by Limey Lady
And he looked dreadful. His face had lost its normal colour and turned a sickly green-tinted grey. His lips had dried and were cracked and flaking. Penny was holding his half-clawed free hand, which feebly tried to grip back.
‘Poor Geoff,’ she said. ‘How has it ever come to this?’
‘This weakness was the problem last night,’ the doctor continued. ‘Normally the solution would be to put Mr Rodgers onto a ventilator, but I was afraid if I did that, he would get still weaker. Then he might not be strong enough ever to come off it again. That is a risk with the nature of this condition, you see. I have had to make everyone aware that, if this situation arises again, he must not be put on to a ventilator under any circumstances.’
Penny gulped. ‘Do not resuscitate, you mean?’
‘No, I most definitely do not mean that extreme measure. The instruction is to not use a ventilator. If the need arises, I will find another way to help him. Manually, if that is what the situation dictates. In the meantime, to prevent the need from arising, as well as the antibiotics I have arranged for physiotherapy visits every two hours, with their Cough Assist Machine. This will clear his lungs and keep them clear until the infection is gone. Then we will start the treatment I have already described to you.’
He hesitated before leaving. ‘I am not a religious man, Mrs Rodgers, so I would like to believe we kept your husband alive last night. But maybe someone up there wasn't ready for him. Perhaps I am being too fanciful. Whatever; I saw him last night and I see him now. And already I see the improvement. I honestly cannot say for the CIDP, that battle is still to be finished, but this infection is not going to beat us.’
Penny sat and blinked back tears after the doctor had gone. A bit of positive feedback at last, she told herself. Not much, but better than the usual, endless procession of bad news. And it’s so, so much better than it looked last night.
Geoff was weakly squeezing her hand. She had to remove his oxygen mask and lean right over him to hear what he wanted to tell her.
‘It wasn't the doctors who kept me alive,’ he said, thinly and painfully slowly. ‘It wasn't God, either. It was Samantha who sent me back.’
‘Geoff darling, Samantha passed away a long time ago.’
‘I know that. I haven’t lost my mind. I’ve lost everything else, perhaps, but not my mind.’
‘Of course you haven’t.’ Penny smiled as bravely as she could.
‘I saw her last night,’ Geoff went on. ‘We were outside the gates of . . . of somewhere or other. She sent me back.’
‘Oh. I see.’
‘Do you? I can tell you don’t believe me. Or maybe you think I dreamt it and I'm so useless I can't even die.’
‘Don't say that, darling. You're not going to die. In fact I'm getting the girls to come up and see you. Jamie will come too. We'll all gather around and thank the Lord for keeping you with us.’
‘Can't you see how much better it would have been if I had died?’ Geoff had a good old splutter and wheeze before carrying on. ‘What does the future hold for me apart from sod all? The new treatment has no chance of working, so what then? Then the hospital is going to need my bed, so they'll send me away to some home for basket cases. We'll probably have to sell the house to pay for the home.’
‘There isn't going to be any home,’ she said firmly. ‘I'm going to look after you.’
‘Twenty-four hours a day for twenty or thirty years?’
‘If that's what it is, then that's what it is.’
‘You're crazy; you should divorce me now. Get rid while you can.’
‘My vow was for life, not until the going got tough.’
‘You can't look after me twenty-four hours a day.’
‘Let's not even think about that until we've tried the treatment.’
‘There’s no hope in that.’
‘It’s fifty-fifty it will stop the awful thing. And five to ten per cent it will turn it right round. Weren’t you always in the top five to ten per cent in everything you did?’
‘It’s not an A-level, Penny.’
‘It is from where I’m standing. If you put your faith in God and try your hardest, you’ll beat it. I know you will.’
Geoff smiled at her for the first time in weeks. He still looked dreadful but the smile, thin as it was, injected a little life back into him.
‘There's no beating you on this, is there?’
‘No, you've no chance whatsoever.’
‘You've got to let me free you, then.’
‘Free me?’
‘Yes, I free you from your vow; the one about being faithful.’
Penny could feel her own smile faltering.
‘I don’t know why you keep coming back to that. Anyone would think I’m some sort of . . . well, some sort of maniac.’
‘I’m just thinking about your happiness, that’s all. If God’s decided I deserve twenty or thirty years of celibacy, it can’t possibly be at your expense. You only deserve goods things.’
‘Don't be silly.’
‘I'm not being silly, I’m being practical. I've let you down too often before. And this time there's no return. So there; I give you your freedom.’
‘I don't want it. And I'm not even considering it until you've had that treatment. And I won't need it then, because you'll be cured.’
‘I wish I had your belief.’
‘Trust me,’ Penny lied. ‘I have a good feeling about this. And by the way, I think the doctor’s right; you do look much better than you did just yesterday.’
*****
Rick was still laughing as Didier approached. Didier had been invaluable on this job, smoothing a million minor things on top of all the major translating. Now he looked concerned and almost furtive.
‘Everyone is drunk,’ he began. ‘The stores have been broken open.’
That wasn't big news. Although prisoners had been in short supply the palace storerooms had been stuffed with goodies. Colonel K had immediately donated everything immediately consumable to all his “valiant redeemers”. Well, almost everything; he’d taken care to keep Mbobo's five Russian whores for himself.
At the time Rick had debated with himself about the colonel’s behaviour, not liking early indications, finally deciding to let it go. The last thing he needed was his teammates trying to rescue a handful of ex-Commie tarts (none of them seemingly desperate to be saved). Or fighting to get in the queue, which was just as likely.
‘That's what happens at a time like this,’ he said to Didier. ‘I'm keeping an eye on my guys, in case they have a go for Mbobo’s Xbox.’
‘Colonel K is the worst.’ Didier looked around cautiously before going on. ‘He is telling everybody he was insulted by being last off the boat. He is saying he was kept back at gunpoint from leading at the front of the attack.’
‘That's a lie.’ Judd had appeared out of nowhere. ‘I thought I was going to have to use a gun to get him off the fucking boat. He only got lively when he realized there wasn’t any opposition.’
‘I know,’ said Didier. ‘I saw. But now he is saying differently. He has closed the port and the airfield. He made me speak to London, to translate his threats.’
‘Phil,’ Rick said, ‘phone home.’
‘Already gone,’ Phil replied.
‘He made me say he wants global coverage,’ Didier continued. ‘He wants the BBC World Service to say he singlehandedly led the assault on the barracks and palace. That he personally killed Mbobo in a fight to the death.’
‘The usual bull.’ said Judd.
‘He also made me tell them the deal was off until all this happens.’
‘What deal?’ Rick asked sharply.
‘I do not know. But you men are to stay here as hostages. And you . . .’ Didier nodded at Judd, ‘you are staying permanently.’
‘Like fuck!’ Judd exploded.
Phil was back. ‘Rick, you're wanted.’
Rick listened and tried to argue but couldn't disobey a direct order, not in
a situation like this. He stood under the beating sun in front of the whole team, giving them the heads up while fresh gunfire broke out in the courtyard.
‘We're not allowed to drop the slimy bastard, we've to leave him alone and get out before we really do get taken hostage. That includes you, Judd; you'll be pleased to hear. They've ruled out sea and air, so we're tabbing it.’
‘Tabbing it?’ Beefy sounded incredulous. ‘Do they know how big this fucking dump is?’
‘Yes, they do. They know everything there is to know about it and its bordering dumps. That's why we have to go east, not north or south.’
Now it wasn't just Beefy sounding incredulous. Distance-wise, north would have been bad and south three times worse. East was un-fucking-believable. As well as east being the longest route, it was dense rainforest all the way to the mountains. And those mountains stretched along the whole border; there was no way around, they had to be gone over. Someone started whistling the theme to Mission Impossible.
‘So that's it,’ Rick resumed. ‘We've to get on with it ASAP and do our best not to kill anyone unless we absolutely have to. Otherwise we're on our own. Has anyone any questions?’
‘Yeah,’ said Phil. ‘Where can we find a dozen cheap goloks?’
*****
Nina was wearing a powder blue outfit, looking yummy as always as she sat at her desk in Vic’s outer office.
‘Hiya,’ Heather called brightly, shutting the door behind her. ‘You just want to see what I've got us from Greggs.’
‘Never mind Greggs,’ the younger woman said sternly. ‘What time do you call this?’
Heather made a show of consulting her watch. ‘Two minutes past twelve, same as everyone else. Unless there’s a new name for two minutes past twelve and I haven’t heard it yet.’
‘Tee-hee,’ went Nina, ‘how witty!’
‘What's the matter, didn't you get my email?’
‘Yes. But it said you might be a bit late; not that you'd turn up with lunch when it's time to eat it.’
Heather smiled at the sexy PA. Nina seemed peeved for some reason. She must have had a bad morning . . . unlike Heather herself; hers had been great.
‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘Something came up.’
‘So Joanna said. Although I didn't believe her until I saw that look on your face.’
‘What look?’
‘That look; the one that tells me you've been busy impaling yourself on something that came up.’
Heather laughed. ‘It took me ages to make it go down again. In fact it took much longer than I had expected. Here . . . ham and salad, as per always.’
The PA grumpily took her sandwich and went to get two coffees from the percolator.
‘Has anyone been after me?’ Heather wondered, more to make conversation than anything else.
‘Not really, only Joanna, hunting for gossip. And Victoria to confirm she'd arrived at King‘s Cross; as for everyone else . . . nothing. And don't worry; I didn't snitch on you to Victoria, even if you do deserve it.’
‘You had Joanna hunting for gossip?’ Heather laughed. ‘That’s rich. I thought she was never going to let go of her strippergram’s hose.’
‘Her strippergram,’ Nina echoed.
‘We got her a fireman. He let her . . .’
‘Heather! I do not want to know.’
‘
Is there something annoying you?’
‘Yes actually, there is. I just can't believe you've cheated on Victoria the very second she's turned her back.’
So that’s it, Heather thought. Nina was covering two roles until the new junior director’s PA started (whenever one was finally appointed!). First and foremost, however, she was Victoria’s PA. And even if Vic didn’t hobnob like the junior director did, it was suddenly obvious where her loyalties lay.
‘I think you've got the wrong end of the stick,’ she said calmly. ‘Victoria and I are not in a relationship where it's possible to cheat.’
‘Are you trying to pretend she's not your girlfriend? When the whole bank knows that she is?’
‘I'm not trying to pretend anything. Strictly between you and me, yes, she is my girlfriend, but we’re not joined at the hip.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means we’re not blindly committed. Someday things may change but, for now, we can both have as many other lovers we like, whenever we like.’
‘Huh!’ went Nina.
‘It’s the truth. I strongly suspect Victoria did a bit of impaling herself last night, if you must know. But that has no bearing on where I ended up.’
‘Huh!’ went Nina again, although with a little less conviction.
‘I don’t break promises,’ Heather said sincerely. ‘And I don’t fib. You’re right about us being girlfriends, but wrong about cheating.’
‘And Victoria will verify that, will she?’
In reply Heather fired off a text. Before she'd finished her own, highly calorific chicken tikka sandwich, Vic had responded. She glanced at the display before handing the mobile to Nina. The response said:
YES U LUCKY MARE.
Above that, Heather's original message read:
HI VIC. NINA THINX I CHEATED
COS I HAD A MAN LAST NITE.
PLSE TELL HER WE R BOTH
ALLOWED LOVERS WHEN WE
LIKE. WILL TELL U RE V MAN
WHEN U R BACK. U LL B VERY
INTERESTED.
‘Oh,’ Nina said, her cheeks blooming roses. ‘I'm sorry.’
‘I could say: Told you so! But I won’t.’
‘Heather, I really am . . .’
‘Forget it. Eat your desert instead.’
Nina took a chocolate topped éclair from the paper bag in front of her. She was about to take her first bite when their eyes met.
‘It was about the same size and shape,’ Heather said. ‘But it didn't melt in the mouth like that will.’
‘Don't . . . please; I haven't seen my boyfriend in nearly two weeks. I can hardly remember what his face looks like, never mind his willy.’
‘Playing away again, is he?’ Heather grinned. ‘And who do you think you are, moaning about going a mere two weeks? Last night’s was the first new willy I've had in years. That's why I couldn’t stop impaling myself while it was still up for more.’
‘You're as bad as a man,’ Nina said with a sniff.
‘Is that because I like sex?’ Heather chuckled. ‘I'm not going to lie and pretend that I hate it. Too many girls still think they have to do that. I've never played that silly game.’
‘There’s liking it and liking it, though.’
‘Meaning what, precisely?’
‘Meaning you emailed me at seven o’clock. Surely you haven’t been at it since then?’
‘Nina, what can I say? I’ve already told you I’m a horny tart. And it would have been rude to leave him while he was still capable.’
‘Just like a man,’ the PA repeated.
‘Are you telling me you’ve never spent a full morning in bed with your boyfriend?’
‘I haven’t, actually.’
‘Surely you have with some other boyfriend, then? You must have had a few.’
‘What do you think I’m like?’
‘Human? Meaning a human who’s fond of hard willies?’
‘I’m not fond of them for hours on end.’
‘Smile if you’re fibbing.’
Nina laughed instead. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘maybe I am. But you’re embarrassing me. I can’t seem to talk about likes and dislikes as openly as you do.’
‘Talking about sex isn't important. Talking’s just fun. Doing it's the important bit. Doing it and enjoying every last inch, of course.’
‘Éclair-sized,’ Nina said, and giggled.
‘Éclair-sized,’ Heather agreed, ‘and permanently interested. No sign of any melting anywhere.’
‘Are you seeing him again?’
‘I definitely am. We’re doing a big Saturday
night. That’ll give me all Sunday to test that unflagging interest of his.’
‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.’
‘Please do. I honestly don’t think I’ll need it, but all support is appreciated. And a day and a half will probably be enough, even for me. So Monday morning . . . I promise I won’t be late. In fact I’ll be in the office before you are.’
