The Lost Hours

The sound of rain outside was soothing. It reminded him of a time when he had lived in a house, safe and warm inside, while rain streamed down, lashing the roof. Kurt had his arms wrapped around Lynda, his current girlfriend with whom he’d begun an affair. She was a married woman, his English literature lecturer at University. She lived not far away in Artarmon so it was only a quick train ride from his Chatswood apartment and she’d be back home with her husband, Jonathan Jones. Kurt had been seeing her for a few weeks and this was the first time they had made love in his apartment. It had been a long day today and Kurt wanted to stay in bed but he knew Lynda had to leave soon. It was just after eleven o’clock but the trains would still be running so she had no need to panic, as she was apt to do when they’d stayed in a room for more than a couple of hours at an inner-city hotel. Lynda Jones had asked Kurt to stay behind one day to talk about his story in the creative writing class. She said she was impressed with his imagination but explained that he could use help developing descriptive passages. They talked and she laughed at a joke he made and she placed her hand on his arm as she continued laughing. He moved closer and kissed her. She returned his kiss and they soon adjourned to a nearby room which was private where they had urgent sex, his trousers lying on the floor with her skirt and panties keeping them company. That 5had been the first occasion, just five weeks prior, when they’d been intimate. As Kurt held her close, he thought back to that first encounter and relived it in his mind. He’d never been so turned on. “I have to go,” she said suddenly, wriggling out of his grasp. “I’ll walk you to the station,” Kurt said. “No need,” she replied. “I’m coming. Can’t have you assaulted so late at night. “It’ll make you late for class tomorrow.” “Very funny.” As Kurt stood next to Lynda whose long blonde hair was tangled, he ran his fingers through it to straighten the strands a little. She moved away and took a brush out of her handbag and gave her hair a proper treatment. He liked that she was comfortable standing there naked in front of him, doing what she could to tidy up. Her skin was extremely white, not a patch of tan anywhere, and flawless. If only she were single, he thought. But he put that thought aside as he looked for his clothes.  They dressed and took the elevator down to the lobby of the high-rise block of apartments. They didn’t speak on the way down. He wondered whether she was worried about what her husband might say when she arrived home late. Would she claim her delay had been 6a staff gathering at the pub or marking papers? A staff meeting wouldn’t be plausible as Mr Jones would realise meetings would be finished well before seven o’clock. Outside the drizzle was cooling to the skin and pleasant enough, Kurt thought. The couple walked along the footpath towards Help Street. There were few people about and the five minute walk to the station would wake him up but he didn’t care. He liked Lynda and he wanted to see more of her. He gazed up at the tall buildings, the tops obscured by a sort of grey mist. When they got close to the corner, Lynda searched for something in her handbag. *** “What the fuck?” said Fetu. He heard a sound in the distance. “The cops, shit. Step on it.” Fetu floored the Corolla Ascent Sports Hatch down the Pacific Highway. He heard the sirens and freaked. They had just raided a convenience store and had come away with a few hundred dollars and six packets of potato crisps. Their get-away driver had vanished and they were left with pushing a middle-aged woman from her Corolla as she opened the door to get in. “Damn that Nathan, where the hell did he get to?” said Fetu. “Can’t rely on these white boys,” responded Alonzo who was looking back to see whether the police were visible, the high-pitched sound getting closer.7“He’s only eighteen and it’s his first time,” said Fetu who’d been in prison before and was immune to trouble. He wondered why Alonzo had suggested trying the North Shore. They were from the South West and this was alien territory. “How did the cops get here so fast?” said Alonzo who was clearly distressed, still surveying the road out the rear window. “Maybe some alarm at the store,” said Fetu who nearly hit a car coming out of a side street. He ran the red lights and powered the car along the two lane highway. The rain was making the road slippery. “Get off the main road,” Alonzo shouted when he saw the police car rounding a corner. Fetu swerved and turned into a road somewhere in Chatswood. When he saw the couple crossing the street, he was too late. He braked hard on the wet bitumen but the car spun out of control and slid sideways and finally slammed into them. *** Kurt and Lynda reached the crossing just as Lynda found her Opal pass. Rain was getting heavier and Kurt cursed himself for not been sensible enough to bring an umbrella. “How am I going to explain getting so wet?” said Lynda. “Will your husband be up this time of night?” Kurt asked, taking Lynda’s hand.8Lynda pushed him away playfully, about to follow up with a sarcastic reply when she was struck by a vehicle and in the process she bounced into Kurt who was tossed clear but when he fell he hit his head on the road. It was 11:20 p.m. *** At 5:20 a.m. Kurt woke with a blinding headache. He opened his eyes slowly. It was bright. The surroundings were foreign and it took a moment for him to grasp that he was in hospital. A few minutes later a nurse came into the ward. “You’re awake, that’s good. How do you feel?” “Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” Kurt said peering at the woman who appeared to be in her fifties. She wore glasses and seemed quite efficient as she looked at various bits of monitoring equipment. “Things are looking up, young man.” She then wrapped a band around his arm and checked his blood pressure. “What happened? Why am I here?” Kurt asked, looking around as he started to become fully aware of his predicament. Was his head going to explode? “Please relax. You’re in good hands.” “How’s Lynda?” Kurt asked now recalling being hit by her flying body while crossing a street.9“Who’s Lynda?” asked the nurse as she carried on with her duties. “Blood pressure’s within the normal range, but at the higher end.” “I was with a woman when I was knocked down.” “I’ll get a doctor to pop in to talk to you. Just let me finish this.” The nurse carried on with her work and noted her findings in black pen on a chart. “I’ve added more pain killers into your IV catheter. It should help the headaches. Just lie back and relax.” Kurt closed his eyes. He had to get over the head pain. It was becoming unbearable. After some time he fell asleep and when he awoke, his head seemed much less stressed. Perhaps it might not explode, he thought. On opening his eyes, another person, a male, was inspecting his chart. “Hello Mr Newman, I’m Doctor Harrison. May I call you Kurt?” “Sure,” said Kurt. “Kurt, you’ve suffered concussion. You’ve been unconscious for six hours, if the estimate of time when you were hit is correct, but you seem to be recovering well other than for some head trauma.” “What happened?” “Apparently you were involved in a car accident. Hit by a vehicle while crossing a road.” “How’s Lynda?” Kurt asked.10Dr Harrison grimaced, then asked, “Was she your friend?” “Yes.” “I’m sorry but she didn’t make it.” “My God, that’s… damn, I don’t know what to say?” Kurt couldn’t believe it. Lynda was dead. How could this have happened? An accident. There was no traffic, no cars when they were about to cross. “Just take it easy Kurt. You’re very lucky. You survived an incredible freak accident but if you begin to fret, your recovery may not continue as well as it has, so far.” “How long will I be in here?” “Hard to say. I’ll send the nurse back in. She’ll explain the protocol.” The nurse returned and asked for his next of kin details. She explained that he’d been brought into Emergency with keys and a slim wallet with cash and a single credit card. No phone had been located on his person. She looked at him, “Mr Newman, did you hear?” “Sorry, I can’t believe Lynda died,” Kurt said. He closed his eyes, hoping it was all a dream. But it wasn’t and when he opened them again the nurse was still present, waiting for a response. “Was she your wife?”11“No, no. I’m only twenty. I’m not married.” He sighted the nurse’s name-tag. “Gwen, could I have something to drink please. I’m very thirsty.” Gwen smiled. “Of course. When I return perhaps you could give me some more details about yourself and the lady you were with. We’re short staffed otherwise a doctor would discuss what injuries were sustained by the woman.” “The doctor said she didn’t make it,” said Kurt, confused. “He will tell you more when he can,” she replied. She wandered off. Kurt wanted to crawl away and die, like a wounded animal. Why had the accident taken her life and not his? How would Jonathan Jones react when he learned his wife was not at the university working late? It was all so sordid. If only he could have another chance. If only, if only…there was no point in wishing. Wishes don’t come true. Life was unforgiving. This was a lesson he would never forget. Not the accident, there was no way accidents could be prevented from happening. Whatever hit them had come out of left field. But what he could prevent was being so irresponsible, so impulsive, so careless. He should have taken control and not fooled about in the middle of a nearly deserted public road. He should have watched out for Lynda until she was safely in the station. He began to weep. His life would not be the same again. Kurt was discharged a few days later