While You Were Dreaming. Lola Jaye

limp and greasy dish, wishing she was in her favourite local Thai restaurant instead, with its nicely dressed waitresses and dishes that sounded like islands. They’d eat, then chat for a bit, before each rushing off to start their night shifts: Cara at the bar, Millie off out with her mates (along with a loan from Lena), and Lena to the kids’ telephone helpline where she had worked for the past four years. Funny, the last time the three of them had managed to get together at the Noodle Bar was just before the accident.

      Cara turned her gaze away from her sister lying on that bed, hair in a multicoloured Alice band, and gazed around the hospital room. She hated hospitals, she decided. Luckily she hadn’t had much to do with them over the years, apart from the obligatory visit when one of her friends had a kid. She’d rush in, armed with flowers and a teddy bear (which Ade had bought), counting the minutes until she could leave.

      This time, though, she was going nowhere.

      She’d been in every day for almost two weeks now and was getting used to the sight of people rushing about armed with flowers, their faces painted with worry, fresh-faced junior doctors with spiky hair studying charts, consultants swanning about with an air of self-assured arrogance. She was a part of that now, and not just some bystander who’d happened to tune into a rerun of ER. This was real life. This was her life. For now.

      Thankfully, her sister’s hospital room was away from everything and looked clean at least. But it was bland and lifeless. There was a small window and a tiny side-cabinet on which stood a small vase containing a less-than-fresh arrangement of flowers, lemongrass oil moisturizer for Lena’s hair, Vaseline for her lips, cocoa butter, a plastic comb, and a box of pink and yellow tissues.

      The walls were a beigy neutral colour and a faded picture of a Victorian bloke with a huge nose hung on one of the walls–an attempt to bring some cheeriness into the room.

      ‘We need to stay positive, yes. We have to.’ Ade’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She hated that he didn’t sound convinced. Was she the only one who knew her sister would soon wake up? The doctors were hopeful. Lena was breathing for herself. Things had improved. Okay, stayed the same–but she was hopeful, and she didn’t need anybody telling her different or she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. People needed to stay positive. For Lena. For her…

      Time at the hospital involved sitting by the bed, willing Lena to wake up, and trying to work out how this had all happened. Why her sister was asleep on an alien bed underneath a picture of some bloke they didn’t even know the name of. Why, why, why? She knew it was doing no good asking such questions, but it just felt easier to turn her thoughts into anger and then direct them at a certain person. Justin. Lena’s boyfriend, who was, as far as she knew, the last person to see her awake. She swallowed hard, and tried to push him from her mind. He’d keep.

      Instead, she thought about the bar and when she could put in a shift. This was important for two reasons: 1. She would probably go mad with all the things festering in her mind as she sat by the bed every moment of every day, thinking about the whys and the what-ifs; 2. The barmaid Eliza (Doolittle), currently left in charge with Ade, would probably bring them one step closer to bankruptcy, what with the amount of glasses she got through in a day. So, no, going back to work by no means meant she was giving up on Lena, no matter what that tiny voice in her head kept on saying. She’d do a few shifts, whilst still coming to the hospital every single day to see her sister.

      Cara ran a beautifully manicured hand through her short crop and wondered where on earth her other sister–Millie–had got to. She was meant to be here by now and was late.

      ‘I thought your sister was supposed to be here?’ Nurse Gratten remarked, as if reading her thoughts. Cara ignored her and peered at her watch again, wondering where indeed her irresponsible little sister had got to. Or rather, into whose bed she’d climbed.

      ‘Cara…’ began Ade in a ‘I want to chastise you like a little kid for ignoring the lovely nurse, but we’re in a public place and oh, I should know better than to try that, if I ever want to share a bed with you again’ voice.

      ‘Ade’, Cara interrupted him, ‘this is the third time she’s been late. Doesn’t she get it? Lena’s stuck in here and yet that doesn’t seem like a big enough disaster to force her to get her act together. She’s such a kid!’

      ‘Don’t upset yourself.’

      ‘I can’t get any more upset! We’ve a bar to run and she can’t just swan in when she feels like it!’ she snapped. She was aware she was taking her feelings out on the wrong person, but she also knew Ade could take it. They’d been together for over ten years; he knew her ways. And he knew how much she loved him.

      ‘She’ll be here,’ whispered Ade into her ear, his taut, strong arms enveloping her in a hug. At well over six foot tall, Ade was strong enough to hold onto her, whether she resisted or not. But it was as if she needed to resist in order to fully appreciate what he was offering: love, protection, safety.

      He held onto her before she managed to pull away from him and turn her gaze back to Lena and the situation as a whole.

      Actually, the whole situation was ridiculous. Lena, the most careful person in the whole world–she wrote lists, for Pete’s sake!–tripping over a shoe, indeed (a bloody shoe?)! Falling down the stairs. Ending up in this hospital bed. Hard to believe, yet it was all so very, very real. The doctors had tried everything they could but nothing seemed to be working with Lena. And, as each day passed, she could see the doctor with the bad teeth becoming ever more doubtful as her sister remained in that deep sleep, fed by a nasogastric tube, the odd reflex action reminding family and friends gathered around that she was actually still alive.

      ‘Damn it. Damn all of it. That shoe. Justin, for being a crap boyfriend and not looking out for her! What was he thinking?’ she said hoarsely.

      ‘Let’s all just calm down a bit,’ said Nurse Gratten, as Cara made a mental note to put in a complaint about her as soon as Lena was discharged from this dump of a hospital. About what, she wasn’t yet sure, but someone had to pay for this. Of course she knew she was sounding irrational, but nothing felt rational any more.

      ‘There’s a lot of research that says Lena can hear everything you’re saying, so try and keep it…’ She looked towards them, and perhaps remembering her place, relaxed a bit. ‘Let’s all stay calm, for Lena. She needs us all to be strong.’

      Friends and colleagues of Lena had trickled in to the hospital in the first week to see her, but Cara had found it difficult to converse with the unfamiliar faces. Eventually, they stopped coming. Who could blame them, though? They had their lives to lead. The only people Lena needed were her two sisters and Ade–everyone else (and that included the handful of aunties that resided in Southampton) were mere acquaintances. So nowadays, in Lena’s room, all she could expect was the sound of her own voice as she muttered words of encouragement to her sister or the clicking tap-tap of shoes travelling up and down the corridor outside the room. Whenever she, Ade, and Millie sat together, none of them really knew what to say. No one really wanting to look at Lena because to look at her would make it all seem real.

      Ade rushed off to get her a coffee whilst Nurse Gratten muttered something about seeing to the other patients–and at last Cara was alone with her beloved sister in that room.

      Just the way she preferred it.

      Cara clutched her hand. Lena’s nails were uneven and cracked. A stark contrast to her own manicured fingers. She wasn’t going to cry–no, she’d never do that, but that didn’t stop her fantasizing about what it would be like to just lose herself into a dark, dark place, away from the hospital, where she’d be free to just release a plethora of emotion, and perhaps even let a few tears flow. But she wasn’t sure what that would look like, how it would feel…and she’d learnt a long time ago that showing weakness and emotion was never productive. She had to keep it together. For Lena’s sake and for her own.

      ‘How are you, sis?’ she said. She often spoke to Lena when no one was around. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she figured if Nurse Gratten was right about the research then