Hannah turned to look at him. Her eyes were wide and her face was panic-stricken.
“Who the fuck are-” Before she finished the sentence he inhabited her and in a flash he was looking back at Hao who stood in the doorway, stunned, and he could feel the tears sting his eyes and a heart thumping in his chest.
His mind was racing and he stood and rushed towards Hao, who stood frozen to the spot, looking around him, down at himself, reaching a hand up to his cheek and wincing at its touch. He turned him by the shoulder and ushered him out of the apartment onto the lobby landing.
“You have to go,” he said, looking him in the eye. Hao’s lips moved but he was silent and very cold and why was he in a suit he did not recognise, and why was his lip crusted with dried blood and who was this woman telling him to go?
“Go home, Hao.”
Hao checked the time on his watch and was startled to see what was on his wrist and once again stared at the young slim woman with long brown hair and cool blue eyes who was imploring him to leave, pushing him towards the staircase, and he gripped the handrail and made his way down. At the moment the staircase turned a corner she called out to him again, and this time her voice was softer.
“Hao…Mr Zhang.”
He looked up at her, mouth slightly open, no idea how far home was from here.
She continued: “I’m sorry, Mr Zhang. I really am.” Her lips tightened and shook a little and a tear ran over the crest of her cheek, and he looked at her without a word and continued down the stairs out of sight.
He looked back at the apartment as the block door on the floor below clicked open and then gently closed and he wiped his eyes. He went inside and shut the door behind him and considered what to do for a few moments before hooking his arms beneath the body’s shoulders and dragging him onto the sofa. He arranged his own body into a seated position as if he were displaying a mannequin in a shop window and placed the television remote control into his hand. There was a day’s growth of stubble on his face and a patch of red skin on his forehead where it had been pressed against the carpet for most of the day and on his lips were white flecks of dried saliva.
He switched the television on and walked into the kitchen and stood behind the worktop and switched the kettle on and placed a mug onto the countertop and surveyed the scene before him like a director ensuring all is in order before calling action.
Reinhabited, Daniel grimaced at how stiff his limbs were, his joints creaking into life, and his hip was sore where the bone lay just beneath the skin. He watched as Hannah looked around and then up at him, puzzled.
“You were just-” she said, her voice trailing off.
Daniel took control. “Just what?”
Her brown eyes darted around the room. “You were on the floor, unconscious.”
“Unconscious?”
“Yes! You were lying just over there, and I was trying to wake you up.”
Daniel said nothing and let the silence hang. The kettle boiled and clicked off and Hannah looked at it and then instinctively filled the mug.
“I’ve not been unconscious, I’ve been sitting here the whole time,” said Daniel, speaking calmly. “And you’ve still not told me why you came over.”
She looked at him and he could see her let go of the confusion and begin to focus. “I came over because nobody had heard from you in hours. Alex rang me. He was really worried.”
At the mention of Alex’s name Daniel felt his face darken, and he made a conscious effort to remain nonchalant. “I had a migraine, but I’m feeling much better now.” He was in no mood to talk and the atmosphere was awkward. He just wanted to be alone.
“Okay, well...that’s good.” She laid the mug down on the coffee table and stood. Daniel looked at the television screen, where a game show host grinned a dazzling white smile at the camera and introduced the contestants, and after a few seconds Hannah said, “I’d better be off,” and she pulled on her coat and closed the door behind her and as soon as she did so Daniel exhaled so much he thought he might deflate and sat for a while with his head between his knees and worried for Hao Zhang and tried to convince himself that everything would be alright.
Why do I write? You are brilliant, your pacing, your turn of phrase. Bravo!