Read Online The Fire by Robert White - Free Book Online Page B

and gold autumn landscape that surrounded it.
    Stepping out into the cold, I watched Donald open the front door to allow the McMillan nurse to leave. She seemed cheery.
    Donald looked like shit.
    Despite his affair with Anne, I harboured no ill will toward him. I admit when I first discovered my wife's infidelity, I wanted to kill them both, but that quickly subsided.
    She'd been a woman in her prime and I'd been...well...I'd been anywhere else than by her side.
    Donald spotted me as I walked up the path and I thought I saw a look of relief on his face. I'd met him a couple of times when Anne and I were finalising our divorce. Each of us collecting items that we thought were important or valuable, that kind of thing. Donald had always kept out of the way and hadn't interfered. He seemed a man of few words, quiet and decent.
    He nodded to acknowledge my arrival. "Des."
    We shook hands.
    "Donald," I answered, not knowing what else to say.
    He did his best to turn his head and wipe his eyes but large silent teardrops rolled down his face and into his thick beard as he spoke.
    "Thanks for coming," he managed. "She'll be pleased to see you."
    I'd felt alone on the journey north; isolated in my own private nightmare; yet I was far from alone, eh?
    "You okay?" I asked.
    He nodded quickly and turned. "Come in out of the cold, Des. She's...Anne's in the front room...they said it was better than upstairs...I'll leave you alone...I'm sure...I'm sure..."
    Donald stopped mid-sentence, and did his best to decide his next move. Finally he grabbed his jacket from a hook in the hall and strode past me.
    His voice was as broken as his spirit. "I'll be in the garden if you need me."
    And he was gone.
    I was rooted to the carpet. I could see the door to the lounge. Opening it was another matter.
    I'd seen some shit in my time; things no human should witness. And I've opened doors that no man in his right mind would have laid a hand on, but as I reached for the handle to that room, I shook; just as I had done all those years ago when I'd faced Tam on the rubble of Norfolk Street.
    The door made a whooshing sound on the thick carpet as I stepped inside.
    Anne lay propped up in bed facing the patio doors, no doubt so she could see out into the garden and admire Donald's work. The low autumn sun shone through the trees and painted shadows on her face and pillows as she slept. She'd lost her hair; the few grey wisps that remained were held bizarrely in place by beads of sweat.
    My God, she had fantastic hair.
    Her arms were skin and bone; her elbows showing signs of pressure sores despite the nurse's best efforts.
    I bit my lip and gave myself a talking to.
    What the fuck did you expect ?
    She had two drips. One a saline which was doing little else than keeping her hydrated, and a second, attached to a mechanical plunger that delivered pain relief as and when Anne pressed a button attached to a wire on her wrist; probably a mix of morphine and heroin. A clear tube that ran under her nose delivered oxygen under pressure into both nostrils.
    I took a step closer and she opened her eyes. It took a few seconds, but eventually she focused on me. I'd seen eyes like hers before, when guys were fatally wounded on the battlefield. Despite their agony and their fear, they knew it was over. Anne knew her time had come.
    Her voice was thin; as thin as her body. It was almost as if someone or something was draining the life from her into a bucket underneath the bed. She was....empty.
    "Hello, Desmond," she whispered. "How's my handsome man?"
    I pulled a chair, and sat. I took her hand. It was cold; I could feel her bones. I wanted to tell her that I still loved her. I wanted to say that everything would be alright yet, as usual, my mouth wouldn't work.
    She smiled as she always had when I was stuck for the right words, but the pain took it away in an instant and she grabbed at the button to deliver her next dose of medication.
    Her breathing was laboured for a few