Oxygen (Catfish And The Bottlemen/1975)

Katie

When I awoke it was to a pain in my ribs and a dull ache which started in my lower back but spread like nuclear zones on a map, from my spine to my finger tips.

I'd drifted off in the bath some time in the early hours and now I'd awoken one or two hours later as dawns milky mildewy light filtered through the translucent leaves of a dehydrated climber plant on the other side of the window, to bath me and the off white tiles, the puddles on the floor, in a strange, almost alien kind of sunrise.

It hurt to walk and when I remembered why I giggled a little, still a little intoxicated as I hovered and hesitated at the top of the stairs, making my way down slow and steady.

Someone had left the stereo on and I recognised the song that was playing quietly, the only thing lacing this loose reality together.

"Where are your friends tonight? Where are your friends tonight?"

The music drifting through from the kitchen like the specs of dust caught by the scarce sunlight, seemed to shed light on my memory of the night before in a similar way. Strange scenes I only half recognised would catch the light for a moment before fading away when I tried to shift them into focus.

"Where are your friends tonight? Where are your friends tonight?"

Those had been the last words I'd heard last night, before my head lolled against the side of the bath and my eyes had grown too heavy to move, my legs had followed, my hands too, until I'd been left lying there, unconscious, that song still fizzing away on the back of my tongue.

The morning after I was convinced that without the radio and its tinny vibrations our little house would fall apart.

We'd really made a mess of the place I thought as I stepped over Jazz's limp body. His eyes were closed and he had squirty cream or shaving foam for eyebrows, I wondered whether that had been the work of Saffy and I, or whether perhaps it had been Fliss who had the tendency to stray and work alone, to act out at the end of the night, one last effort at lighting the room up.

I knelt down beside him, cradling a fresh cup of tea to my chest, I'd made one for him too just in case he woke up, but I could see now that there was very little chance of that. So I searched the house for my phone and found it in a box of rice crispies in the kitchen and then I used the last of my battery to call Ben.

"Mornin," he mumbled a little groggy, about as awake and healthy as I sounded.

"Hi," it was the first time I'd spoken that morning and my voice came out choked, low and scratched up. I giggled a little and recognised a smile in his reply.

"You sound healthy," he teased and I wanted to tease him back but he actually did, sound healthy that is.

"I think I fell down the stairs or somethin," I yawned wandering out onto the patio for a nicotine breakfast. I heard him chuckle, pictured him roll his eyes and then I recognised the way he tried to hide his concern when he asked if I was alright. "Yeah, at least I think so, ive not looked in the mirror yet,"

He laughed properly then and I found myself giggling along, feeling a little silly.

"Well," he sighed, "I'm sure even with the biggest, purplest bruise covering your whole face, you'll still be the most beautiful girl on the planet," he chuckled trying to wind me up. I smiled along all the same.

"Don't be a dick," I grinned as he laughed a little louder.

"Hey that was nice, I was being nice,!"

"Hmm, sure," I smirked struggling to place a cigarette between my lips and light it one handed. It took me a moment or two of concentration so I missed the first half of his sentence, only hearing the second, but with my deep inhale, deep exhale, cross eyed and focusing on the glow of my roll up as it smouldered somewhere near my nose, the second half of his sentence surprised me.