Unparalleled Read online

  Chapter 2

  Dave left the hospital at around midnight after the staff informed him nothing more could be achieved by his presence there. They told him Stuart’s condition was stable. “Stable?” he muttered to himself. “What the hell does that mean?” Until now, he could not recall one single occasion in his life when his brother was anything other than stable. Even when their father died, Stuart held things together for their mother, filling the role of man of the house. When she died a few years later, he became Dave’s guide, keeping him on the straight and narrow at an age when he could have easily chosen the wrong path. “Stable?” he questioned aloud. He thought long and hard about what might be causing his brother’s condition. Initially he was convinced the way Stuart had been acting was as a result of the amount of alcohol he had drank the night before. But the doctor at the hospital had rejected that. The moment he had set eyes on his brother that morning, he had sensed something was wrong. Besides the obvious confusion about his whereabouts and the constant references to his so-called wife, he just did not look right. There was something odd about him he could not work out. He talked the same and his mannerisms were the same but there was something missing in his eyes. At times it had felt like he was talking to a stranger. It obviously was Stuart but there was no doubt in his mind that something had happened to him after he left him the previous night. Something that was affecting him profoundly. Dave knew he wouldn’t go to sleep if he went to bed so he decided to go to Stuart’s home to get some clothes and underwear to take to him at the hospital. Along with the clothes, he collected a pile of post from the hallway. It was mainly bills; credit card, electric and satellite TV. The satellite TV bill also covered internet charges and included a cover note stating his next bill could be paid online using his email address and password to log in. The email address was shown on the letter but the password displayed as ******. He wondered if he might find anything in the email account to help him figure out what was going on. He had no idea what the password might be so he opted for calling the twenty-four-hour customer services line. To get the password a chirpy sounding woman took him through a series of security questions; date of birth, mother’s maiden name and account number, all of which he knew. When the customer services assistance gave him the password he could not help but laugh aloud. Amoeba. An affectionate nickname Stuart had given to Dave when they were kids. “Because you’re the lowest form of life,” he’d told him when he asked why. There were just three years between the brothers, Stuart being the eldest at forty-one. He thought back to Stuart’s fortieth birthday celebration in Amsterdam the previous year, which he had arranged as a surprise. There were six of them on the trip, Dave and Stuart, three mutual friends and one of Stuart’s work colleagues. The latter, aptly named ‘Chunky’, had turned out to be an absolute animal, taking control of the events and leading them astray at every opportunity. He even managed to talk them into getting tattoos to commemorate the trip. ‘AMS 09’ in dark blue ink at the top of their arms, a decision five of them regretted the next morning. Chunky was proud of his.

  Dave smiled and shook his head as he turned his attention back to the password. He knew where Stuart kept his laptop so it did not take long to set it up and connect to the internet. Fortunately, all Stuart’s bills were up to date so the connection was still active. He logged into the email account without issue and was soon browsing through a three-week accumulation of emails. Most of them were junk or of no particular interest, but one, sent that morning, caught his eye. The sender’s address was [email protected]. The subject line read ‘Arsehole’.

  Dave opened the email,

  Thanks a lot arsehole,

  Why did you leave me in your house like that? If you wanted rid of me you could have just asked me to leave. If you want to apologise I’m in the Queens every Thursday night with the girls. If not your loss!

  Ange.

  Dave had been in the pub with his brother for most of the night. Nothing unusual had happened by the time he left him. Stuart had been acting perfectly normal. They’d stood at the bar drinking, talking about work and football and eyeing up a group of women sat at a table behind them. As the drink took hold, Stuart got bolder with the women and flirted with one of them in particular. It soon became apparent the attraction was mutual and before long they were engrossed in each other. By about ten o’clock Dave decided he didn’t want to stand drinking at the bar on his own. He wasn’t interested in talking with any of the other women so he left, leaving Stuart, who seemed very interested, to fend for himself. His brother had only ever been in one serious relationship previously and it ended badly. He vowed he would never get seriously involved again. They both knew that if the right woman came along that would all change, but to his word, for the past two years, Stuart played the field enjoying a string of casual relationships. He looked back at the email. Angela would be back at the bar on Thursday. Today was Tuesday. He thought back to the previous night picturing his brother talking and laughing with this woman. Then the image of Stuart in the hospital bed returned to him. He resisted the temptation to email Angela, opting instead to see how his brother responded to treatment over the next few days.

  Chapter 3

  Fayeq Talal Abdu was nearing the end of a twelve-hour shift at the refinery when he heard a sound that chilled him to the bone. A sound he had not heard since the early days of the Iraqi invasion. The high pitched roar of the rocket engine sent him scrambling to the ground to take cover under a wooden table offering little protection from the explosion about to follow. When it came the explosion was distant, barely rattling the windows. The Scud must have missed but there were probably more to follow. Was this the start of another invasion or just an opportunistic strike at the refinery? Tensions at the Iraqi−Kuwaiti border had been rising in recent months but until now, the only things launched from the Iraqi side were rocks thrown at the guards. Fayeq thought of his family and the anguish they suffered during the occupation in 1990. His wife and his daughter had been kept under house arrest for months whilst he and his son managed to escape into neighbouring Saudi Arabia. Leaving his wife and daughter had been the most difficult decision he had ever had to make. But the alternative was death or capture for him and his boy. The Iraqi soldiers rounded up most of the men and many of them were never seen again.

  Fayeq started to formulate a plan. He needed to get to his family in the city before the troops started to pour in. His son was away studying in America so it was just his wife and daughter he needed to get across the border. He climbed out from under the table and grabbed his jacket. It was almost daylight and soon his daytime relief would be showing up, but he had no time to waste waiting for him. Patting his jacket pocket to ensure he had his cars keys he ran for the door and left the building. Once outside he surveyed the scene. The rocket landed about 500 metres away leaving a trail of fire and smoke that scorched the desert landscape. He would have to drive past it to get onto the main road and there could be further explosions. It was a risk he would take to get to his family. By the time he reached his vehicle the car park was full of his co-workers rushing around and chattering excitedly in their bright red overhauls and white hard hats. He did not hang around to engage with any of them, he just wanted to get away from there as fast as possible. As he left the gates of the refinery and drove toward the impact site, he noticed debris on the road. He would have to slow down to avoid fragments of metal and stone but he could still get through. As he got nearer to the largest pieces of debris, he realised what he was seeing were not the fragments of a missile but those of a light aircraft. A large section of the tail wing and several seats were scattered around the area. He realised with some embarrassment he had made the wrong assumption and should not have left his post. He quickly gathered his thoughts. He would say he had driven over to see if there were any survivors. A few people had already reached the site and were shielding their faces against the heat as they tried to approach the smouldering wreck. He noticed blue flashing lig
hts approaching from the distance so he pulled his car to one side so emergency services would have clear access. While he waited for them to arrive, he scanned the area to look for signs of life or human remains but there did not appear to be any trace of the passengers.

  Within 30 minutes of the impact, the police arrived on the scene followed closely by the fire service. Finally, two ambulances arrived. The police soon took control of the area, ordering Fayeq and other workers back to the refinery to wait for questioning. They set up a roadblock about one kilometre either side of the wreckage so Fayeq had no choice but to stay until the roadblock was cleared and his relief could get through. While he waited for the police to visit him he had time to reflect on what had happened and how he had acted. He was elated by the fact he was not going to relive the horrors of 1990, but he was sad for the people who perished in the plane crash.

  It was almost lunchtime before a police officer came to see him. Six hours had passed since the crash and the officer made it clear he was just going through the motion of taking statements. There was no mention of Fayeq leaving his post but he volunteered the information about checking for survivors anyway. The officer did not seem interested. Having completed the formality of the statement the officer passed him the papers to read over and sign. It was while he was doing this the police radio sounded and the officer suddenly became animated in response to the call. Fayeq managed to overhear some of the message but it did not make sense. According to the person on the other end of the radio, seven people had appeared at the crash site dazed and confused. The police officer ran outside to his car. Fayeq followed but this time chose to approach the crash site on foot. As he reached the crash site, he saw medics tending to a group of people. There were five men and two women. They were all pale skinned, clearly of Western origin. The two women had on police jackets while the men were wrapped in blankets. All were bare legged and bare footed. Without taking his eyes off the group of people he nudged one if his co-workers and asked who they were. Unfortunately, the man he nudged was Solomon the cleaner, an annoying little man who had a reputation for exaggerating everything and was incapable of taking anything seriously. He turned to Fayeq with an inane toothless grin on his face and told him that the people had suddenly appeared on the horizon just behind where the jet had crashed. He said at first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him as they approached through the heat haze. However, as they drew nearer he could see they were all completely naked, wearing, he joked, nothing more than a dazed and confused expression. Fayeq paid little attention to Solomon and turned his gaze back to the group being tended to by the medics. They did look confused but appeared otherwise unharmed. He dismissed immediately the possibility they were survivors of the crash, thinking instead they were probably passing by on the road when the plane had impacted. Or maybe camping nearby which would explain their nakedness. They regularly had groups of young people camping in the dessert, though this group did not seem that young.

  Fayeq’s relief finally made it through the roadblock by 4 pm, just two hours before they were meant to change over for the night shift. His relief agreed to stay on shift until midnight so Fayeq could get some sleep. On his way home Fayeq turned on the radio to listen to the news. As expected the crash near the refinery was the headline story. He listened in disbelief as the reporter claimed the four passengers and three crew had miraculously survived the crash uninjured. Fayeq knew from what he had seen this was not possible. He thought back to the seven people who he saw at the ambulance. If they were survivors from the crash, having not sustained a single injury between them, that truly was a miracle. He reached over to the radio and flicked through the stations until he found one playing music. It had been a very strange day and despite everything that had happened, he was grateful to be going home to his family.

  Chapter 4

  Dave sat at his work desk staring at the engineering drawing on the screen in front of him. He thought work might act as a distraction but found it impossible to concentrate on anything while his brother lay unconscious. Two days had passed since Stuart’s collapse and the staff at the hospital were none the wiser as to the cause of his condition. Dave went over in his head repeatedly the last conversation he’d had with his brother; the so-called wife, the inability to recognise his own home, the strange address in Croydon. What had happened to him to make him think these things? He continued to monitor his brother’s email and post but found nothing to help explain his behaviour. The only clue suggesting something strange had happened was in the email from the girl Stuart met in the pub. He looked at his calendar. According to the mail she would be there tonight.

  Angela was sat at the same table with the same five friends when Dave entered the bar. He approached the table, introducing himself and engaging awkwardly in small talk with the group who were already well on their way to being drunk. The table was cluttered with glasses varying from almost full to empty. A dozen empty shot glasses in the middle indicated the group’s intention for the night. At the opportune moment Dave asked Angela if he could have ten minutes with her on his own. This drew cheers and wolf whistles from her friends. He felt himself blush for the first time in many years. Initially she was reluctant to join him, clearly still annoyed at the way Stuart had treated her. But when Dave explained what had happened the following day her annoyance turned to concern. She offered to help in any way she could. She excused herself from her friends, drawing another round of raucous cheering. They headed to a table at the other side of the pub. Dave went to the bar to buy drinks before joining Angela at the table. As soon as they sat down she opened up to him about the events that took place following his departure that night. “I really liked your brother. He was charming and funny, we were getting along really well. He invited me to his place for a nightcap so I accepted without giving it a second thought.”

  “Would you say there was anything strange about the way he was behaving?” Dave asked. She took a sip of her drink before answering. “Not at all. Everything was really nice, we got a bit carried away but it was fun. But then he ruined it by disappearing and leaving me alone in his house.” She explained how when they arrived Stuart’s home they ended up going straight to bed. Without elaborating she made it obvious they’d had sex. “We’d already been in bed for over an hour before he finally offered me the night cap he promised” She gave Dave a coy smile. “When he went downstairs to get the drinks I nipped to the loo. When I came back the drinks were there but he wasn’t. He must have gotten changed because when he went for the drinks he’d pulled on a pair of shorts and they were now on the bed.”

  “How long did you wait before you left?” Dave asked. “Over an hour,” she said petulantly, “I looked everywhere for him but he was nowhere. After about an hour of waiting I gave up and called a cab.”

  Dave could not think of any logical reason why Stuart would disappear like that. Angela seemed a nice woman and it wasn’t Stuart’s style to treat women that way, even if he did have commitment issues. He had called him the next morning at nine-thirty and Stuart called back within minutes. Somewhere during the six hours between leaving Angela and that call, something happened to his brother that turned his world upside down.

  Chapter 5

  For a second time Stuart woke up in a strange bed. However, unlike the previous occasion it did not take him long to work out where he was. There were a number of wires leading from pads on his chest to a machine at the side of the bed. A tube protruded from a patch of plasters on the back of his hand and led to a bottle of clear liquid dangling from a stand. Considering recent events, he was not surprised to find himself in hospital connected to a drip and a heart monitor. He still had no idea what was going on but he recalled the previous day’s events with crystal clarity, right up until the point when he discovered there were complete strangers occupying his and Lauren’s home. Lauren, where is Lauren? he thought. Has anybody told her I am sick? She will be worried and she’s in no fit state to be worrying about me.
/>   He raised his head gingerly, expecting the throbbing pain he had experienced the previous morning but it never came. He still felt woozy but at least the headache had gone and he was not feeling sick. He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. There was a small table with a jug of orange juice and a glass on it. He poured himself a glass and gulped it down. At the foot of the table, he found a backpack on the floor leaning against one of the legs. He leaned over to open the bag but had to stop as the blood rushed to his head, making him feel dizzy. He opted instead for lifting the bag onto the bed and turning it upside down to spill out the contents. It contained three pairs of underpants, three t-shirts, a bundle of letters bearing his name and the address of the house he had woken up in, a phone and a wallet. None of the items from the bag belonged to him. He recognised the phone and the wallet from the house but they were not his. He opened the wallet and inspected the contents. Just as Dave had done previously he removed a number of cards bearing his name. In addition there was £70 in £10 notes, a couple of business cards from people whose name he had never heard of and a couple of credit card receipts for items he had never bought. He threw the wallet aside and buried his head in his hands. “What is happening to me?” The muffled words filtered through his fingers and hung in the air unanswered.

  He attempted to stand up but he was too weak, the fatigue forcing him to lie back onto the bed. Before long sleep took hold of him again and he drifted back into a deep slumber.