Cracks by Caroline Green Page A

panting sounds are coming from my own mouth but they sound
really far away too.
    ‘Cal? Cal, are you OK?’
    That bloke who smiled is kneeling in front of me. His hand is on my arm and I shrug it off like it burns. Everything is too loud, too bright. I want to go back. I don’t want to be here. I
want to climb back into my old life with Mum and yes, even Des and Ryan. My chest hurts. The edges of everything are shadowy but little fireworks are going off too. Sharp pins and needles jab my
fingers and my hands are going numb now. Can’t seem to drag breaths in and out. Dizzy. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe! I’m going to die . . .
    ‘Take this, quickly. Come on, mate, you’re OK.’
    Tom’s holding a paper bag. He tells me to put it over my nose and mouth. I take it with trembling hands and do what he says, too scared to care about how stupid I look.
    ‘That’s it, just breathe slowly. In . . . and out . . . in . . . and out.’
    Somehow, after a few minutes I feel better. The clattering inside my chest slows down and the world comes into proper focus. I can breathe properly again.
    I mumble my thanks.
    ‘No problem,’ he says gently. ‘Felt like you couldn’t breathe? Like you were going to die, right?’
    I nod, frowning. How did he know?
    He smiles. ‘It was just a panic attack. A bit too much carbon dioxide flooding through your body, that’s all. Breathing into the bag redresses the balance. You’re OK now.
It’s no wonder you’re feeling a bit strange. I don’t know how anyone could handle what you’ve had to deal with in the last few days without feeling a bit wobbly.’
    I hand him the crumpled, damp paper bag. I don’t really know what to say so I say nothing.
    Nathan comes striding into the room then, still dabbing at his nose with a balled up tissue.
    ‘What’s going on?’ he says sharply.
    Tom looks up. ‘Nothing,’ he says easily, getting to his feet. ‘Everything’s fine, Nathan. How’s the nose?’ His face is expressionless but as his eyes meet
mine I think something mischievous twinkles in them.
    ‘It’s really quite uncomfortable, since you ask,’ says Nathan stiffly and starts looking in one of the kitchen cupboards.
    Tom turns to me and pretends to rub his fists into his eyes like a toddler. He makes a silly face and mouths ‘boo-hoo’ silently.
    A laugh surges up inside, surprising me. Beardy looks up and I turn it into a cough.
    Tom checks his watch. ‘Right, it’s just gone six,’ he says, all business-like now. ‘We’ll stay here for a few hours until we hear everything’s gone to plan
and then get on the road. Anything good in there?’ he says, turning his attention to Nathan who is still rummaging through the cupboards with a miserable expression.
    ‘No,’ he says bluntly.
    Tom goes over and has a look. ‘Oh I wouldn’t say that.’ He turns to me with a grin. ‘You, my friend, are in for a treat. It’s time for Tom’s baked bean and
tuna hotpot.’ He rubs his hands together. ‘Trust me, it’s not an experience you’ll forget in a hurry.’
    I smile, despite myself. He’s nice. Funny. And he was kind to me back there when I was freaking out all over the place.
    But I still don’t know if I can really trust him.
    I don’t want to be around other people at the moment. ‘Is there a bathroom?’ I ask, getting up.
    Nathan is leaning against the kitchen surface, texting. He ignores me.
    ‘First on the left upstairs,’ says Tom, tipping a can of something unidentifiable into a saucepan.
    I start to walk out of the room.
    ‘Cal?’ Tom calls. He’s frowning.
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘You OK?’
    I nod once and leave the room.
    But I’m not OK.
    I’m about as far from OK as it’s possible to be.
    I get into the bathroom and lock the door. I look in the mirror on the cabinet, just as I did a couple of days ago in the Facility. My world has been blown apart all over again since then. Will
it ever be normal? Has it ever been normal? I don’t want to