Jill was fighting to keep her eyes open, to forget the terrible pain in her head. She could not remember the last time she had eaten or slept. She was so weak that it was difficult to stand. She forced energy into her voice. “I’m fine, David.”
“I love you, darling. Take care of yourself.”
“I’m going to, David. I love you. Please know that.” No matter what happens.
She heard the physiotherapist’s car turn into the driveway, and Jill started downstairs, her head pounding, her trembling legs barely able to support her. She opened the front door as the physiotherapist was about to ring the bell.
“Morning, Mrs. Temple,” he said. He started to enter but Jill blocked his way. He looked at her in surprise.
“Dr. Kaplan has decided to discontinue Mr. Temple’s therapy treatments,” Jill said.
The physiotherapist frowned. It meant he had made an unnecessary trip out here. Someone should have told him earlier. Ordinarily he would have complained about the way it had been handled. But Mrs. Temple was such a great lady, with such big problems. He smiled at her and said, “It’s okay, Mrs. Temple. I understand.”
And he got back into his car.
Jill waited until she heard the car drive away. Then she started back up the stairs. Halfway up, a wave of dizziness hit her again, and she had to cling to the banister until it passed. She could not stop now. If she did, she would be dead.
She walked to the door of Toby’s room, turned the knob and entered. Nurse Gallagher was seated in an easy chair working on needlepoint. She looked up in surprise as she saw Jill standing in the doorway. “Well!” she said. “You’ve come to visit us. Isn’t that nice?” She turned toward the bed. “I know Mr. Temple is pleased. Aren’t we, Mr. Temple?”
Toby was sitting up in bed, propped upright by pillows, his eyes carrying his message to Jill. I’m going to kill you.
Jill averted her eyes and walked over to Nurse Gallagher. “I’ve decided that I haven’t been spending enough time with my husband.”
“Well, now, that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking,” Nurse Gallagher chirped. “But then I could see that you’ve been ill yourself, and so I said to myself—”
“I’m feeling much better now,” Jill interrupted. “I’d like to be alone with Mr. Temple.”
Nurse Gallagher gathered up her needlepoint paraphernalia and got to her feet. “Of course,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll enjoy that.” She turned toward the grinning figure on the bed. “Won’t we, Mr. Temple?” To Jill, she added, “I’ll just go down to the kitchen and fix myself a nice cup of tea.”
“No. You’re off duty in half an hour. You can leave now. I’ll stay here until Nurse Gordon arrives.” Jill gave her a quick, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here with him.”
“I suppose I could get some shopping done, and—”
“Fine,” Jill said. “You run along.”
Jill stood there, immobile, until she heard the front door slam and Nurse Gallagher’s car going down the driveway. When the sounds of the motor had died away on the summer air, Jill turned to look at Toby.
His eyes were focused on her face in an unwavering, unblinking stare. Forcing herself to move closer to the bed, she pulled back the covers and looked down at the wasted, paralyzed frame, the limp, useless legs.
The wheelchair was in a corner. Jill moved it over to the bedside and positioned the chair so that she could roll Toby onto it. She reached toward him, and stopped. It took every ounce of her willpower to touch him. The grinning, mummified face was only inches away from her, the mouth smiling idiotically and the bright blue eyes spewing venom. Jill leaned forward and forced herself to lift Toby by his arms. He was almost weightless, but in Jill’s exhausted condition, she could barely manage it. As she touched his body, Jill could feel the icy air begin to envelop her. The pressure inside her head was becoming unbearable. There were bright colored spots before her eyes, and they began to dance around, faster and faster, making her dizzy. She felt herself starting to faint, but she knew that she must not allow that to happen. Not if she wanted to live. With a superhuman effort, she dragged Toby’s limp body onto the wheelchair and strapped him in. She looked at her watch. She had only twenty minutes.
It took Jill five minutes to go into her bedroom and change into a bathing suit and return to Toby’s room.
She released the brake on the wheelchair and began to wheel Toby down the corridor, into the elevator. She stood behind him as they rode down, so that she could not see his eyes. But she could feel them. And she could feel the damp cold of the noxious air that began to fill the elevator, smothering her, caressing her, filling her lungs with its putrescence until she began to choke. She could not breathe. She fell to her knees, gasping, fighting to stay conscious, trapped in there with him. As she started to feel herself blacking out, the elevator door opened. She crawled into the warm sunlight and lay there on the ground, breathing deeply, sucking in the fresh air, slowly getting back her energy. She turned toward the elevator. Toby was seated in the wheelchair, watching, waiting. Jill quickly pushed the chair out of the elevator. She started toward the swimming pool. It was a beautiful, cloudless day, warm and balmy, the sun sparkling on the blue, filtered water.
Jill rolled the wheelchair to the edge of the deep end of the pool and set the brake. She walked around to the front of the chair. Toby’s eyes were fixed on her, watchful, puzzled. Jill reached for the strap holding Toby into the chair, and tightened it as hard as she could, pulling on it, yanking it with all that was left of her strength, feeling herself growing dizzy again with the effort. Suddenly it was done. Jill watched Toby’s eyes change as he realized what was happening, and they began to fill with wild, demonic panic.