Already Dead by Stephen Booth

lived.

6
    Half an hour later, Detective Sergeant Ben Cooper stepped out of his front door on to Welbeck Street, and panicked.
    He’d hardly set foot on the pavement when he found himself facing his landlady, Dorothy Shelley. He took a pace back, fighting a surge of anxiety. For weeks, it had felt like a shock every time he met someone, no matter how well he knew them. His throat constricted and the palms of his hands became suddenly sweaty.
    Mrs Shelley stared at him from under her PVC rain hood. It had stopped raining now, but she seemed to have forgotten to take it off. A part of Cooper wanted to remind her, to tell her she didn’t need to be wearing the hood this morning. That side of him hated the idea that people passing by in the street would think she was a batty old lady. She’d been good to him over the years. Mrs Shelley made him feel welcome in Edendale, and that meant a lot.
    But another part of him found it was too much effort. The discomfort in his throat made it difficult for him even to get the words out. The conversation might get complicated, and that scared him too much. He felt anxious even thinking about it. So he said nothing. It seemed the safest option.
    ‘Oh, Ben,’ said the old lady brightly. ‘There you are at last. Are you just going out?’
    ‘Yes, Mrs Shelley.’
    ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Just fine.’
    Of course he didn’t feel fine. He hadn’t felt fine for a very long time. It seemed like years and years and years. He’d even forgotten what it felt like. But he nodded at Mrs Shelley and said he felt just fine. And when she eyed him dubiously, he nodded again and kept nodding, like an idiot. He could feel himself doing it, but couldn’t stop.
    Mrs Shelley scraped her stick on the pavement anxiously.
    ‘And are you on your way—?’ she said.
    ‘Yes, the usual place,’ he said. ‘I’m going to visit Liz.’
    He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and rattled them, as if to prove what he was saying. His Toyota was standing by the kerb a few yards away, waiting for him. He was free to go, wasn’t he? There was nothing else he was supposed to do.
    Cooper stopped rattling his keys and looked more closely at Mrs Shelley, wondering if there was something he’d forgotten. He felt almost certain there wasn’t. He definitely didn’t have to go to work. He was still on leave. Extended leave, they called it. That meant he didn’t have to think about work for a while. He hadn’t thought about it for … how long?
    His airways spasmed and the pain began to spread into his lungs, making it difficult for him to breathe. The old burns on his arms itched, and his fingers clenched into fists. He recognised the signs, and his sight blurred for a few moments as he fought the attack. He gritted his teeth, determined not to let it show in front of Mrs Shelley.
    When his vision cleared again, she’d moved a step or two closer and was holding out her free hand as if she was about to touch him. She looked almost as though she was expecting to have to catch him if he fell, as if he might faint and fall flat on the pavement at any moment. His landlady got such strange ideas. She was definitely going a bit batty.
    ‘Would you like me to come with you?’ she asked.
    Cooper frowned. Why did she suggest that? In what universe would he ask Mrs Shelley to come with him to visit Liz? Didn’t she understand?
    ‘No, thank you,’ he said. ‘But—’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘But it’s kind of you to offer.’
    That was right, wasn’t it? That was the sort of thing you said to fob people off, when you just wanted them to leave you alone. He began to move towards the kerb, but Mrs Shelley was still holding out her hand. He was afraid she might be about to grab hold of his arm and keep him back.
    ‘I could get you a taxi, perhaps?’ she said.
    ‘No, I’ll be okay, really,’ said Cooper. ‘I can drive, I still have a car.’
    Even as he said it, he felt his voice weakening.