Never before had the young woman been allowed to see the family she'd left behind. All she wanted was to let them know she was safe and being well cared for. Today was going to be her first contact. She walked down the aisle of the near empty church...
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The pub door opened and slammed heavily against the wall.
"Take it easy there pal!" came the barman's voice from inside the pub.
James shuffled onto the street, holding the wall for balance. He looked around, forgetting where he was for a moment. Then, remembering, he turned to his right and began to stagger up the street in the direction of the church. James knew his way home from the church, having made that walk many times before. Even though he was experiencing double vision due to his recent heavy drinking session, he could just make out the street corner next to the church. There, partially hidden by the dark church building, he could make out the front of a bus as it waited at traffic lights. The bus was indicating left with a flashing yellow light, and so was about to turn onto this street. Rising in anger again, James wondered if that was the same bus driver that had nearly knocked him over earlier that night.
James walked a little further on, his drunken mind racing, then he stopped abruptly. Unsure on his feet, he slowly turned to his left to face the road. He took the few steps towards the kerb edge, then stopped. It was very late at night, the road was clear. James just waited.
The faint green light of the traffic light illuminated the side of the bus. The bus's engine growled and it set off, turning left onto the street and clipping the kerb of the pavement corner with its rear wheel. James watched dispassionately as the bus picked up speed, changing up the gears as it began to thunder towards him. When the bus, now travelling over 30 miles per hour, was only ten yards or so away from where he was standing, James stepped out onto the road in front of it.
The bus screeched to a halt. The portly bus driver got out of the bus and ran over to where James lay.
"Did I hit him? I never heard a bang," said the driver anxiously.
"You didn't hit him," a young woman replied in a croaky voice.
"That was a close thing!" said the driver. "I saw you grab his arm. Is he with you?"
"Yes," said the woman quietly.
"Are you OK dear?" said the bus driver. He'd seen this girl around here before, walking the street, always looking terrible. But now she was clutching her stomach in obvious pain.
"I'm fine, thank you," said the girl in a strained voice, clearly trying to mask her pain. "Please, help me get him up."
The driver and the young woman helped James to his feet. A young waitress had come out of the nearby café when she'd heard the bus braking hard.
"Here, bring him in here," said the waitress. "We'll give him some coffee." Turning to James, the waitress added, "Is there someone we can call mister?"
James, with one arm over the bus driver's shoulder for support, just shook his head drunkenly.
"Sorry Abi, you're not allowed in here," said the waitress, holding up her hand to the girl walking alongside James.
"It's OK," said the driver, "She's the hero of the hour. She stopped him hitting my bus."
The waitress hesitantly lowered her hand and nodded to the girl. The waitress watched in mild disgust as the wretched girl tripped painfully over the step into the café, and stood by as she struggled back onto her feet.
There were very few people in the café at this late hour. The bus driver sat James down at a table. The girl took a seat opposite James.
"I gotta head off now pal," said the driver, patting James on the shoulder. "You drink up a few coffees and get your head straight."
The waitress put a black coffee in front of James, ignoring the girl seated in front of him. 'The Beatles' song Here, There and Everywhere began to play on the radio.
"Why did you try to walk in front of that bus?" said the girl in a soft American accent, forcing her words.
James gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.
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The girl continued, "You know, life is a wonderful gift. You are so lucky to be alive."
"What would you know?" muttered James under his breath.
"I'm living now aren't I?" said the girl, almost defensively.
"What's the point?" said James flatly.
"I know your agony," said the girl, "More than you know, I know it. But hold onto this thought. As terrible and hopeless as life may seem to you now, in a year or so this could change. These feelings of despair may be all but a memory. Maybe. But if you kill yourself now you are killing that hope." Slurring her words now, the girl added, "And if you can't b...believe that, well, stick around for the people that love you. There are people you m...may not even know who love y...you."
James felt the Formica table shake a little, which roused him from his introversion. He looked up to see the girl shaking, apparently having a fit.
"Are you all right? Waitress!" shouted James.
"Hold on Abi!" yelled the waitress, picking up the phone and dialling 999.
James reached across the table and took the girl's thin left hand, holding it tight. The girl pressed his hand weakly in reply.
"Hold on dear, help's on its way," said James softly. "Just hold on sweetheart."
James felt the girl stop shaking and her grip relax.
Another hand, unseen by James and the waitress, reached for the girl's right hand. Then, a spirit stepped out of the girl's body. It was Sarah.
Sarah sat down again, this time by James's side, and gently waved goodbye to the beautiful woman with the soft brown eyes and long brown hair.
