Kidney Theft — a short story for English reading and speaking

The first thing I noticed was the cold.

Not a little cold. Freezing.

Which was strange because yesterday had been one of the hottest days of the year.

So why was I so bloody cold?

Maybe I'd left the air-con on. I'd done that before. Come home drunk, switch it on, take my clothes off and collapse on the bed.

Then wake up shivering.

Not clever.

But this was different.

This was ice cold.

I shifted my weight and felt something hard moving beneath me. Little pieces of something knocking against my skin.

I opened my eyes.

Bathroom.

What was I doing in here?

I looked down.

I was in the bath.

Well, that was new.

I'd woken up in some strange places over the years. The small patch of grass outside my block of flats was a favourite.

Mrs McQuaid had something to say about that.

She'd once pushed a note under my door.

FOR THE ATTENTION OF FLAT 204.

She couldn't even bring herself to use my name.

Then followed a detailed account of the horror she'd experienced on finding me unconscious on the grass at seven in the morning.

FOR ALL THE NEIGHBOURS TO SEE.

I doubt anyone else cared.

Just Mrs McQuaid.

I'd passed out in pubs. In the back of taxis. On night buses.

And plenty of times on my sofa, the living-room floor or my bed.

But never in the bath.

This was definitely a first.

I raised my head.

The bath was half full of water.

And ice.

Dozens of ice cubes floated around me.

I stared at them.

What the hell?

Then I felt the pain.

It came from my left side, sudden and deep.

I stopped breathing.

Waited.

Another stab.

That woke me up.

Whatever fog had been sitting inside my head disappeared. Images from the night before began coming back.

Leaving my flat.

Avoiding one of the neighbours on the stairs.

The Merry Lizard.

A few pints.

Maybe more than a few.

Football on the television. Some pointless argument with Ralphie about something I couldn't remember.

And then the woman.

She'd come in alone.

That should have been the first warning.

Women like her didn't go into The Merry Lizard alone.

To be fair, women like her didn't go into The Merry Lizard at all.

But there she was.

Dark hair. Red lipstick. Black coat.

And she was talking to me.

Me.

Of all people.

She'd bought me a drink.

That came back to me now.

I remembered telling her she didn't have to.

She smiled.

“It's already paid for.”

There had been something about the way she said it.

I'd noticed it at the time.

Then forgotten.

I remembered her laughing at my jokes. Leaning towards me. Her perfume. Her hand resting briefly on my arm.

I remembered looking across the pub and seeing Ralphie watching us.

He wasn't smiling.

That was odd.

At the time I'd assumed he was jealous.

Idiot.

The last thing I remembered was leaving The Merry Lizard with her.

Getting into a taxi.

After that, nothing.

The pain came again.

I clenched my teeth and shifted onto my right side.

Bad idea.

Something tore through my left side and I almost blacked out.

I took a breath and somehow managed to lift myself slightly out of the water.

That's when I saw the bandage.

Except it wasn't really a bandage.

It was a bloody piece of gauze stuck to my side with strips of silver duct tape.

It looked as though an electrician had patched me up.

A thin cloud of blood drifted into the water.

Now I was frightened.

Properly frightened.

Why was I lying in a bath full of ice?

What was underneath that dressing?

I knew I shouldn't touch it.

So of course I did.

I caught the edge of the tape and pulled.

The pain made me gasp.

Underneath was a wound.

A long cut in my side, badly closed with a row of metal staples.

For a few seconds I just stared at it.

This wasn't some drunken accident.

Someone had done this to me.

I needed help.

My phone.

Where was my phone?

I had to get out of the bath.

I grabbed the side and tried to pull myself up. Water and ice crashed around me and my hand slipped.

I fell back.

Pain exploded through my side.

I tried again.

This time I got one leg over the edge.

Then the other.

One last push and I fell onto the bathroom floor.

I screamed.

Someone must have heard that.

Mrs McQuaid.

For once in my life, I desperately wanted Mrs McQuaid to complain about the noise.

Then I saw the mirror above the basin.

Something was written across it.

Red.

Lipstick.

The same shade she'd been wearing in The Merry Lizard.

I blinked and tried to focus.

Three lines.

GET TO HOSPITAL.

YOU HAVE ONE KIDNEY LEFT.

CALL FOR HELP NOW.

I read them once.

Then again.

For a few seconds, they were just words.

Then I understood.