‘Mr Rodgers?’
He turned to see the Irish doctor. For a moment he could not remember his name.
‘Dr Blennerhassett … I’ve just been to …”
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you.’
‘I was away. My daughter …’
‘Oh, yes, so you said. Have you seen her?’
‘Maddie? Yes, she …’
‘No, I didn’t mean your daughter. Your wife. Aren’t we all over the moon about it? You must be a happy man.’
‘Happy? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. We’re talking at cross purposes. I thought she’d died. Her room was empty.’
Blennerhassett’s face changed colour.
‘When did this happen? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I saw your wife no more than twenty minutes ago, and she was fit as a horse.’
David didn’t know what to do or think. Had Nabila been alive and died within the past few minutes? Or had there been a ghastly mistake?
Blennerhassett dashed for a phone, while David sank on to a chair and tried to think of nothing. There was a quick burst of conversation, then the doctor slammed the phone back down.
‘Jesus!’ he said, ‘I’ll crucify you if you give me another turn like that. Your wife is perfectly well and sitting up in bed asking where you’ve gone. I think you owe her an apology. Ah, come on now, you’ll be making me blub as well. They tell me if I ever show emotion on the job I’ll get the sack. Isn’t it a grand profession? Come on with me and I’ll take you to her. By the way, there’s a flower shop just over there, just in case you had it in mind.’
‘Dr Rose? This is David Laing. How’s Maddie?’
‘Why ask me? She’s very ill, you know that. Your wife and her idiot boyfriend have a lot to answer for.’
‘It’s my impression that’s exactly what they’re busy doing at this very minute. If you believe in an afterlife, that is.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean …’
‘Of course you didn’t. Look, there’s someone I’d like Maddie to meet. It may do her some good.’
‘Well, you can come over, but I can’t promise anything. That cocaine did some terrible damage.’
‘I’ll be over soon.’
They scarcely spoke on the way across. Just being together and out of danger was enough for them these days.
‘I like your parents,’ she said. ‘Your mother reminds me of an old aunt of mine. In fact, I think they’re related.’
They stayed with Maddie for about an hour. Nabila found some sort of bond with her at once. As the visit came to an end, Maddie turned to her father.
‘Are you two getting married?’ she asked.
‘Well, I ...’ David flushed. ‘It’s a bit ...’
Nabila shook her head in disgust.
The answer is, “Yes” - but only if you’re happy. Take your time and think about it. If it’s a “Yes”, we’ll get married the minute you leave this dump.’
Maddie smiled.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.
‘Well, don’t be too long about it,’ said David. ‘I’m getting on in years.’
Nabila leaned across and kissed Maddie gently on both cheeks.
‘Maddie, if you’re willing, I’d like to try to help you. Would you like that, or would the herbs frighten you?’
‘No. I’d give anything a try. Do you think you can do something?’
Nabila nodded gravely.
‘Yes, I think I can do something. With that and ...'
She turned to David.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘Maddie, I’ve got a small present for you. All the way from China.’
He reached into his pocket and brought out a crumpled sheet of paper. Without a word, he passed it to Maddie. She held it for a moment without speaking, sensing, perhaps, what it was.
‘Open it,’ urged Nabila.
With shaking fingers she unfolded it. For a minute or more she stared at it, overcome with fear and longing.
‘Is it ... genuine?’
‘Oh, yes. Very genuine,’ David said.
‘I can’t read all the characters,’ she said.
‘That doesn’t matter.’
Nabila smiled at him.
‘Tell her,’ she said.
‘Well, I ... I got some of our people on to this several days ago.’
‘And?’
He broke into the biggest smile he’d ever known.
‘You have another visitor waiting downstairs. Shall I show him up?’
About the Author
Daniel Easterman (Denis MacEoin) was born in Belfast, Ireland, in 1949.
He studied English Literature at Trinity College, Dublin, and Persian and Arabic at the University of Edinburgh. Between 1975 and 1979 he carried out research for his doctoral thesis on Shi’ite Islam at King’s College, Cambridge. He has lived in most parts of the British Isles, as well as in Iran and Morocco.
For several years he was lecturer in Islamic Studies at Newcastle University. Now writing full-time, he holds an honorary post at Durham University.
Apart from his literary and academic interests he is involved in the promotion of alternative medicine.
He lives in the north of England with his wife, a homeopath, and their cat, a tabby.
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