Alfie

Sorry.

Um, where was I?

Oh yeah.

The girl on the gurney was gone from my mind completely by the time my mother woke me the next morning.

I was fully dressed under the covers, and I was not ready to be accosted when she burst in and immediately started going on about how long my shift had been.

It was not an ideal living situation, much as I loved my mum, and the weird thing was she hadn't talked about it at all, really, until that morning, the day after I saw the girl on the gurney died.

I've wondered about that since, you know.

Like, it feels like a weird cosmic coincidence.

Casper says it probably wasn't a coincidence, despite how many times I've told him that the girl on the gurney was no worse than any of the other patients that died that night, apart from how it affected Hayley, but he doesn't believe me.

It's bloody survivorship bias, that's what it is.

Or hindsight, making connections it wouldn't have been possible to make at all at the time, but which feel really obvious when you look back.

Only it's not obvious, it's just convenient.

That's just how it is with Casper, though.

Sorry, I'm getting off track again.

My mother was standing at the kitchen sink, holding her cup of tea, and when I walked in she said, you look awful, even though she hadn't even turned around.

I told her thanks and set about making some breakfast.

One of my sisters had clearly stolen my expensive imported golden grahams because there were only a few stale pieces left at the bottom of the box.

I padded them out with cornflakes and was mid-retrieve of a spoon from the dishwasher when my mum said, have you thought any more about moving out?

I froze in place like a particularly shit street performer.

I looked at my mother with a raised eyebrow.