MINDSLIP

2 Awakening

Geoff Discovers the World Has Gone Crazy

I awoke with a pressing need to pee.

This wasn't the Waterloo train! Where the hell was I? My vision was out of focus and misty, but it gradually cleared, becoming sharper, as if I was recovering from an anaesthetic.

I was in someone's sitting room. I didn't recognise the room at all. The settee was a floral design. Why was I lying on someone else's sofa? My navy-blue-stockinged feet protruded from my suit trousers which appeared a shade darker than normal. Had the supernova affected my vision?

Odd, how I was resting. A pastel green cushion was wedged between my arm and body as if I'd been leaning upon it or cuddling it.

I tried to sit up but felt strange and dizzy so collapsed into my original position, the soft arm of the sofa supporting my head. I felt a distinct lack of orientation.

'Come on, Geoffrey Arnold, pull yourself together,' I whispered to myself as if I might be overheard, although there seemed to be no one else around.

Had someone slipped me a Mickey Finn? When? Where? Why was I here? Hadn't I just boarded the train?

Two mahogany doors with silver-coloured handles were set into the wall I was facing. The door on the left was closed.

A bookcase, full to overflowing with both hardbacks and paperbacks, hosted two framed portraits. One, the image of a young Japanese graduate girl, in mortarboard and gown, smiling at some anonymous portrait photographer; the other, depicted the head and shoulders of a pleasant-looking young man with woodland behind him. The wall was home to a series of five tall, narrow, Japanese paintings in contemporary frames. Stylish, not tacky or touristy.

Between the doors, a forty-inch television was mounted, with a cabinet beneath housing a Skybox, DVD player and music system.

Low sunlight flickered through trees beyond the bay window. In the bay, stood a circular teak table and four chairs with green seats. An ornate centrepiece glass bowl held small easy-peel tangerines, some black grapes, a pear, and a couple of apples.

I tried to sit up. Once more a disturbing sensation of nausea arose, but this time I tolerated it and swung my feet around so I sat on the edge of the settee. The slight disorientation continued. Where were my shoes?

In fact, where was I? It made no sense for me to be on a strange sofa in my suit. What the hell was going on? I was becoming annoyed with the situation and my inability to cope with it. I hated any loss of personal control.

Beside me a copy of Cosmopolitan graced a stylish glass coffee table. The unopened magazine still wore its polythene mailing sleeve. Closer to me was a Sky TV controller and beside that a pastel mauve, lady's purse. Its zip section was open revealing some banknotes. An iPhone, also mauve, lay beneath it. This must be a woman's home. I was in a strange house belonging to a woman.

My faculties were returning. The sunlight indicated morning and came from one direction. Betelgeuse must have set. The last I remembered was the second flash after boarding my morning train. I ran my hand over my chin and cheek. No stubble. It must still be early in the day for me to be so remarkably clean-shaven. I must have come here on my way to work this morning. But why? What possible reason was there for me being in this woman's home? And what about the train? What had happened between me being on the train and arriving here? Ridiculous! Why had I no memory of it?

'Is anyone there?' My voice sounded strange, as if I'd not spoken for a day and was having trouble getting the words out. There was no answer. Where was she?

Damn it! The need to pee became more insistent.

I stood, experienced dizziness and sat again. I couldn't be inebriated, yet I had all the symptoms of the almightiest hangover.