Ok guys. I accidentally deleted this story last week! Luckily it was all saved so here it is again. This was our first shot at fanfiction so please be nice. We own nothing...please don't sue us. Love Jeepster and Scully xxx
The Reeling
Anita's eyes focused on the radio alarm that had woken her from her sleep; the time read 6.45 and Wham's 'I'm Your Man' blared out of the speakers, rudely waking her from a peaceful slumber. Normally she would smile to herself, a song that was in the charts in her childhood being dredged up and played again for its retro value, intending to take listeners back to where they were when it was first in the charts. However, she came right back to earth with a bump as a hopelessly cheerful Tony Blackburn chirped, "Good morning, listeners, it's a lovely June morning, and that was Wham with their brand new number one hit 'I'm Your Man'! Well done, guys!"...And there it was. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to her, but those moments of blissful ignorance were over for this morning anyway: it was 1985 and she was stuck there! She would have laughed at the absurdity of it all but she was past that now, past the hysterics (hysterics which had lasted a few days, actually), but now, weeks down the line, all she felt was abject loneliness. Sure, she was still in Manchester-her home town, the city she knew like the back of her hand, but she was a stranger to this version of it. Somewhere in this city there was a 2 year old Anita playing with her toys, annoying her brother and she could only pray they never crossed paths.
Sometimes at night, somewhere between waking and sleep she could have sworn she heard hospital monitors, the voices of her Mum and nurses, talking way up above her. She'd bolt upright in her bed, coated in a sheen of cold sweat, crying at the bewilderment she felt. She surmised that this was some kind of side effect to the coma, some kind of coping mechanism her brain had come up with in order to keep her sane whilst her body tried to fix itself. Only now, she couldn't recall what it was she was trying to fix or what it was that catapulted her here in the first place. She just hoped it wouldn't be too long before she woke up from this world because one thing was for sure, she didn't belong in it.
She'd never before truly appreciated the misogyny and inequality that her mother's generation had to put up with. After all, 1985 wasn't that long ago; it was the year of Live Aid and Bananarama for God's sake-but back in a dingy office in central Manchester, the 'cock and balls brigade' reigned supreme.
"Tea with two sugars, luv!" was the first greeting she acquired stepping through the CID office doors. She rolled her eyes inwardly Fucks sake, she thought. She had no idea why her brain had placed her here, must've watched too much X-Files on the telly, she guessed. But she was a civil engineer in 2009; why in the hell would she choose to while away her unconscious hours in this smoky, grubby den of iniquity? And furthermore, why the bloody hell would she choose to be a personal assistant to the DCI? Who, as it happened that morning, was notable by his absence. It wasn't like Jim Keats to be late; he was never late. Most nights she could swear he slept in that sauna of an office of his.
Now, there was an enigma if there ever was one, she thought to herself as she filled the kettle for the first time of many that day. Jim wasn't cut from the same cloth as the other blokes in the office. Barry and Trev, they were okay, she thought. They were just your average Mr Salford 1985- liked to show off when she was around, stared at her arse when they thought she wasn't looking. But Jim, there was something amiss with him, and in the last month since she started as his PA, she hadn't been able to put her finger on it. He spoke to her with the utmost respect, never ending sentences with patronizing pet names like 'luv' or 'sweetheart', and for that she supposed she should be grateful. However, instead of gratitude, all she felt was a deep sense of unease.
"Morning, Anita!" Jim's cheery voice startled her out of her reverie, causing her to drop the mug she was holding. "Oh I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Thought you would have heard me come in." Jim's voice was soft and apologetic. "Heh," she sighed in a flustered breath. "No, it's okay; my apologies, I was miles away." She started to pick up the pieces of the shattered mug, and before she knew it, Jim was helping her. "Be careful, don't cut your hands," he intoned in a voice that was too close for comfort. "Oh, don't be silly-I'll be fine, you go on through. I'll bring you a coffee," she replied cheerily, trying not to look too uncomfortable.
The day progressed mostly the same as all the ones before it. She mused to herself that she really must have a fertile imagination as this was oh-so-very, ridiculously real. The sights, the sounds, the smells- they all played on her brain as if she were really living this life. If only she weren't fearful for her life, if only she didn't miss her family so badly, she might be able to almost enjoy the journey, this day trip around the past. It had only been a month and already she found herself playing along with the game; she'd bought the NME on Wednesdays and perused the back pages for upcoming gigs. She was a little early for the Stone Roses, but she could still make The Smiths at the Manchester vs Cancer concert. Her heart missed a few beats at the thought of it. She must call Sue later and talk her into coming along.
Sue. She was another thing altogether, another crazy, silly little construct that her noggin had dreamed up. Sue had held her hair back for her in the pub toilets the very first night she'd arrived in 1985. Bewildered and alone, Anita, after a day of shouting and screaming and damn near being arrested, had decided that the only thing for it was to go to the pub with her new 'workmates' and drink them all under the table. This earned her mad props-'one of the team' status, even- but it was all rather short lived when she staggered off discreetly near the end of the night to throw up the 6 pints, 4 whiskey chasers and Bacardi and Coke. Anita wasn't sure who it was holding back her red tresses, only that she was grateful. After much dry heaving and staring down the unforgiving white of the cold council issue toilet, she turned around, not before wiping her eyes. "Aunty SUE?"
"God, you really have had a skin full, haven't you, luv?" There was a long pause as Anita assessed the young woman before her ; they must have been about the same age and they looked so similar they could have been sisters. Both women were about 5'6", both had the same blue eyes, the same size ten figure, and although Sue clearly had the advantage of a D cup chest, they shared the same flame red hair trailing down their backs, the same milk bottle white complexion. This wasn't a stranger to Anita, and it was all she could do not to collapse into a heap on her and ask to be taken home. Sue was her mother's younger sister, the one who spoilt Anita rotten when she was a kid-her favorite aunt.
"How do you know my name?" Sue enquired; she seemed to find this whole situation rather amusing. "Erm, I must have overheard. Anyway, sorry, thanks for looking after me just then." Anita's eyes gestured to the toilet behind them and went to wash her hands. "It's ok, I'm a trainee nurse, it's become second nature to me. Not sure I like it though!" Sue laughed as if she'd known Anita her whole life. "Seems like all I'm good for is cleaning up other people's sick!" Anita stood to face her. "Oh, no, no, no, no," some of the alcohol clearly still in her system."You, you're a fantastic nurse, you're brilliant!" Anita spoke with such conviction. Sue's brows furrowed, "How could you even know that?" Sue crossed her arms and dug them into her blue sweater. "Err...", Anita stammered. Great, Anita, how do you back track this, she thought."Well, just then, I was just a girl with her head down the toilet and you, you just waded right in there and held my hair back, I could have been anyone and ..." Anita's voice broke as she stared into Sue's eyes.
"Do I know you? Your...your face, it's really familiar," Sue interrupted, her blue eyes squinting as she tried to place the face before her.
Anita felt tears well in her eyes, willing, wanting to believe that in that moment Sue might know who she was, that she would throw her arms around her and tell her everything would be okay. She searched around inside herself for a voice and all she could manage was, "You will."
Sue did know her, though not in the way Anita had hoped. It turned out that Sue had been friends with some of the officers from the station. In their line of work their paths often crossed, and more and more Anita found herself sat in the corner of the pub after work with Sue, talking as if they had always known one another. She wasn't Aunty Sue anymore; she was Sue, 26 years old, and about the nearest thing to a friend Anita had.