Farrah

Farrah looked relaxed and carefree as she stepped through the crowds on the way to the coffee shop just beside Macy’s.  She had the day off and had arranged to meet Kurt, her new boyfriend there.  A stiff breeze was blowing in from across the bay so for a moment she stopped in front of a shop window to push back the thick tumbling curls that had fallen across her pretty heart shaped face.   Leaning a little closer she used the tip of her little finger to apply a few dabs of the sparkling lip gloss that she had found in the pocket of the tatty leather jacket she was wearing. 

Pressing her lips together to even out the tone, she checked her appearance once more and was more than a little annoyed to find two shop workers laughing at her on the other side of the glass. 

“Bitchy, bitchy, bitchy,” Farrah muttered under her breath as she put the lip gloss back in her pocket.  Further adding to her annoyance she dropped her morrello cherry ice cream lip gloss and it rolled slowly towards the kerb. 

From across the street two floors up a pair of hungry eyes watched approvingly as she bent down to pick it up.  Farah’s skirt was short a short blue denim one and when it rode higher still the owner of the dark hungry eyes drew in a deep breath, remembering what lay beneath.  He was glad that she’d changed her mind and worn the denim one instead of the long gypsy skirt with the silver thread running through it.

Because it was short but not ultra-revealing, he felt a perverse thrill at the thought that he’d seen far more of Farrah than anyone else had so far that morning.  And rightly so in his view.  She was his alone, no one else’s.  However he knew from the text messages he’d intercepted that she’d arranged to meet Kurt this morning so he decided it was high time he got him out of the picture.  There was no room in Farrah’s life for another man.  Leaning back in his chair he blew a puff of silvery smoke through the side of his mouth and flicked the powdery ash into a silver art deco ashtray sitting on the window ledge.

Raising the binoculars he saw that she was now on the move again.  But it didn’t worry him.  He’d been tracking her every move for the past several months until he’d got to know her characteristics almost as well as he knew his own.  In fact he knew full well that she’d had no breakfast that morning and that it was unlikely that she would be able to pass by the street vendors on Templar Square without stopping for a bacon and egg muffin topped with that strange British delicacy, HP sauce.  It was one of the few things that had given away her origins.  That and the background checks he’d run on her.

Of course it would be a gluten free muffin with free range eggs and ethically raised bacon.  Farah was always keen to make a statement, even with her food.  Girls with ready opinions and brains were so much more interesting than the vacant eyed big boobed variety, he thought with a smirk.   But Farrah had it all, barring the vacant nobody’s home look.

Her eyes weren’t vacant at all.  They were pure magic.  He saw them every night over her web cam.  Sultry pools of blue inviting him to bathe in their pleasurable depths.  God, it gave him a hard on just thinking about it!  If only!

“Farrah!  Wait up!” Somebody shouted.

It was Kurt running to meet her across the street his sun kissed blonde hair flopping over his eyes.    She turned and smiled, happy to see him so eager to be with her.

The traffic on the left waited patiently for the lights to change while the lane on the right hand side lay empty.  Taking the drivers completely by surprise they did change and far too quickly.  Suddenly a car came hurtling down the right hand lane.  A screech of tires cut through the air and the smell of burning rubber, acrid and eye watering filled Farrah’s nostrils.

There was an almighty crash as Kurt hit the hood of the metallic blue sedan, bouncing up and onto the windshield which smashed into a silvery spider web of death.

“Kurt!  Oh my God!  Kurt!” screamed Farrah rushing towards him.

People crowded round, fascinated by the horror and the drama suddenly unfolding before their very eyes.

“Someone call 911!” someone shouted.

“Let me see him!” shouted Farrah.  “I’m a trained nurse.”

She was angry and hell bent on forcing her way through those congregated around her boyfriend’s broken body.

In the face of her fury the crowd relented and let her through.  Crouching down beside him she automatically checked his vital signs taking every care not to move him.   

In what seemed like seconds paramedics arrived and attended to Kurt.  After she had given them all the information she had which was negligible, Farrah watched from the side lines as they moved him onto a spine board.

A few hours later Farrah rang her employer on her mobile to tell him that she wouldn’t be able to come in the next day.

“I’m really sorry John,” she said in a shaky voice.  “But my boyfriend Kurt was knocked down by a car today.  I’m at the hospital with him right now.”

“Oh my God!  Farrah, I’m so sorry…”

“I know, it’s crazy.  Like some bloody nightmare!  Maybe Kate could cover for me?  I know she usually only comes in on my day off, but I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I’ll sort something out,” said John trying to reassure her in his faltering words.  “If worse comes to the worst I could ring my mother.”

“Your mother?  God no.  That woman told me she didn’t even think you had cerebral palsy last time I saw her!  If Kate can’t come we’ll get someone else.  I have friends in nursing.  They’ll help.”

“Try not to worry about me,” said John peering at the image of Farrah on his lap top.  The lap top was fitted to his wheel chair, almost as much a part of him as his stomach tube.

“I do worry about you John.  But Kurt is not good.  I really need to be with him.  I hope you understand.”

“Of course I do,” said John, his twisted fingers hovering above the keys.  His body may have been ruined but his mind was razor sharp.  A sudden flurry of key strokes and he turned off Kurt’s life support machine.  It was merciful really, that’s what he told himself.   Kurt didn’t deserve Farrah, no matter what she thought.  Given enough time she would see that he was the only one for her.

Hearing the alarms, Farrah raced along the corridor just in time to find the nurses converging upon Kurt’s pallid form.  Bruised and battered he lay motionless as they struggled to bring him back.  But nothing could bridge the gap.  The spark had already gone.

“Please!  Don’t give up on him!” Farrah cried to the nurse holding the defibrillator paddles.

Once again the nurse tried to shock his heart back into rhythm but as everyone in the room expected she met with failure.

 Hand to her head Farrah fought back the tears and struggled against the onslaught of emotions.  Whispering  as she sank to her knees with  her back against the wall, she said,

“Kurt.  Please come back!  Please come back to me.  You’re the only one for me.  I knew from the very start.”

John looked into his computer screen each word a knife into his bitter and twisted heart.  One day she would say those words to him and erase all the emptiness that lay before…

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