The Poppy Field

Chapter 12

He didn't answer the first time. Or the second. Or the third or fourth times for that matter. But on the fifth time he picked up and it took me less than ten seconds before I burst into tears all over again, sobbing down the phone as I tried to explain.

'Poppy? What's going on?' He asked. I convinced myself that he sounded concerned as if nothing had happened between us, but I knew that it wasn't really true. 'Are you alright?'

'No,' I whimpered down the phone, hugging my knees to my chest. He had just finished work, and although I could hear in his voice that he was tired, he told me he was on his way and would be there in fifteen minutes. I waited and waited, each minute dragging on for what felt like hours, until I finally heard the knock at the door that told me he was here. I stood up, legs shaking as I walked towards the door. I steadied myself against the wall and opened the door.

'What happened?' He asked, although he was still managing to keep his distance from me as I sat down on the couch. He stayed in the doorway, as far away from me as he could be without actually leaving the room. I regretted calling him instantly. I needed comfort and closeness, something that there clearly wasn't between us. I felt even worse than I had before and I wished that he hadn't bothered coming over. I didn't like being alone but it felt better than this.

'Do you know anything that happened that night?' I asked him, getting straight to the point. If he knew anything that would put my mind at ease then I wanted to hear it as soon as possible. 'Do you know anything about the crash? Anything at all?' I asked, practically begging for answers.

'No. Why?' He replied bluntly. Taking a small step into the room and closing the door behind him. He moved slightly, as if to take a step back towards the door, but he never did.

'Because... Because... I think the crash was my fault and the police were just here and they told me that a girl... a girl died because of the crash and... and... I killed her.' I managed to stutter out between sobs. When he didn't reply I looked up at him.

I'd thought that I hated nothing more than the degrading look of pity that people would give me whenever I told them about the crash. But I'd been mistaken. I would have given anything to see a concerned and pitying expression on Ben's face as he tried to comfort me and tell me that everything would be alright. That the crash hadn't been my fault.

Instead he looked angry, a stone cold face that seemed to glare through me.

'I don't know what to do.' I told him, when he still didn't say a word.

'The police said that it was an accident when you were brought to the hospital.' He said. It wasn't particularly comforting, but it made me feel slightly better.

'I know,' I replied. 'But when they were questioning me about the accident, and when they told me that a girl had been killed, it seemed as if they were accusing me. It was as if they knew something that I didn't.' I muttered, more to myself than him. 'It's all my fault.' I began to cry again. 'I wish I'd never gone out that night.' I looked away from him, looking out of the window to distract myself, intently focusing on the cars that were driving in the street below, their lights that lit up the darkness. I looked up when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. He had taken another step towards me, but it still felt as if he was miles away. I wished that he'd just hold me tightly and tell me that I was just being silly. But he didn't.

'Can I ask you something?' I asked, wiping away my tears and looking up at him, he was yet to properly meet my gaze since he'd arrived. His eyes darting around the room, landing on anything they possibly could so that he didn't have to look directly at me. He nodded his head slightly and I took that as a signal to continue. 'Why did you leave that night?' I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. I wasn't afraid that I was embarrassing myself, or him. I just had to know the answer to at least one of the thousands of unanswered questions that flooded my head. I felt as if it was going to explode any day now. I sat up slightly as I waited for his response.

'I... I...' He stuttered, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back off his forehead. He finally sat down, perching down on the edge of the couch. So close to the edge that I was certain he would fall. It wasn't difficult to tell that he was trying to rack his brain and think of some kind of excuse. I knew that whatever words he would say next would be a lie, but maybe I could pretend that it was the truth. For just a little while. It would make me feel better.

'We're not allowed to date patients,' he replied after a pause.

'But I'm not a patient,' I replied.

'But you were,' he said, getting defensive.

'Why does that matter?' I replied. 'It didn't seem to matter before. We had lunch together everyday for weeks and you asked me out to dinner. It didn't seem to matter then. But then we kissed and you just left. What changed?' I asked.

'Well, I... I...' He began, clearly not able to think of a better excuse.

'Why did you just leave like that?' I demanded, starting to get angry as I relived that night. How abandoned I'd felt after he left. 'How could it go from us laughing and joking, to you just running away like that? What the hell is going on with yo...' He cut me off, his lips crashing against mine, just as desperate as they'd felt the week before. Nothing had changed in that moment.

'You can't just keep doing that,' I said, pulling away and pushing him off me. Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I knew that I couldn't deal with him just kissing me whenever he felt like it and running away from me whenever it got too much. But I just wanted to kiss him and hold him and... 'Are you going to leave again?' I asked, my voice sounded weak and pathetic and I hated him for doing that to me, but I felt weak and pathetic and I didn't want to be alone for a second longer. But this time I needed to know that he wasn't going to just run away again.

'No. I'm not going to leave.' He whispered, looking properly into my eyes for the first time since he'd arrived tonight. I'd never seen him look so emotionally exposed. I knew that this time he wasn't lying and my heart began to race as he leant in to kiss me again, frantic as if we only had a short amount of time. My hands fumbled for his shirt, undoing the buttons as fast as I could as I continued to kiss him. He pulled away from the kiss, for just a second, as he took of his shirt and pulled off mine. I lay back down onto the sofa, the leather feeling cold against my shirtless back. I shivered both from the cold and the thrill as he lay on top of me, propped up by his elbows as we kissed. The urgency was still there but there was now a tenderness that hadn't been there before.

'Are you sure you want to do this?' I asked, really trying to make sure that he wouldn't just up and leave halfway through, leaving me completely alone feeling worse than ever.

'I'm sure,' he replied as he took my hand and I led him to the bedroom.

I lay awake an hour or so after. Unable to sleep, my head against his chest, my fingers gently running up and down his stomach. There was something so comforting about human contact, no matter how small and insignificant the gesture may have been. His body twitched slightly.

'What's up?' He asked as his eyes fluttered open. I hadn't realised that he was awake too and quickly pulled my fingers away, placing my hands against my own stomach.

'I just can't sleep.' I replied as I stared at the ceiling. I felt the bed shift as he propped himself up on one elbow and turned to face me. I rolled onto my side to look at him and could just about make out his face in the darkness. His eyes shone as they caught the light coming from outside the window. 'I can't stop thinking about it,' I admitted.

'It will drive you crazy if you think about it too much,' he responded. I waited for him to comfort me. To tell me that it wasn't my fault, but he never said it, choosing to let the silence take over. I wasn't sure whether he thought it was my fault or not.

'But it has to be somebody's fault,' I responded.

'No it doesn't, he replied calmly, taking a deep breath that caused his stomach to rise and then fall. The way he said it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact rather than me. 'You should try and get some sleep.' He said before rolling onto his other side, with his back to me. There was only a few inches between us, but it felt like miles. I closed my eyes again but I knew that this would be another sleepless night.