Nora by Charles J Harwood Chapter 28.2
Nancy descended the stairs when she
was done. The unasked question hovered over the room as she cut, cleansed and
applied. The swelling around his knees had subsided leaving pressure marks from
his braces. Otherwise, his knees appeared much the same as that first time.
Before leaving, she deposited a Sudoku puzzle book onto his bed complete with
ballpoint. ‘A little something to keep you diverted, Mr. Jonas,’ she uttered.
His skulking appraisal concluded with a disdainful closing of eyes.
She
went into the kitchen to wash her hands and the rattle of keys startled her
from behind. Henry’s denimmed flank protruded from the recess. Nancy quickly dried
her hands, hoping he hadn’t spotted her.
‘Hey.’
Nancy
paused as a bleep sounded and his boot shifted into view. ‘I’ve been meaning to
ask you.’ Henry entered the kitchen clutching Sheila’s keys. A stone formed in
her chest. ‘Are these yours?’
Nancy’s
lips twitched. Her previous encounter of him in the maintenance room flashed in
her head. ‘Yes,’ she confessed and sensed shifting quicksand beneath her feet.
Henry’s
brows knit. ‘Oh.’ The keys clinked in his palm. ‘Well, I have spares of what
you’ve taken, but I’m gonna need the originals back.’
Nancy
eyed him, but could not get past his apparent sincerity.
‘Y’
know, I would’ve let you in anyway. You’re working here as a nurse, after all.’
Her
hands felt hot and heavy as she unzipped the front pouch of her satchel bag for
the E and F keys. ‘That won’t be necessary, Henry.’ She placed the bronze
artifacts upon the table in front of him.
Henry
made a small shrug. ‘T’s okay. You don’t have to give ‘em back right now. I...I
mean, since I’ve been taking care of stuff for you here and all…’
‘You’ve
got me wrong, Henry.’
Henry’s
frown collided with a bemused smile.
‘I’m
not like you. I don’t get off on the stuff that you do. You obviously have a…a
taste for something I don’t understand. Perhaps we should keep…a wide berth of one
another.’
All
expression dropped from his face. Sheila’s keys grated within his hand. ‘I…I
don’t…’
‘You’ve
been watching. I saw you.’
Henry’s
glasses flashed against the window. ‘Look, I don’t know why you used me to get
that device thing from me that first time, but I don’t much care about that anymore.
I just wanna keep stuff in line for you here. You need me.’
Her
hands writhed in her pockets. ‘I…I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you, but
I’d prefer it if you got on with your job so that I can get on with mine.’
His
distilled glower came without warning. ‘Excuse me for saying so, Nora, but you
don’t seem to be a regular type of nurse.’
Her
hands quivered. ‘And yet you didn’t report me.’
His
expression stiffened to unveil an unnerving apathy. The quicksand shifted,
threatening to engulf her. Nancy knit her lip and moved to leave.
‘With airbrushed skin,
no follicle astray, Cosmopolitan demands…’
Nancy’s
feet froze in place.
‘You oblige with
indifferent gaze, picture perfect, the height of poise. But your hair is too
black and your smile is too white and I see a void in your eyes…until the day
your world fell apart, and I saw you come alive.
‘I
wrote it last night. I like him like this, Nora. Since you came along, the
bullshit that I see here every day has shown itself to be what it really is: hot
air and politics, ego trippers trying to outdo each other. You’ve cut through all
that bullshit with such poetic justice.’
Nancy’s
lips shifted but words stuck to her throat.
She
left the kitchen.
Nancy
decided to clean the trolley in the drawing room. She would do what Naomi the
housekeeper had done: busy in her task and take pains not to engage. With the
smell of disinfectant, mages of last night smarted. She wished Vince had stowed
uppers and washed them down with scotch. She wished she could replace Vince with
Sheila, prostrate over her witch-shaped vomit on the floor of the Hatchet Inn
toilets. She wished she’d stuck Sheila’s scooter out in the rain and force her
up a steep hill via a pair of good legs. She wished she could take back what
she said to Vince and aim them back at Sheila for every time she cloaked
herself in self-denial.
Nancy
pushed the used rags into a plastic bag. She entered the foyer and a shadow
drifted over the desk. Nancy turned to see Henry standing behind her. ‘You know
what? I think you’re fair game.’ The smell of cut grass burgeoned from his
jumper. He crossed his arms. ‘I don’t understand it, Nora. I thought we sort of
understood each other. I thought you’d be grateful for not turning you in. You
seemed to enjoy the perks of the job.’ The slackness of his eyes hinted at a
lack of reason.
His
jumper gathered up against her.
‘The
keys are still on the kitchen table if you want them.’
Nancy’s
mouth closed to a firm seam. The bag of rags crinkled as his chest pushed
against it. ‘Please don’t do this, Nora,’ he breathed.
Vince’s
crutched figure emerged at the foot of the stairs behind him. Beneath shadowed
brow-bones, his eyes happened to direct a glower. Sensing another presence,
Henry’s eyes shifted from hers. His upper lip canted in a nonchalant simper. He
feigned a carefree shrug before moving from her and disappearing into the
meeting room.
Nancy’s
cheeks burned at how the encounter could be misconstrued. Without looking at
Vince, she continued towards the surveillance room. In the enclosure, the
after-burn lingered. Her venture into the kitchen afforded her the sight of
Henry’s land rover passing the window. The keys remained on the table.
