Afterlife.

Dan was discharged within the week. The nurses all gave him their best and hoped for his swift recovery and return to work. His obvious, physical scars were beginning to heal but I knew that the psychological ones were deep. Not unlike my own.

The rain lashed down as we waited for our taxi to appear. We had decided that until we both got back on our feet, that maybe we should live together at his house. To try and help each other.

The black cab pulled up into the lay by outside the hospital and I opened the door for Dan. He layed his crutches down by his feet and swung his legs in. I took my place next to him and gave the address to the cabbie. The rain ran in rivulets down the window as I leaned my head against the glass.

"So," Dan coughed, "You got any stuff you need bringing over?"

"Yeah, but I'll get it tomorrow. Right now, I'm pretty hungry." He nodded.

"I hope you can cook, or it's SuperNoodles from here on out." I smiled weakly.

"Yep, I can cook. Don't worry I'll feed you." He reached out and held my hand.

"Good. I like food."

"I think I'll start calling you Audrey." I said seriously.

"I'm a woman now? Gosh." I chuckled.

"No you're a giant man eating plant." The cab drew to a halt. I paid the driver and got out to help Dan out with his crutches. It was when we were walking up the vast driveway that I first started to wonder how he could afford this on a nurse's salary. The distinct absence of the car that once sat on this driveway rattled through my brain.

We hopped up the stairs, literally in Dan's case, and he unlocked the front door. The stained glass panels refracted prettily around the hallway as the sunlight drifted through them.

I wandered through the hallway into the kitchen and hoisted myself up onto the counter. After a pointed look from Dan I slid slowly back down again.

"So. What do you want to eat?" I asked, mooching through the fridge.

"I dunno. What have I got?" He replied, settling himself down in the huge leather armchair by the bay window. I pulled out the ingredients for omelettes and started to melt the butter.

"Omelettes better be okay. I've started them now." I laughed, whisking the eggs in a jug. I seasoned the mix and melted the butter as Dan turned on the T.V.

I worked in silence, adding mushrooms, tomatoes and cheese to my masterpieces before removing them from the heat.

"Drink?" I asked, reassessing the fridge again.

"Please. We got any lemonade in?" He called. I scanned the fridge.

"No, we got some Diet Coke and some of that carbonated water. Oh and Stella but I guess you can't have that." He asked for the latter and I pulled out two glasses.

Walking into the huge living room admired my surroundings as I handed Dan his meal. I retrieved my own food and sat down on the sofa.

Several minutes later, we had demolished the omelettes and were simply sipping our drinks and watching a mind numbing documentary on the duck-billed platypus.

"Can you get that bag of meds off the table for me?" He asked and I nodded swallowing the last of my drink. I rested the empty glass on the counter top and picked up the bag.

"What's in here anyway?" I enquired, curious at the weight of it.

"Painkillers, anti-depressants and a handy little cure for acne." He said bitterly, swallowing at least 3 different types of pills before packing them all away neatly again. I stood watching him for a while before he looked up at me.

"What?" I shrugged and walked out of the door and up the stairs. The photos on the walls all seemed faked, staged in some way - and I knew that well. The whole idea about family life was spontaneity in my opinion. But who was I to judge.

I discovered three giant bedrooms and two well proportioned bathrooms to match. There was a study filled with books on cardiac surgery specifying in valvular heart disease and how to treat it. Just looking at the titles made me feel queasy. Dan obviously had high hopes. A photo album was stuffed hastily onto the shelf between Valvular Heart Disease by Catherine M Otto and Feighenbaum's Echocardiography by William F Armstrong. I daren't move anything in the clearly highly organised room. I found my way back downstairs without exploring the rest of the house.

Dan was moving slowly and painstakingly around the kitchen and making himself another drink. Something was different about the room; I couldn't quite put my finger on what. He turned around and smiled a sad smile at me. I rested a hand on his back and stole a sip of his drink.

"Which is my room?" I asked as he swatted my hand away from the tall glass.

"Blue." He said, knowing I had been nosing around. I grinned slightly and turned back around. It suddenly hit me.

"I'm going up then..." I said, walking quickly out of the room.

Every, single photograph of Anne had been taken down.