Classic Novel
Chapter 65
Chapter 65
“Ross, when you were saying if there was anything you could do….” All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.
“Of course….”
“Could you put some food together. Light easy finger food. Something appetising. Hospital food is….”
“No problem Mr Haswell. Leave me with it.”
A couple of hours later, Ross has performed a minor miracle. “I know you said finger-food, but they
need something solid inside them. But I’ve put it all in individual containers, so it will be easy to eat.”
“That’s perfect. Thank you.”
“If there’s anything else, just call me.”
“We will.”
“And tell Charlotte and Michael that we’re all thinking of them.”
“We’ll do that.”
Carrying Ross’ food offerings, we go to James’ room, then hesitate uncertainly at the door.
There is no sign of Michael.
James is still lying there, eyes closed, lost to the world. A monitor pings at regular intervals. Charlotte is
there. She’s not noticed us, sitting by the bed with her back turned. Holding his hand, she kisses the
fingers, talking quietly to him.
“…. I know you always worried about being older than I am…. But I still thought we were going to have
years and years together…. Now…. What am I supposed to do? With you like this? I love Michael too,
but it’s supposed to be the three of us. Don’t leave me, Master. Please don’t leave me….”
And the sobs come again, racking her body as she shakes and weeps over him.
Oh, God….
How long can this go on?
What can I do?
What can I do?
Elizabeth wraps her arms around her, I hold her hands. But it’s not us she needs or wants.
There’s a hissed curse. I turn. It’s Michael, hair damp and tousled holding a wet towel
“Oh, Charlotte. I thought you were asleep….” Then to me. “Gotta use the bathroom sometime….”
“We brought food for you,” says Elizabeth.
Michael shoots her a grateful look. “That’s great, thanks. Charlotte, c’mon, eat.” He unclips a container
and fragrant steam rises.
“Ross cooked it. It’s his mother’s recipe chicken-casserole….” says Elizabeth.
Charlotte turns her face away, her mouth working, looking ready to vomit. “I’m not hungry.”
Michael spoons some into a dish, pushing it to her. “Yes, you are. You just think you’re not.”
She ignores it, but he’s not taking no for an answer. “Charlotte, eat.” He purses his lips for a moment
then, “Charlotte. James would want you to eat it.”
Her eyes shift to his, then to the bowl. Slowly she forks out a small amount and puts it in her mouth.
She chews and chews, eventually swallowing hard before it goes down.
She can’t go on like this….
I catch Michael’s eye, nodding him out to the corridor. He wavers, looking at Charlotte uncertainly, but
Elizabeth says, “I’ll stay here.”
He nods, blinking hard, then follows me out to the corridor.
“Michael, she’s not going to stay the course like that. For that matter, you’re exhausted yourself.”
“It’s my job to support her in this.”
“And who’s supporting you?”
He doesn’t reply, simply folding his arms and looking away.
Change the subject….
“Michael, when the ambulance crew were treating him, when the fibrillation failed, they asked you for
permission to inject adrenaline. They said it’s risky.”
His arms fold more tightly, and he nods a short curt nod.
“You know more about this than me. Why was the adrenaline risky?”
His words are slow, his breath almost shuddering. “It’s unreliable. It can result in brain damage. All that
business you see in the movies, adrenaline straight into the heart, it’s rubbish. A Hollywood myth.
Adrenaline is dangerous….”
Jeez….
He continues…. “Right now….” He looks me in the eye. “…. it’s my personal nightmare. That he does
wake up and it's not James anymore.”
Christ….
“Does…. Charlotte know this?”
“I doubt it very much. I've not said anything. And I'd appreciate it if you don't.”
“No, of course not.”
What can I offer…?
He needs a break….
“Michael, you’re more than welcome to use the beach house again. I know your mountain home isn’t
really fit for use yet….”
“And it may still be unsafe to go back there,” he points out. “Until we know for sure that Klempner’s
organisation has been dismantled.”
Oh, crap….
“And besides,” he continues, then baulks for a moment before speaking, “Richard, it's a matter of plain
fact that Charlotte has always loved James more than me. He was her first and he brought me into all
this, at least partly, so that Charlotte would have support as he grew older. So that she wouldn’t be left
bereft. That’s my role in this, to support her. I wouldn’t leave her alone now, even if I wanted to.”
“And what about you?” I ask. “Don’t your feelings matter? The two of you, you and James are very
close, unlikely friends though you might seem.”
He shrugs. “The point is that it is the Three of us. And we’ll stick it out as long as there are three of us.”
What am I supposed to say to that?
Nothing….
“You think we should get her sedated?” I suggest. “At least away from here? It can’t be doing her any
good, seeing him like that.”
Arms still folded, he shakes his head, lips pressed to a stubborn line. “I don’t think sedation is the
answer. Whatever happens, she’s going to have to deal with it. I think it’s better just to have the people
she loves around her.” He gives me a long look. “As for taking her away; I don’t think you’d get her out
of there with a bulldozer….”
There is a rustle and he turns. “Beth! You’ve left her alone?”
Elizabeth steps back, holding up pacifying hands. “She’s asleep.”
But Michael, normally so easy-going, flushes red, brushing past her and back into the room.
And Charlotte is there, asleep as Elizabeth said. The separate bed I had brought in for them is
disturbed, but she is in with James, lying curled up close to him, her face in the nook of his neck, one
hand resting on his cheek.
Michael sighs, rubbing at his nose. “At least she’s sleeping,” he mutters.
A doctor appears at the door. As he sees Charlotte, surprise and reproof battle across his face before
settling to resignation.
“You want us to get her out of there?” asks Michael.
The doctor takes the clipboard hanging on the edge of the bed, looking at it briefly, then shrugs.
“Strictly, I should say yes, but on the other hand, if he can feel or hear anything, I don’t know of a better
way to remind a man what he has to live for.”
*****