Fatal Choices

by Anne Morgellyn

  ‘We’ll talk later,’ I said. ‘About, you know.’

  ‘If the phone goes, should I answer it?’

  ‘No, there’s no need; it will pick up after five rings. Whoever it is can leave a message. I’ve done your bed. It’s quiet in there.’

  ‘I’m all right here for now.’

  I went to dry Nicky and comb his hair. He was fighting me off all the time and I was getting stressed. He wanted to sit with Drew but I told him we had grown-up things to discuss.

  ‘Like Daddy and Naomi?’

  My jaw dropped: ‘Of course not. Do you remember the story of The Good Samaritan?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes, you do. You had it at Kindergarten with Mrs Kingsley. I know you did because she said you’d put your hand up to ask a question about the story. The Good Samaritan helped a man, a stranger, who’d been robbed and hurt and needed help. I don’t know Drew very well, but he’s from England and he hasn’t any friends here and he needs to rest because he’s ill.’

  ‘He looks funny.’

  ‘That’s because he’s ill.’

  ‘Will I catch it?’

  ‘No. It’s not something we can catch. Don’t give me a hard time, Nicky. Daddy will be here tomorrow. You can stay up with him till nine o clock. You can watch TV, or go for a fondue or something.’

  ‘Will Drew be here when Daddy comes?’

  ‘I expect so. He needs a good rest. Daddy might be able to help him.’

  ‘Does Daddy like him?’

  ‘He hasn’t met him. He knows about him though. I went to see Drew play in his band when you and Daddy went up the mountain on the chocolate train. Do you remember?’

  ‘You didn’t like Naomi.’

  ‘Naomi isn’t here now. She’s gone.’

  ‘Drew won’t hurt you, will he Mummy?’

  ‘Of course not. Drew isn’t like Naomi.’

  ‘I don’t think Daddy will like him.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because he looks funny and he smells.’

  ‘That’s not nice. You shouldn’t say things like that about people, even if you think them’

  ‘Why?’’

  ‘Because you shouldn’t. How would you like it if people said that about you?’

  ‘But it’s true. He smells like Boo and Poo’s cage before you clean out the poo and wee. When are they coming, mummy? You said they could come on the plane when we got a department. I don’t think they want to come to Geneva now because they’re Kiwis. Can we get a hamster?’

  ‘We’ll see, Go and play on your Game-Boy for a bit and I’ll come in soon to tuck you up. If you play me up tonight, I won’t let you stay up with Daddy tomorrow.’

  ‘Daddy always lets me stay up,’ he said airily. ‘I like Daddy better than you.’

  Drew had eaten all his soup, which I thought was a good sign, until he asked to use the bathroom. I heard him retching and hoped that Nicky wouldn’t hear him.

  ‘That’s better,’ he wheezed, settling himself down on the sofa again. ‘By the way, your husband rang.’

  ‘Did he leave a message?’

  ‘He started one. He was asking where you where. I thought I’d best answer it. He doesn’t beat about the bush, does he?’

  ‘He can be very blunt sometimes. I hope he wasn’t off with you.’

  ‘He has every right to know who I am. Any man would be off if he rang up his wife and another man answered the phone. I told him you were seeing to the lad and I’d get you to call him back.’

  ‘I’ll call him later. Have you got to take any medication?’

  ‘Only paracetamol. They told me to keep taking it. I can alternate it with aspirin every few hours. Cheap and cheerful.’

  ‘Is that all you’ve got? Is the pain very bad?’

  ‘Oh no, I wouldn’t say it was bad. It’s just like an ache in my stomach and chest. My back aches all the time too. It’s wearing me down. I know it’s going to get bad.’

  ‘I am so sorry, Drew. You looked so well in the summer. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you in Paris.’

  He grimaced. ‘I started to feel ill a couple of weeks after I got there. I think it was the change in season. There was only cold water for a bit in my room, until they sorted it out. Algerians. There’s all sorts living in Belleville. It reminded me of Southall. You should have seen the khasi. Talk about the black hole of Calcutta.’

  ‘Chas might be able to prescribe something.’

  ‘I don’t think he likes the idea of me stopping here.’

  ‘He’s a doctor. He took an oath to help people like you.’

  ‘The best thing you can do for me is give me seven thousand euros to see the other doctor. I’m not asking you to come with me. I’m not asking you to agree with it or anything. I just need the money so I can go and be done with it all. I know they won’t give me a discount.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Why should they? It’s a business.’

  ‘It’s not supposed to be for profit. That’s against the law.’

  ‘I thought it was legal here in Switzerland.’

  ‘Not if it’s done for profit.’

  ‘I don’t give a shit about profit. Pardon my French.’ He coughed into his hand. ‘I feel bad about asking you for more money, for a lot more money, but you can see the way I’m fixed.’ He heaved himself up, but struggled to get his balance.

  ‘Where’s your stick?’ I asked, rushing over to him.

  ‘I must have left it outside.’

  ‘And your guitar?’

  ‘I sold it to pay for the train fare. I won’t be needing it where I’m going.’

  ‘Please don’t talk like that. Hold on to me. Your bed’s through here.’

  He panted as we walked the few steps to the spare room. His breath was making me nauseous. I helped him on to the sofa-bed and tried to move away, but he wouldn’t let go of my hand. He pulled me close to him and gazed into my eyes. His eyes were red and blurry. I felt them boring into my soul.

  ‘Go and get that money for me. Please, Louise. I’ll watch out for the boy.’

  ‘I can’t do that, I’m sorry.’ I wrenched my hand away and retreated a few steps. He was really scaring me now.

  ‘Have you no family back in England?’

  ‘The closest to a family I’ve got is Eileen’s niece. Eileen was my lady-friend. She got run over.’

  ‘Yes, I remember you telling me.’

  ‘Her niece is a good-hearted woman, but she’s got her hands full with five kids. She took me in before for a couple of weeks, but I can’t go back there. One of the kids was sleeping on the floor.’

  ‘Just take it one day at a time, Drew. There’s always tomorrow.’

  ‘And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps on this petty pace from day to day ... And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.’ He spluttered and coughed, leaning to the side and trying to pull the duvet over him. I stood there, frozen. I didn’t know how to help him. I didn’t know what to do.

  He wiped his mouth on his hand. ‘A poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage – he’s like me and the Strat. I can’t remember it right.’

  ‘It’s from Macbeth, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah. It was after his wife died. She killed herself.’

  ‘Drew ...’

  ‘It’s OK, Louise. Night, night. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  28

  I went into my bedroom and called Androssoff. He had been lying in wait for me.

  ‘Before you start, Chas,’ I said, ‘I want you to hear me out. He’s a very sick man. He turned up here in a terrible state. What could I do?’

  ‘Where’s Nicky?’

  ‘Where do you think? He’s in bed. I’ve explained that we have a guest who’s ill and needs to stay with us.’

  ‘By stay with us, you mean what exactly?’

  ‘He wanted me to give him money to pay the Charon Clinic. He wants to try again. I can’t let him do that, Chas.’

 
‘I hope he’s not been coming out with all this morbid talk in front of Nicky.’

  ‘Nicky was showing him his dinosaurs. I was getting him ready for bed when you called earlier.’

  ‘You should have called me earlier,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the early flight tomorrow. I’ll be with you by eleven.’

  ‘There’s no need to do that. Nicky will be at school. Please don’t kick off in front of Drew. He’s a very sick man.’

  ‘I’m not going to kick off at anybody. Jesus Christ, Louise, if he’s as sick as you say he is, maybe I should take a look at him.’

  ‘That’s what I was hoping. I mean, he can’t have exhausted all possibilities. There must be palliative treatment still available to him, drugs and things. I can’t believe how much he’s deteriorated in what – it can’t be more than three months.’

  ‘Has he got medical insurance?’

  ‘I didn’t ask. I think it’s very unlikely.’

  ‘If he hasn’t got insurance, he’ll be up shit creek in Switzerland.’

  ‘He saw doctors in France. He was referred there. They did tests.’

  ‘Wouldn’t he be better off in England?’

  ‘He has no family. He’s homeless and broke. They gave him no hope. It doesn’t make sense because the psychiatrist he saw after they caught him in our car told him he had a good prognosis.’

  ‘They can’t be precise. It could be weeks, months, even years in some cases that are described as terminal. All that means is that the disease is very advanced. They can’t cure it but it doesn’t necessarily mean it can’t be halted. Sometimes chronic disease goes into spontaneous remission.’

  ‘I don’t think so, nor will you when you see him. I think he was misinformed by the psychiatrist.’

  ‘Maybe they were giving him some breathing space so he could get out his guitar and have a jamming session at Montreux.’

  ‘You’re all heart, Chas.’

  ‘You could just give him the money and let him get on with it. Take it out of Vrubin’s money. Buz would have understood. He took the one-way ticket too.’

  ‘I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.’

  ‘Take one of those pills I got you and sleep on it. There’s nothing you can do about it tonight. I’ll be with you in the morning.’

  Before I turned in, I looked outside for Drew’s stick. It had fallen on the gravel and I hoped Rodolfo hadn’t noticed it if he had been out late. The garden lights came on at dusk and the paths were very well lit. I took the stick indoors and stood it against Drew’s rucksack which was still in the hall, unopened. The door to the spare room was closed but I could hear that rough and laboured breath, that deathly rattle. I dreaded waking up and hearing it in the dark, and I dreaded waking up and not hearing it. I couldn’t cope with this. I needed Androssoff, but since he wasn’t here, I took two of the tablets.

  Nicky woke me up, dangling the watch his father had given him over my face. He decided he liked it after the kite came back, and had started wearing it for school.

  ‘Mummy, look, the big hand’s on twelve, the little hand’s on nine.’

  I sprang up. ‘Why didn’t you wake me before? This is your daddy’s fault for giving me sleeping pills.’

  I threw on the sweat pants and the hooded top I wore around the house. Nicky had dressed himself.

  ‘Don’t shout at Dad. I don’t like it when you shout at Dad.’

  I was scooting around the apartment, looking for my keys. They were on the kitchen table, next to a half-finished bowl of milk and cereal.

  ‘You got your own breakfast? Good boy.’ I would have to have mine when I had taken him to school. I thought I would pick up some croissants, though pastry might unsettle Drew’s stomach. I hoped Androssoff was on the plane; I’d told him there was no need to come early, but I was completely out of my depth in this situation. He would know what to do about Drew, and he knew how to handle Rodolfo – the Naomi incident proved that. I prayed that Rodolfo would not sniff out Drew’s presence in the villa until Androssoff had a chance to speak to him.

  ‘We’ll have to run,’ I told Nicky. ‘We’ll run across the park. I’ll race you.’

  Mr Chocolate had to come out and unlock the gate for us. He was a curly-haired young man in cords and a hand-knitted sweater.

  ‘Bonjour, Madame. Salut, Nicolas.’

  ‘Salut, Monsieur Nestle.’

  I was panting. I knew my hair was sticking up. I hadn’t had time to tame it and I was burning hot after the race. ‘Bonjour ... I’m so sorry ... I overslept.’

  ‘We’ve got a guest,’ Nicky told his teacher. ‘Il s’appelle Drew. Il est malade.’

  I was so pleased to hear him speaking French, I forgot the croissants. When I got back to the apartment, I noticed Drew’s door was open, letting a foul miasma of sickness into the hall. I went in and opened the window. There was no sign of his having used the bathroom, and he didn’t appear to have eaten anything. He must have gone out for some fresh air. It was only five minutes to the lake. If he could manage to walk here from the station, he could certainly get to the waterside. I hoped he hadn’t gone round the back of the villa where Rodolfo could see him from his bedroom window.

  He had left another note. The pencil from the memo pad had gone missing so he had used one of Nicky’s felt tips. He wrote in capitals this time; the words were unsteady like his gait.

  SORRYLOUISEGOTTOGO

  He had taken his rucksack and stick, but nothing else. My purse was in the pocket of my parka and there were no valuable objects in our apartment. I was disgusted with myself for thinking like Rodolfo. It was callous and mean-spirited, as was my moment of relief. Drew had solved my dilemma by going away, but this was not a day for a man in his condition to be going anywhere. It was going to snow.

  I made myself some coffee, agonising over what to do next. The moral course of action was to search for him and help him, but I had been given an easy way out – to let him go. I thought I’d call Dr Schlosser for advice, but as I was dialling the number, the obvious solution came to me: I would call Drew himself. A musical ring-tone blared in the study. His phone was on the floor by the side of the bed. The battery was nearly out of charge but I managed to open the message box. It was empty, apart from a very recent text which hadn’t been opened. Good morning Drew. Would you care to come for Christmas? Arun. I tried to text back but there was no credit on the phone. I made a note of the number, it was a +44 code – the text had come from the UK.

  Again I felt that guilty relief, the feeling I had when I read Drew’s message to me: SORRYLOUISEGOTTOGO. He had a friend in Britain, a friend close enough to invite him for Christmas. He might be on his way there now – but then he hadn’t opened the message. Had he deliberately left his phone here because he didn’t want any further contact with his friends or had he left it by mistake, in which case he would be back for it. His imprint was still on the mattress and the sheets were infused with that awful miasma of sweat and decay. I wished him peace and an end to his troubles, but I hoped he wouldn’t come to me again.

  At last I saw Androssoff coming through the gate with his hold-all and laptop case. I ran to the door, reaching out to him. He dropped the hold-all and pulled me into his arms, the lap-top case still swinging from his shoulder. Then he kissed me deeply on the mouth. We had not kissed like that for ages.

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said.

  ‘Have you forgotten our visitor?’

  ‘And here’s me thinking I just got past first base. Where is he?’ He went to look in the spare room. ‘There’s no one here, Louise. Why is the window wide open. You know you should only use the ventilation window when it’s cold, otherwise the heating won’t work. I could do with a second breakfast. Is there any bacon?’

  ‘He’s gone. He’s taken all his things but he left his phone. Someone invited him for Christmas but he didn’t open the text. I opened it. I wish you could have seen him.’

  ‘Maybe he didn’t want to see me. I was talking
to a Swiss physician on the plane. It seems the Swiss have got some excellent palliative care systems. Geneva’s unit is apparently outstanding.’

  ‘Did he tell you that?’

  ‘It was a she. A lady-doctor. She’s been doing a rotation at Tommy’s. She lives in Lausanne.’

  ‘She wasn’t my type, Louise. Come here.’

  I couldn’t say anything. I had two tongues in my mouth.

  It was nearly time to go and fetch Nicky but I couldn’t shift myself. I lay there in a state of exultation because of what had just happened with Chas. Drew was gone. His Doppelganger, Androssoff, was gone too. He had taken Naomi with him. It was Chas who came back into the bedroom and started getting dressed. He looked over at me lying there. I looked at him, unable to say anything.

  ‘I’ll go and fetch the boy.’

  I was still lying there when he came back with Nicky. I pulled the sheet up to my neck so he wouldn’t see I had no clothes on.

  ‘Why are you in bed, Mummy?’

  ‘I was just having a little rest.’

  ‘Where’s Drew?’

  ‘We don’t know, sweetheart. He left without saying where he was going.’

  ‘He’s probably gone for a think,’ Chas said. ‘Some people are like that. They want to be on their own so they can think about what to do next.’

  ‘Dad said I can have a hamster. Will you get a hamster too, Mummy, then they can be friends?’

  ‘I think hamsters like to be on their own Nick,’ Chas said. ‘It needs to be an only one, like you. Unless you get a brother or sister.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll be getting one of those,’ I told him. ‘You can’t have a hamster now. Maybe in spring when it gets warmer. Hamsters hibernate in winter. You wouldn’t see it. It would be asleep all the time.’

  ‘I could get it out and play with it. It could sleep in my room.’

  ‘Not now.’

  ‘I want a hamster. Dad said I could. I hate you.’

  ‘Time out. Off you go.’

  Chas pushed the door to after him. ‘I shouldn’t have said he could have one. I’m sorry. You’re very flushed, Louise.’