The Heart's Invisible Furies

I hung up the phone and reached for my jacket as Ignac appeared in the doorway. “What is it?” he asked. “Is it your friend?”

I nodded. “Bastiaan says he’s near the end. I need to see him before he dies.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I thought about it for a moment and appreciated the gesture but shook my head. “There’s no point,” I said. “You’ll only be left waiting outside with nothing to do. And besides, Bastiaan will be there for me. You stay here with Emily. Or, you know, tell her to go home and stay here on your own.”

I made my way toward the door and he followed me quickly. “Nothing’s decided, you know,” he said. “About Dublin, I mean. The offer’s there, that’s all. Emily wants to go, but I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“We can talk about this later,” I said. “I’ve got to go.”

He nodded and I ran downstairs, hailing a cab on the street, and within about fifteen minutes found myself stepping out of the elevator on the seventh floor to find Bastiaan waiting for me.

“Hey,” I said as he looked up. “How is he?”

He nodded toward the seats in the waiting room and we sat down. “He’s dying,” he said, reaching out and placing a hand on top of my own. “His CD4 count is as low as I’ve ever seen. He’s got pneumonia and his internal organs are failing. We’ve made him as comfortable as we can but there’s really nothing more that we can do for him now. It’s only a matter of time. I wasn’t sure he’d even make it till you got here.”

I felt a great burst of grief building inside myself and struggled to contain my emotions. I had known this was coming over the last few days, of course, but had had little time to prepare myself.

“Can I call Alice?” I asked. “Bring the phone to him?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve asked him and he doesn’t want it.”

“But maybe if he hears her voice—”

“Cyril, no. It’s his life. It’s his death. It’s his choice.”

“All right,” I said. “Is there anyone in there with him now?”

“Shaniqua,” he said. “She said she’d stay with him till you got here.”

I made my way toward Room 703 and tapped quickly on the door before pushing it open. Julian was lying on his back in the bed, his breathing heavy, and when Shaniqua saw me she stood up.

“He drifts in and out,” she said quietly. “You want me to stay here with you until it’s over?”

“No,” I said. “I’d prefer if you left us alone. But thanks.”

She nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind her, and I sat down on the chair next to the bed, watching him as his breath came in short bursts. He was so skinny that he was almost frightening to look at but somewhere beneath that scarred face lay the boy that I had once known, the boy that I had loved, the boy in the ornamental chair in Dartmouth Square, the boy whose friendship I had betrayed. I reached out to him, taking his hand in mine, and the sensation of his paper-thin skin, clammy and tender against my palm, unsettled me. He mumbled something and, after a moment, he opened his eyes and smiled.

“Cyril,” he said. “Did you forget something?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were just here. You just left.”

I shook my head. “That was a few days ago, Julian. I’ve come back to see you.”

“Oh. I thought it was earlier. Did you see Behan?”

“Who?”

“Brendan Behan. He’s over there by the bar. We should get him a pint in.”

I looked away for a moment and waited until I had full control of my emotions.

“We’re not in the Palace Bar anymore,” I said quietly. “We’re not in Dublin. We’re in New York. You’re in hospital.”

“That’s right” he said, as if he was simply humoring me.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Julian? Anything I can do to help you?”

He blinked a few times and looked back at me with a little more awareness in his eyes. “What was I just saying?” he asked me. “Was I talking nonsense?”

“You’re confused, that’s all.”

“I seem to have moments of clarity and moments when I don’t know what’s happening. It’s a strange thing to know that you’re living your last hour on earth.”

“Don’t say that—”

“It’s true, though. I can feel it. And Dr. Van den Bergh said as much to me earlier. He’s the one, isn’t he? Your boyfriend?”

I nodded, glad that he didn’t sound as if he was putting quotation marks around the word this time. “That’s him,” I said. “Bastiaan. He’s outside if you need him.”

“I don’t need him,” he said. “He’s done all he can. He seems like a good man.”

“He is.”

“Too good for you.”

“Probably.”

He tried to laugh but the effort caused him a lot of pain and I saw a terrible expression of suffering cross his face.

“Take it easy,” I said. “Just relax.”

“I’ve been lying in this bed for weeks,” he said. “How much more relaxed can I get?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t talk.”

“All I have left is talk. If I don’t speak, then I might as well give up. I’m glad you came, really I am. Did I insult you last time you were here?”

“I deserved it,” I told him.

“Probably. But I’m glad you came back. There is something you can do for me. After I’m gone, I mean.”

“Of course,” I said. “Anything you want.”

“I need you to tell Alice.”

I closed my eyes, my heart sinking in my chest. This was one thing I really didn’t want to do.

“There’s still time,” I said. “Time for you to talk to her.”

“I don’t want that. I want you to tell her. After I’m gone.”

“Are you sure I’m the right person for that?” I asked him. “It’s been fourteen years, after all. I don’t think the first time I speak to her since our wedding day should be to call to tell her that…to tell her…”

“Someone has to do it,” he insisted. “That’s your penance. Tell her that I didn’t want her to see me like this, but that you were by my side at the end and I was thinking of her. There’s a diary in the locker drawer next to you. You’ll find her number in there.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I said, feeling the tears starting to roll down my cheeks.

“If it’s not you, then it will be some anonymous Garda knocking on her door,” he said. “And that’s not what I want. And that’s not what you want. He won’t be able to tell her how it ended, how I felt about her, but you will. I need you to tell her that she was the best person I ever knew. And to tell Liam that my life would have been a lot emptier without his presence in it. That I loved them both and that I’m sorry for all of this. Will you do that for me, Cyril? Please, I’ve never asked you for anything but I’m asking you for this. And you can’t deny a dying man his last wish.”

“All right,” I said. “If it’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Then I promise I’ll do it.”

We sat in silence for a long time, punctuated only by the occasional expression of pain from Julian as he twisted uncomfortably in the bed.

“Will you tell me about him?” I asked finally.

“About who?”

“About Liam. About my son.”

“He’s not your son,” he said, shaking his head. “Biologically, yes. But that’s the only way.”

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