Afterlife of Alanna Miller

Part 6

SIX

"I know something you won't miss about Melbourne," Jo said as she peered through the window.

The packing tape made a tortured sound as I used it to seal another box. "What? The ever-changing weather?" I scrawled BOOKS across the top of the box with my marker, then decided to label the sides, too.

"No. The commute to uni. Squeezed into a packed train carriage with all those crazed commuters, forcing yourself not to freak out at the sheer number of strangers touching you...I've seen your face on the train. It's like you're trying not to scream."

I smiled wanly. Trying not to stab someone, actually. Five years and my skin still crawled if anyone touched me. Maybe I should have become a nun, not a doctor. No, I wouldn’t be allowed to carry a knife everywhere if I were a nun. Plus, there was the matter of having killed people..."I'll be able to walk to work now. I told you that apartment next to the hospital was a good investment."

She stuck her tongue out. "I'm an accountant, not an investment adviser. But I still think you should've rented it out this year, before you moved in. Six months' rent is a lot of money to throw away..."

Jo had wanted to be a vet, but she hadn't scored high enough in her final exams to get into the course, so she chose accounting instead. Who'd have guessed she could be more passionate about numbers than she was about puppies and kittens?

It wasn't about the money. It was about having my own space that no one else had lived in or done things in. A place without a past so I could create my own future there. Of course, I picked Perth. After so much time away, I wanted to go home. With a new name, a new career and a whole new life...but it was home. Someone else's afterlife...haunting the place where I'd nearly died. It was fitting. Every time I looked at St Elsie's Hospital next door, I'd remember my time there as a patient and hopefully have more sympathy for my patients. Or go to pieces and be admitted to the psychiatric ward.

No, I told myself. I was prepared to go back and face any demons that I hadn't slaughtered in the past. Given they were probably on their last legs after their last encounter with me, it'd be an act of mercy to put them out of their misery. Euthanasia, even, though that wasn't legal in Western Australia.

A blurry hand waved before my eyes. "Hello? Are you even listening to me?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, Jo. I should have been."

"I hope you introduce me to him soon, because any man who can make you daydream that deeply has to be drool-worthy. I want to know his name, his bank balance and how many times in a night."

"How many...?" My eyes widened as her hands eloquently described fast-paced s*x. "None, Jo. If I'd slept with a man, I'd have told you."

She sighed: the deep sort that said her heart ached for me. "It's been five years. No one can go that long without wanting s*x. I know you got hurt, but you said you'd slept with that sleazy guy in Perth, which means you're hardly afraid of intimacy if you let him touch you. Now, I know you're not pining away for him, so why haven't you even flirted with anyone else?"

Because I didn't want anyone to touch me. And when the man who'd saved your life several times over, risked his own life and his sanity, plus killed for you and stayed at your side until you recovered, thought he wasn't good enough for you, you begin to believe that no one will be. Why would I settle for a one-night stand with someone who wouldn't kill for me?

Six years ago, I'd have told Jo all of this, but now I couldn't. After what happened, some stories were best left untold. And I'm not sure she'd look at me the same way if she knew about the people I'd killed, Even if they did deserve it.

"I haven't met the right one," I replied curtly. "I'm looking for a hero who's not just Prince Charming."

Jo grinned. "A knight in shining armour with awe-inspiring sword skills?" Her hands described the size and nature of his sword.

"A knight, perhaps, but with dented armour and maybe scorch marks up the side, to show he's taken on an army and he'd walk through fire for me. A sword with a few nicks in it, so I know it's not just for show. And later, when we're alone, he'd take it all off and he'd make me feel like I was his whole world."

She burst out laughing. "So, you're after Sir Perfect with experience? Men like that don't exist. You might get some of it, but not everything. Just as long as you don't settle for some sleazy bastard who fools you into thinking he's perfect, I guess."

Not perfect. Just...a man who'd do what Nathan had for me. And more. A man who wouldn’t leave me to pursue a pipe dream. Yeah, a man who didn't exist.

I heard the buzzing of the postman's motorbike and glanced out the window. He was just leaving our mailboxes. I jumped to my feet, swiping a hand across my face to hide the tears I hadn't managed to stop. "I'll go empty the letterbox. Be right back."

I kept my eyes on the path beneath my feet, desperately trying to control my streaming eyes. Five years was enough to know a man didn't want me. It's not like he'd have trouble finding me – his agency had hidden me, after all. And they hunted terrorists, for God's sake. They'd track me down in a day.

In between the inevitable junk mail, there was one official-looking letter addressed to me. I tore it open. Well, speak of the devil. It wasn't from Nathan, but it was from ASIO.

I set the letter aside to look at later, when Jo had left. I didn't want to have to explain more than she could handle.

"So why are you leaving for Sydney a week early? What are you going to do until the concert?" Jo asked, stacking up her finished boxes. They were taller than me.

I shrugged. "Does it matter? Go to Taronga Zoo a few times. Do all the meet-the-animals experiences, freak out at the emus walking around that are taller than I am, and check out the harbour views when I get tired of walking. Eat seafood at that restaurant in Darling Harbour we went to last time. I don't know. Just...be a tourist on holiday, I guess. For the first time in a while."

She pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the dining table. "Promise me one thing." She paused for a response, but I wasn't doing it until I had more details. "Promise me you’ll go to a pub at least once and buy a drink. Give yourself a chance to meet people."

I laughed and shook my head. "Hell no. After the lab on date r**e drugs in pharmacology, I'm not sure I'll ever drink in a pub again. So many of them are odourless and tasteless and colourless and virtually undetectable. Some of them don’t even show up in your blood afterwards. And so many of them to remember. One was blue, one tasted like soap or salt, one turned a drink cloudy... It's enough to make me drink from a hip flask through sheer paranoia!"

She shrugged. "Fine. Don't then. But you will have a glass of champagne with me in the VIP lounge at the Opera House before the concert. I won't let you get out of that."

I smiled. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it. I've never been to a concert at the Sydney Opera House and it's meant to be spectacular."

"Don't you wish you'd let the removalists pack for you? It feels like we've been doing this forever, but only half your house is packed up," she moaned, looking around.

I grabbed the stack of newspaper on the dining table and dumped it on the kitchen counter. "Back to work, then. I'll wrap the glasses if you get the rest of my books, then we can go out for dinner."

"Deal."