.
I waited for her to catch her breath, for her eyelids to flutter open so I could ask her what had scared her so much and take care of it for her. But they didn't. Her breathing was shallow and slow.
I knelt down beside her. "Angel," I began.
"What is it, Nathan?" Her voice was flat but calm.
"Are you okay?" I asked, desperate to know.
A pause. "Not really. I'm hurting and hoping the pain will go away if I sit still long enough."
"Oh God," I burst out. "I'm so sorry I was late. What happened?"
Someone pounded on the door. I looked at Caitlin, unsure what to do.
She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, but she didn't move much. She nodded toward the door. "Please."
I stood and opened the door. My least favourite of her neighbours stood there, the bloke with the block splitter. The heavy axe didn't seem to be in his hands any more. I breathed a sigh of relief until I realised he'd propped it up beside the door so he had his hands free to knock. Fuck. "Can I help you?" I asked nervously. Behind him, I could see people still on their front lawns, watching.
"I want to make sure Caitlin's okay," he said, looking me right in the eye.
"Me, too, mate," I replied.
"It's okay, Nathan," Caitlin said behind me. I felt her hand on my arm and moved aside quickly, grabbing her before she collapsed. I held her to my side, trying to make it look friendly instead of forced by her frailty. "Thanks for coming to check on me, Bruce, but my friend Nathan's here to help me. I fell over and I think I hurt something. I'll be okay. I just need to rest a bit." Her body was threatening to make her rest right here on the floor if I let go. I managed a smile for her nosy, scary neighbour.
"If you say so," Bruce replied doubtfully. "If you need me for anything, all you have to do is ask. You have our number." He eyed me as he picked up his block splitter, swinging it up onto his shoulder as he walked back across the road to his own house.
I carried Caitlin back to the couch before I closed and locked the door. This time, I sat beside her. "What happened?" I repeated, urgently.
She smiled tiredly. "Nothing. I... nothing." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Is there any chance we can go out for dinner another night? I'm a little too tired and you look like a cockatoo."
I laughed, relieved. "Sure. I'll ring up and get something delivered."
She reached out, her hand patting my arm. "Thank you." The patting stopped, her hand resting limply on my wrist. I looked at her in concern. Poor Caitlin had passed out.
63
I waited a moment, calling her name softly, but I got no response. Even when I stroked her hair, she didn't move. I stretched Caitlin out on her side on the sofa, checking her breathing and all those things you do for first aid on an unconscious person. As I touched her legs, she whimpered slightly, so I moved away. I dug out her pain medication and placed it on the coffee table beside her with a glass of water.
Not sure how long it had been since she'd eaten, I washed and sliced up some strawberries for her. I left them on the coffee table, too.
It'd been a long time since my initial first aid training, but I was pretty sure I had one more step to follow. I pulled out my phone to call for help from an expert more qualified than I was.
"Why'd you put her to sleep on the couch? Wouldn't she be more comfortable in her own bed?" Navid asked, without so much as a hello.
"She's unconscious, not asleep," I replied, annoyed. "Look, I need to know what happened to scare her before I arrived. I'm trying to work out whether I should call an ambulance or if she'll be better off staying home where I can let her wake up normally."
"Nothing, mate," Navid drawled. I could imagine him leaning back and stretching out in his seat as he said it. "She was sitting pretty much where she is now, watching TV, before she noticed something outside. She used the remote control to turn the TV off and went to the window. She stood there for maybe a split second, then went out the front door. Whatever scared her wasn't in the house – it was outside with you. So, whatever it was, you must have seen it, too."
I racked my brains but came up with nothing. The neighbours hadn't been in sight until I started following Caitlin as she sprinted down the street. I shook my head. "I saw nothing dangerous outside. I don't know."
Navid laughed. "Maybe she's afraid of you, mate."
I joined in his laughter. "Yeah, right. Caitlin's not scared of me. Maybe I'll ask her again when she's awake. You keep an eye out, right? Make sure we have outside cameras, too, just in case." I ended the call. It felt weird not saying goodbye, but I could wave at the cameras if I wanted to.
I checked Caitlin's breathing and pulse again. Her breathing was even and her pulse was fine. It was like she was asleep instead of unconscious, worn out from walking and running too far. I wouldn't let her do it again – I'd lift her up and carry her, no matter what she said. For the first time, I noticed she was wearing lipstick, a deep, moist red that was the same colour as the strawberries I'd sliced.
I stared at her strawberries, magnified by the glass of water to an obscene size. I wanted a taste – just one – to see if they really were as amazing as I'd hoped, but I didn't dare. Not without asking Caitlin first.
I sat in the armchair beside Caitlin, wondering if I could turn the TV on without disturbing her. I decided it didn't matter – even if she did wake up, there was no way I'd let her do anything but rest.
My mind wandered as some inane TV show played in the background, the voices a vague buzz behind my busier thoughts, wondering what Caitlin had seen that I hadn't.
"Nathan?" Caitlin asked softly.
I sat up, suddenly alert. Reaching for the bowl of strawberries, I held them out to her. "Here, eat something, so you can take pain medication to help you."
She took the bowl with both hands and a smile. "Thank you." She popped a strawberry into her mouth.
I watched, mesmerised by the red on red.
Don't. Don't even think it.
64
Little bitch?
Loud shadow in the doorway.
Flipped him the finger.
Scared, determined to fight.
Biting, kicking, punching, scratching.
Half my face on fire, flying.
Landing heavily. Taste of blood, hurt to breathe. Broken ribs.
Him on top of me. Slamming my face into the floor.
Not her face. Need her pretty. r />
Raked my nails down his arm.
Broke my fingers. Both the middle ones.
So I could never say up yours to him again.
Fuck you instead then.
Arms twisting. Fighting not to scream.
Tied me up.
Glint of a knife in the dim light. Sliced at my clothes. Cut me, too.
Didn't care.
"It's okay, angel. A bad dream. You're safe at home."
"Broke my fingers. I have to... write it down, while I still remember."
"Are you sure it can't wait 'til morning?"
"No, it's a short one, I'll do it now."
"Do you need my help?"
"Don't worry about it, Nathan. You don't need to hear horrible stuff like this. I won't be long – go back to sleep. I will, soon, too."
65
"Right, time to go to your physio appointment," I said, slipping an arm under her knees and another behind her back, so I could lift Caitlin from her seat. The early morning sun shone brightly through the window behind me, casting my shadow over her.
"Put me down." Her voice was cold with fury as she struggled.
Agoraphobia, I thought, as I hesitated. She didn't want to leave the house now.
"Now, Nathan." She'd never used this tone on me before – I'd only heard it in her nightmares. I did as I was told, reseating her on the couch.
I crouched in front of her, trying to meet her eyes as I spoke. "Angel, I'm only trying to help you. Everyone's trying to help you. The doctors, the physio, even me. I want to help you – "
She hooked her arms around my neck, her face so close, looking into my eyes. She cut me off mid-sentence. "If you want to help me so much, don't carry me. Help me to walk."
"But yesterday, you hurt yourself.
She glanced around at the neighbours and lifted her lips in a forced smile. "The car's fine. Please, help me up and back to my house." She lifted her arms, looking up at me with a wide-eyed, desperate smile on her face.
I tried to lift her up, but she muttered, "Just help me walk."
"But you'll hurt yourself," I protested. "That's too far for you to walk."
Her smile was strained. "I got this far on my own, didn't I? Do it, Nathan. Or my neighbours will interfere and they're fairly protective of me when Dad's not around. Especially now..."
Against my best judgement, I helped her stand up, taking as much of her weight as I could as I helped her walk home, knowing I'd have nightmares about her tooth-grinding smile after this.
Her face was almost drained of all colour by the time she staggered up the steps to her front door. Even with me holding her, she was swaying on her feet. "Nathan... please... the door..." she panted. She looked like she was going to pass out.
I turned the handle and kicked it open, lifting Caitlin off her feet before she fell.
"No... must..." she murmured, her eyes closed.
"You must rest," I finished for her, carrying her over the threshold like my precious bride. At least the precious part was true.
I let her down onto the couch, where she sat with her eyes closed, unmoving, for a few minutes. I stood beside her, watching. I took my cap off, not caring how crazy a cocky's crest I had any more. I ran my fingers through it absently, probably making it worse.
I waited for her to catch her breath, for her eyelids to flutter open so I could ask her what had scared her so much and take care of it for her. But they didn't. Her breathing was shallow and slow.
I knelt down beside her. "Angel," I began.
"What is it, Nathan?" Her voice was flat but calm.
"Are you okay?" I asked, desperate to know.
A pause. "Not really. I'm hurting and hoping the pain will go away if I sit still long enough."
"Oh God," I burst out. "I'm so sorry I was late. What happened?"
Someone pounded on the door. I looked at Caitlin, unsure what to do.
She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, but she didn't move much. She nodded toward the door. "Please."
I stood and opened the door. My least favourite of her neighbours stood there, the bloke with the block splitter. The heavy axe didn't seem to be in his hands any more. I breathed a sigh of relief until I realised he'd propped it up beside the door so he had his hands free to knock. Fuck. "Can I help you?" I asked nervously. Behind him, I could see people still on their front lawns, watching.
"I want to make sure Caitlin's okay," he said, looking me right in the eye.
"Me, too, mate," I replied.
"It's okay, Nathan," Caitlin said behind me. I felt her hand on my arm and moved aside quickly, grabbing her before she collapsed. I held her to my side, trying to make it look friendly instead of forced by her frailty. "Thanks for coming to check on me, Bruce, but my friend Nathan's here to help me. I fell over and I think I hurt something. I'll be okay. I just need to rest a bit." Her body was threatening to make her rest right here on the floor if I let go. I managed a smile for her nosy, scary neighbour.
"If you say so," Bruce replied doubtfully. "If you need me for anything, all you have to do is ask. You have our number." He eyed me as he picked up his block splitter, swinging it up onto his shoulder as he walked back across the road to his own house.
I carried Caitlin back to the couch before I closed and locked the door. This time, I sat beside her. "What happened?" I repeated, urgently.
She smiled tiredly. "Nothing. I... nothing." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Is there any chance we can go out for dinner another night? I'm a little too tired and you look like a cockatoo."
I laughed, relieved. "Sure. I'll ring up and get something delivered."
She reached out, her hand patting my arm. "Thank you." The patting stopped, her hand resting limply on my wrist. I looked at her in concern. Poor Caitlin had passed out.
63
I waited a moment, calling her name softly, but I got no response. Even when I stroked her hair, she didn't move. I stretched Caitlin out on her side on the sofa, checking her breathing and all those things you do for first aid on an unconscious person. As I touched her legs, she whimpered slightly, so I moved away. I dug out her pain medication and placed it on the coffee table beside her with a glass of water.
Not sure how long it had been since she'd eaten, I washed and sliced up some strawberries for her. I left them on the coffee table, too.
It'd been a long time since my initial first aid training, but I was pretty sure I had one more step to follow. I pulled out my phone to call for help from an expert more qualified than I was.
"Why'd you put her to sleep on the couch? Wouldn't she be more comfortable in her own bed?" Navid asked, without so much as a hello.
"She's unconscious, not asleep," I replied, annoyed. "Look, I need to know what happened to scare her before I arrived. I'm trying to work out whether I should call an ambulance or if she'll be better off staying home where I can let her wake up normally."
"Nothing, mate," Navid drawled. I could imagine him leaning back and stretching out in his seat as he said it. "She was sitting pretty much where she is now, watching TV, before she noticed something outside. She used the remote control to turn the TV off and went to the window. She stood there for maybe a split second, then went out the front door. Whatever scared her wasn't in the house – it was outside with you. So, whatever it was, you must have seen it, too."
I racked my brains but came up with nothing. The neighbours hadn't been in sight until I started following Caitlin as she sprinted down the street. I shook my head. "I saw nothing dangerous outside. I don't know."
Navid laughed. "Maybe she's afraid of you, mate."
I joined in his laughter. "Yeah, right. Caitlin's not scared of me. Maybe I'll ask her again when she's awake. You keep an eye out, right? Make sure we have outside cameras, too, just in case." I ended the call. It felt weird not saying goodbye, but I could wave at the cameras if I wanted to.
I checked Caitlin's breathing and pulse again. Her breathing was even and her pulse was fine. It was like she was asleep instead of unconscious, worn out from walking and running too far. I wouldn't let her do it again – I'd lift her up and carry her, no matter what she said. For the first time, I noticed she was wearing lipstick, a deep, moist red that was the same colour as the strawberries I'd sliced.
I stared at her strawberries, magnified by the glass of water to an obscene size. I wanted a taste – just one – to see if they really were as amazing as I'd hoped, but I didn't dare. Not without asking Caitlin first.
I sat in the armchair beside Caitlin, wondering if I could turn the TV on without disturbing her. I decided it didn't matter – even if she did wake up, there was no way I'd let her do anything but rest.
My mind wandered as some inane TV show played in the background, the voices a vague buzz behind my busier thoughts, wondering what Caitlin had seen that I hadn't.
"Nathan?" Caitlin asked softly.
I sat up, suddenly alert. Reaching for the bowl of strawberries, I held them out to her. "Here, eat something, so you can take pain medication to help you."
She took the bowl with both hands and a smile. "Thank you." She popped a strawberry into her mouth.
I watched, mesmerised by the red on red.
Don't. Don't even think it.
64
Little bitch?
Loud shadow in the doorway.
Flipped him the finger.
Scared, determined to fight.
Biting, kicking, punching, scratching.
Half my face on fire, flying.
Landing heavily. Taste of blood, hurt to breathe. Broken ribs.
Him on top of me. Slamming my face into the floor.
Not her face. Need her pretty.
Raked my nails down his arm.
Broke my fingers. Both the middle ones.
So I could never say up yours to him again.
Fuck you instead then.
Arms twisting. Fighting not to scream.
Tied me up.
Glint of a knife in the dim light. Sliced at my clothes. Cut me, too.
Didn't care.
"It's okay, angel. A bad dream. You're safe at home."
"Broke my fingers. I have to... write it down, while I still remember."
"Are you sure it can't wait 'til morning?"
"No, it's a short one, I'll do it now."
"Do you need my help?"
"Don't worry about it, Nathan. You don't need to hear horrible stuff like this. I won't be long – go back to sleep. I will, soon, too."
65
"Right, time to go to your physio appointment," I said, slipping an arm under her knees and another behind her back, so I could lift Caitlin from her seat. The early morning sun shone brightly through the window behind me, casting my shadow over her.
"Put me down." Her voice was cold with fury as she struggled.
Agoraphobia, I thought, as I hesitated. She didn't want to leave the house now.
"Now, Nathan." She'd never used this tone on me before – I'd only heard it in her nightmares. I did as I was told, reseating her on the couch.
I crouched in front of her, trying to meet her eyes as I spoke. "Angel, I'm only trying to help you. Everyone's trying to help you. The doctors, the physio, even me. I want to help you – "
She hooked her arms around my neck, her face so close, looking into my eyes. She cut me off mid-sentence. "If you want to help me so much, don't carry me. Help me to walk."
"But yesterday, you hurt yourself.