Wild Fiction

In the mornings and the evenings, Rebecca harangued the author. She had made him bring back to life almost all of the characters in the basement. She forced him to dig out all his old manuscripts and short stories and made him work on them. The author had had a fertile imagination before he had created her and he had written about characters and not stories. Consequently, the house had filled with people wandering around aimlessly. Fictionals without direction, without plot and without a story in which to realise themselves. She made him write stories and put these fictionals into those stories. She introduced herself to all the characters. Once she had worked out their raison d’être she dictated a plot for them to the author. Rebecca was most impressed with Katherine. Katherine called herself Kate but Rebecca was not sure that was such a good idea, so she continued to refer to her as Katherine. Katherine was a homicide detective from Scotland Yard. She investigated murders and specialised in the serial murderer. Rebecca thought that there was enormous potential for Katherine and dictated an intricate and twisted psychological thriller for her to star in. Murder in London, she called it.
‘It will be your next best seller’ she said to the author.
The only person Rebecca did not make the author revive was Sebastian. Rebecca could not bring herself to tell Sebastian about his brother’s death. She kept on putting it off until she finally decided not to have him brought back to life. It was hard enough thinking about James and Conrad not being around anymore. A James look-alike would only bring back the pain of the destruction of James and Conrad.
Exactly one hundred and nineteen days after Genevieve had slipped into the coma Rebecca walked into her private ward with a copy of Bridget Jones’ Diary in her hand. She had read the first half to her the day before. Genevieve’s eyes were open and the ventilating pipe had been removed. A nurse stood next to the bed holding Genevieve’s wrist and looking at her watch.
‘Hello,’ Genevieve mouthed at her with a faint smile. No sound came out of her mouth.
Tears came to Rebecca’s eyes and streamed down her cheeks. The nurse looked up and smiled at Rebecca.
‘She’s come out of the coma,’ she said to Rebecca. ‘It happened a couple of hours after you left yesterday but we didn’t want you to come back until she was feeling a bit stronger. She can’t speak yet but she’ll regain her voice soon. I’ll leave you alone,’ she said walking to the door, ‘but please don’t tire her out.’
‘Genevieve I’m so excited,’ Rebecca said holding her bunched up hand over her mouth and crying. ‘Can I touch you? Can I kiss you?’ Rebecca asked and rushed forward kissing Genevieve before she could answer.
Genevieve winced and pointed to her throat.