The night clawed at her temples. She
faced-off the dark in a feverish quest. For what, she wasn’t sure. The box
hedge stirred in the dark; the couch grass whispered. What company did Rodin’s The Kiss
keep? What about the dreamy amble? The security light had provided the perfect
stage. She had given a spectator something to look at. A shudder slithered up
her spine and pooled at the base of her throat.
Her
fingers trembled as she grappled for his other crutch resting against the back
door. The upper spindle slipped through her fingers. She had the notion the
thing was trying to evade her. In her smart clothes, she felt a sham. She was
still daughter of Sheila.
Vince
had barely moved when she returned to him. ‘Mr. Jonas.’ Her voice came low and
insistent. ‘It is time to get up now. I have your other crutch.’
She
could feel the eyes within the box hedge, his boot planted in the grass, his
glasses reflecting. Nancy neared her mouth to Vince’s ear and the word please teased at her lips. Vince’s
wheezing had lessened and his eye made a weary blink. He swallowed noisily. Please wanted to leave her lips but she
wouldn’t let it. Despite the shame burning her chest, she conjured the nurse
within. ‘It’s time to get up now, Mr. Jonas,’ she said quietly so the box hedge
wouldn’t hear. Vince’s eye flicked her way. She proffered his crutch.
For
a moment, Vince didn’t respond, seemingly locked within a cocoon of inertia.
She would wait and she would keep offering the crutch. ‘It’s time to get up now,
Mr. Jonas.’ Gentle yet firm. When had he raised his trembling hand? Nancy
couldn’t be sure, as time had dissolved behind a screen. His second crutch came
to life. His journey to a standing position involved no further hand from her. Phases
in deliberation made a simple maneouvre look graceless and difficult: the
flexing of a knee, the twisting of a shoulder. The security light carved out
his wretched form as he battled gravity. His crutches trembled, his crutches
slipped, his heel twisted. He grazed his elbow, saliva dribbled down his chin,
he snorted balls of condensation. Cords contorted his neck and sweat soaked his
collar. Sightless, he groped his way to the top of his crutches. Nancy did not
intervene.
The
box hedge continued to watch.
Nancy’s
eyes remained on Vince. He tucked the crutch-pads beneath his armpits; his
fingers took position at the crossbars. Both soles came to rest upon the patio.
Unceremonious, Nancy entered the house.
An
eternity later, the limo flickered around her as Vince’s pallor bleached to
ashen. His blanket whispered between her fingers as she straightened it over
his abdomen. His lungs submitted to another wheezing ripple before his pillow
consumed the back of his head. Throughout his journey, his wheelchair remained
in the rain, the screws to his stairlift in her satchel-bag. He didn’t ask for
them. He didn’t ask for anything. Only her presence assisted his lurch throughout
the house. Her presence became the needle that wouldn’t let him settle. The
stairs arrived at the dead of night. Each riser taunted his twisted form. But
Vince had endless attempts as the minutes grinded past. And all the while, his
sweaty grasp inched up the banister.
Before
straightening his blanket, Nancy helped him out of his sweatshirt. He collapsed
onto his back. She slipped off his slacks. Heat radiated from his body. She
unfastened his knee braces. A maze of shadows obscured the sight and she was
grateful. She went into the bathroom to find a cabinet devoid of painkillers.
She filled a glass with water. When she returned, she found sleep had pulled
all tension from his face. He continued to wheeze, though softly through his
mouth. Shame prickled her again. She could barely look at him as she deposited
the glass on the dresser. She stepped to Vince’s window to encounter an inkblot
of oak-tops splintering the sky. The box hedge lurked somewhere to the right.
But the lone apple tree proved a favoured prop for Henry’s garden tools. In the
gloom, Nancy could make out a pole. Nancy knew before exiting the premises that
Henry had set the gates on automatic again.
