He slides it across. I open it up and take a look at the court order. I’ve seen them before and know it’s the real thing.
“I don’t ever want to see you again,’ he says.
‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry’
‘Yeah. Lawyers hear it all the time, right? Everybody’s sorry after the event.’
I don’t answer him. He stares at me for a few more seconds, and I can tell he’s thinking about how life would be different for him right now if he’d killed me.
‘Worse,’ I say.
‘What?’
‘It’d be worse. Trust me. You did the right thing.’
He nods, seeming to understand, then turns and walks away.
I push the newspaper aside, finish my lunch and head down to the car.
chapter forty-seven
The traffic out near the care home increases a little on weekends, but it’s not like visiting hours at the hospital. The hospital is a temporary thing. Relatives and friends don’t mind making the visit because they only have to go a few times. Out here it’s permanent. The visits don’t fit in as often as they ought to in the schedule of day to day life. The care home is too depressing, even with its brightly coloured artworks and flowers. There’s no covering up the pain and misery here.
I sit with my wife and hold her warm hand. She looks out at the rain but doesn’t see it. It’s hard to imagine that a person doesn’t look forward to certain types of weather. Sun, rain, storms: they don’t even register.
‘Things are getting better,’ I tell her. ‘I’ve stopped drinking, but it’s hard, I’ll admit that. It’s hard to describe. Without the drink I feel like a part of me is missing. I feel like I need to have one more just to say goodbye to it. One more won’t hurt, right?
Just to say goodbye. I think of you all the time. I wish things were different, but I want you to know that you’re helping me get through this. You’re the reason I’m getting my life back on track.’
I tell her this, but I don’t tell her that it’s only been a day.
Maybe in a week my speech will be different. Maybe I will be able to take that drink to say goodbye and not get pulled into the abyss. Maybe.
Back downstairs, Carol Hamilton is behind the desk.
‘It’s good that you’re starting to come back,’ she says.
“I miss her.’
“I know you do. It’s an awful situation, and it’s worse for you than it is for her. I just wish there was more I could do.’
“I know. I make the same wish every day’
She doesn’t answer, and I let the silence fall down around us like a shroud, letting us think our own thoughts on how life could be different.
“I hate to ask,’ I say, snapping her out of it, ‘but have you got a computer I can quickly borrow? And a photocopier?’
“I … umm …’
‘It will only take me a minute or two. I promise.’
‘that’s fine, Theo. Follow me.’
She leads me into an office that has more photos of family and drawings from children on the walls than anything else. There are so many personal items that it’s easy to see the people who work here need to stay grounded to a different kind of reality, one where the bad things that happen in life haven’t extended to their own families. I’m about to play around with the computer and photocopier when I spot a manual typewriter. I can’t remember the last time I saw one.
‘One of the nurses,’ Carol says, ‘is still very old school.’ She doesn’t explain any further and she doesn’t need to.
I wind the court order into the typewriter, and type in the priest’s name and location of the bank in the provided space.
Then I sign it with some unidentifiable scribble. Carol Hamilton watches me the entire time but doesn’t ask what I’m doing. She doesn’t point out that I’ve gone over the two minutes I promised her I’d be. When I’m done, I thank her for her time, and she does something different for once — she puts one hand on my shoulder and, with the other, grabs my hand and tells me not
to give up hope. I’m not sure whether she means for Bridget or myself.
I already have the car started and in gear when she comes out the doors and waves me down.
‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ she says, ‘and you need to understand that. But it’s still something you should see.’
‘What is it?’
‘Come with me,’ she says, and I kill the engine and follow her back inside and upstairs.