12 December 2014
"Take the plunge, Craig! What have you got to lose?" The dark-haired beauty urged him on.
Craig looked outside, at the clouds around the plane, the green fields below, the houses that looked so small from this angle.
"My life," he whispered. "Like you did."
"But I did jump. That's always gonna be risky. And I wasn't scared. Not when it came to it. And neither will you." Sarah smiled at him. "Come, let's do it together." She took his hand and led him to the open door. "On three, yeah?"
He nodded.
"One. Two. Three."
Craig felt his feet leave the floor as they jumped but before he experienced the wind hitting him and the free fall, he was jerked back to consciousness, as he woke up in his bed in Dublin.
Sarah's smile lingered on in his mind and a plan formed in his head. He knew what to do. He got out of bed and headed for the shower. He had work to do.
Who finished the last of the milk? John Paul thought to himself as he tried to pour from the bottle that he'd found almost empty in the fridge. His morning cup of coffee wouldn't be the same without it. I'm sure we had enough last night. He didn't want to shout at the other family members and disturb his quiet moment, so he decided to leave it for now and ask later. He opened the fridge again and found a little leftover of double cream which he poured into the coffee with the help of a teaspoon.
As he sat down at the kitchen table and mixed the coffee and cream he thought he could hear something outside his house. He took his cup and went to look through the kitchen window. Nothing there. He walked into the living room and took a peek through the curtains. He wasn't certain but he thought he saw some movement. He headed for the door but hesitated a bit before opening. He took one step outside and looked around. No-one was in the garden, but not very far away he could see the shape of a tall man. Something was weird with the way he walked. At first John Paul thought that he was limping, but suddenly it struck him. It was as if the man's legs had no knees, so he had to kind of shake them in half circles to put one in front of the other. Trying to imitate the motion, John Paul was amazed by the speed the strange man managed to make his way down the street.
Suddenly the December cold hit him and John Paul was reminded that he was only wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown. He hurried back inside, but took one look back before he closed the door. The man had disappeared.
John Paul sat down on the sofa and took a drink from his cup as he tried not to think of the disappointment of the previous night. Unsuccessfully. The scene replayed in his mind repeatedly and he couldn't but wonder how he could have gone about the whole think differently. Or whether he shouldn't have tried at all in the first place. He hadn't been able to pick up Frankie's calls or listen to the numerous voicemail messages she'd left. Finally she'd given up, but John Paul was convinced she'd try again as early as courtesy would allow her.
He sighed and wondered whether he should just go back to bed, call in sick, and switch off his phone. He really could use some private time for himself.
Yeah, that's it. He thought to himself as he took the half-empty cup, stood up and walked to the stairs. Putting his left foot on the first tread he was reminded of the strange man outside. How would he manage a flight of stairs? He tried to spin his right leg but realised that the rotation of the leg required a wider radius so he put his left foot as far to the left as possible. Like that, he just about managed to get his right foot onto the next tread. Using his hands to pull himself up, he made it. He then had to move his legs sideways all the way to the right to do the same with his left leg. He struggled, but it was possible.
He didn't know what inspired him to continue his ascension like that, but once upstairs, he'd forgotten all about calling in sick and went straight for the bathroom to shower the sweat away.