by T. M. Clark
Neel nodded. ‘Lily, I need to do a physical exam to assess your overall neurological health.’
‘Okay,’ she said.
‘Catch.’ He threw her a soft stress ball from his side of the table.
Lily tried to catch it, but it slipped through her fingers.
‘That’s okay,’ he said. ‘We’ll try a few other things for reflexes later. Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on one of the lounge chairs.’
As Lily walked across the room, he whispered loudly to Quintin, ‘Do you think she can hear me still?’
‘Of course I can hear you,’ she said. ‘I’m still in the same room.’
‘Thanks, Lily,’ he said. ‘There’re a few “obstacles” on the carpet behind the couch here; I want you to follow the numbers and do each one.’
She went to start the exercises. She’d never seen them done quite this way, but as she was doing them, she understood why—Neel was different from other specialists. He’d found innovative ways to test his patients.
Finally, she and Quintin were seated together again, and Neel was looking at her.
‘Lily, there’s no easy way to say this, but I’m confirming your suspicions. You definitely have signs of early-onset Alzheimer’s. Thankfully, it can be managed. We can slow it down with drugs. But we can’t stop it altogether. Don’t go and resign or anything major. I recommend that you don’t make any huge decisions alone anymore where your finances or your living arrangements are concerned.’
‘I didn’t want to hear that news,’ Lily said.
‘I understand why. It is never an easy diagnosis to deliver either,’ Neel said.
Quintin said, ‘I married Lily for better or for worse, so we’ll face this together to the very end.’
‘Quintin, you need to understand that these drugs won’t make it go away. We’ve caught it early and can treat it, so we hope that we can push her to about a year, perhaps two, before Lily will need to stop work. By then she won’t be capable of making her own decisions; it’s all going to depend on how she reacts to the medications.’
‘I’m still here,’ Lily said. ‘In the room.’
‘I know. But sometimes I’ve found that for the person who has the ailment, it’s easier to process the information when it’s not directed at you, but through your spouse. You hear it all and process it, but if I were telling it directly to you, you would’ve thrown up a wall and stopped listening as soon as I confirmed your diagnosis.’
‘Can I ask you something?’ Lily said.
‘Of course.’
‘How long have I got? How long before I regress so much in my mind that I don’t know Quintin and I’ve no idea what year it is anymore?’
‘Realistically, knowing what is happening to you, the rate of shrinkage being substantial in your MRIs—within four years. We’ve diagnosed you early, and we’ll have you on treatment. If you weren’t on treatment, it might have been faster.’
‘And how long do I have left to live?’
‘Total shut down within six years. Unless you’re extremely lucky. I’m putting you on cholinesterase inhibitors. Quintin, these drugs are to help preserve a chemical messenger that’s depleted in Lily’s brain by the disease. Also, Memantine, which will help slow the progression. I’m also going to prescribe an antidepressant.’
‘I’ve never taken an antidepressant in my life,’ Lily said.
‘You’re about to start,’ Neel said. ‘You’ll thank me for them when they help lessen some of the side effects of the cholinesterase inhibitors.’
Lily opened her mouth to tell him that she was not about to take any pills that had been dispensed in South Africa, then shut it again. She couldn’t tell him. ‘Can you prescribe the genuine, not the generic drugs, please,’ she said instead. She couldn’t go public with her findings yet. There were still so many loose ends that she and Piet had to tie up. They were still waiting on the results from the drugs she had sent to Switzerland for testing.
And they were still on the hunt for Natalie’s killer.
* * *
Quintin lay in bed next to his wife in the hotel in Johannesburg. She had turned her back to him, but he knew he needed to reach her.
‘We need time to process what Neel said. We can’t hide from it. We are going to have to face it,’ he said and kissed the back of her neck.
‘I know it’s not something we can run away from. But for now, I can try not to think about it.’
‘You and I both know it doesn’t work that way. You clammed up on me. You told me yesterday you didn’t want to talk about it, and while you cried with me last night, we need to process your diagnosis.’
‘I’m still too angry. Too sore.’
‘I get that. But you need to tell me what’s inside your head. It’s not going away.’
‘It’s part of us until it fades from my memory and I don’t know that I’m ill anymore. Until I don’t even know where I am and who you are. But for you—it’s going to be there until the day I die. You’re going to lose me twice. Once when my mind goes, and I don’t know you anymore, and again when my body dies. It’s not fair, Quintin. It’s not fair.’ She sobbed as tears ran freely down her cheeks and she turned towards him.
He held her close. ‘You’re right—it’s not fair.’
‘I want to hit something. I want to scream at the world. Everything I’ve done in my life has been to preserve life, and then life throws this at us. I’m going to go from a doctor to a slobbering, uncoordinated body whose mind has checked out on her. An adult who needs her nappy changed.’
He kissed the top of her head as tears ran down his face. ‘But you will still be my wifie and my best friend. You’ll still be mine. And I’ll still be there with you. Right beside you. I will make sure that those nappies are the best, and softest, that money can buy.’
Lily laughed despite herself, while the tears still streamed down her face.
‘Just know I’ll be there with you.’
‘I keep having that song from Evita—“You Must Love Me”—play over and over in my head.’
‘Lily, you know I would never abandon you. I promise you now that I won’t. We’re in this together to the end. And I’ll love you always. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘You say that now. But this disease destroys people. Confuses them. Erodes away everything decent that they were. Some people become violent, and they’re so horrible to their spouses. What if I become so ghastly to live with that you need to put me in a nursing home in restraints? I’ve seen too many old people in those homes like that. I’ve seen how senior citizens get treated. Then what? You visit me on a Sunday between three and five for visiting hours, and forget I exist for the rest of the week? What if I treat you so badly when I love you so much, and I don’t know that I’m being a bitch to you?’
‘It won’t be like that, Lily. We’ll manage it together. And I couldn’t put you in any aged-care facility. You’ll stay with me.’
‘Not if we go back to Australia. The authorities there have the right to remove a spouse from the care of their partner. I’ve seen it done before, where one is put into care and the other one only gets to visit.’
‘If you’re worried about that, then we’ll stay here in South Africa, or we live somewhere else. We can afford to hire highly qualified staff and keep you in our own home. Believe me, they’re not taking you away from me. Not now. Not ever. I’m sure that regulations like that don’t apply to people like us, who can do better than what an institution can offer.’
‘What if we run out of money?’
‘We won’t, Lily, we have more than enough. But I promise you, if it looks like we are going to, I’d rather sell everything, even La Angelique, and live with you in a shack than lose you. You’re my world.’
‘But I’m going to die on you! I’m going to leave you alone! Someone else is going to grow old with you and hold your hand, and it won’t be me. We were going to be together when we were old. To walk naked on the beach at Cap d’A
gde in France and shock the world with not caring about our wrinkled bodies.’
Quintin laughed. ‘I can see us now, walking hand in hand, and the paparazzi turning away, not bothering to take a picture of the two oldies walking together with the saggy boobs and the shrivelled-up penis. We can still do that; we’ll merely have to do it a bit earlier than we had planned.’
Lily smiled, and she brought his head closer to hers for a kiss. ‘I cannot see how to go forward from here, Quintin. There are so many chemicals in these pills and so much uncertainty in the South African medication. I can’t trust them.’
‘Your tainted-drugs case aside, I understood what Neel was saying about the drugs not being a total cure. About the drugs just slowing down the disease. Remember, his dates are only guesstimates, too. But until the time that you’re lost totally to me, we can’t give up. I promise you that we’re going to pack in as much living as we can. We’re going to create more memories to stack into that brain and find ways to help you remember them when that mind of yours decides to forget, and we’re not going to let anyone tear us apart. No matter if your body gives up or not. You’ll always be with me.’
‘You know I love you?’ Lily said.
‘From the moment I saw you on the dance floor, and I couldn’t believe my luck when I opened my eyes in that hospital and saw you sleeping in that awful chair, even when you weren’t in your doctor’s uniform. I knew that I loved you, and I would love you till the very end. And if the end is coming faster than we planned, then at least we get to face it together.’
Lily hugged him tightly.
‘I know that we’re going to have to face the practicalities, too. I understand that. As Neel said, we’re going to need to make plans to monitor you. I need you to promise that you’ll tell me everything, and that you won’t conceal anything. Don’t shut me out. I’ll need to know the whole shebang, from if you forget your meds, to if you experience anything strange. It’ll mean changes for us—you’ve always been so independent—and now we’ll need to pull together, and not let this destroy us.’
‘I’ll try, Quintin. I’ll try.’
‘Talking pills. After you went to sleep, I emailed that script to our doctor in Australia, and he’s organising a courier to deliver your Australian-made drugs to the house within a few days. You will be safe from these thugs here who are tainting pills, no matter what. There are some advantages to being who we are.’
Lily kissed him again. ‘Thank you.’
‘So, wifie, are we okay?’
‘Always. But I have lots of stomach-churning going on right now.’
‘Understandable, given we just had our world blown apart,’ Quintin said.
* * *
They turned into Hacienda El Paradiso. The stars had seemed so bright when they were driving. Lily sat outside in the driveway looking at the house. Bessie had once again put the lights on, so they weren’t walking into a darkened building. Lily hoped Bessie hadn’t stayed up and had gone to bed long ago.
The lights were also on in the security cottage, as expected, as they were in Elise’s cottage. The main lights in the house also blazed out a welcome.
‘Do you think the house knows that we’ve come back?’
‘I don’t know about the house, but I do know that there’s a cat that ran out to greet us. Look. Here comes Tiger.’
Tiger came out of the bushes and was running towards the Land Cruiser. Lily opened the door, and the cat all but scrambled into the car as if it was a dog trying to get onto her lap and headbutt her.
‘I would say that’s a happy cat,’ Quintin said. ‘One that really missed you.’
The cat was yowling at her and then it jumped off her lap and into Quintin’s to say hello to him. ‘I’ve never known such an affectionate cat.’
‘I’ve got to admit I’m as happy to see this cat as he is to see us. We’re home, Tiger!’ she said as he found his way back onto her lap. She wrapped her arm around him and, picking him up, she hugged him close as he continued to yowl like a set of bagpipes as she held him—all the time purring and meowing. After a while, she let him go and he jumped out of the car. She got out too, and as he headed towards the house, he stopped and turned around, as if to make sure that they were following him, all the while talking to them.
‘That’s the best kind of homecoming,’ Lily said.
‘I have to agree. It’s lovely to know that an animal missed us, even if we were only gone for three days. Go inside; I’ll bring the bags.’
Lily walked into Hacienda El Paradiso. It seemed so familiar—like she was walking into her own home.
* * *
Lily sat on their bed, her back against the pillow wedged between her and the antique cast-iron frame. She stared at the list of medications that Neel had suggested she begin, and all the side effects they could cause.
Tiger heard the crinkle of the paper and attempted to jump on it. Lily had to hold it up with one hand above her head to save it, as Tiger sank his claws deep into the other.
‘Ouch. No, Tiger. I’m not on the menu.’
He let go of her hand and apologised by butting his head against her tummy. Then he jumped off the bed and headed out the door, towards the kitchen, looking for breakfast.
‘The monster drew blood,’ Quintin said as he wrapped a tissue around her fingers.
‘It’s okay, I’m fine. Just got a fright. I didn’t want him to destroy the list. It looks like I’m in for some scary side effects.’
‘We’ll handle it. One day at a time,’ Quintin said. ‘That and our overzealous cat.’
‘I love you, you know that?’ Lily said.
Quintin held her hand against his lips and kissed it. ‘I know.’ And then kissed up her arm. ‘I never get tired of hearing you say it. I love you too.’
Lily reached over and ran her fingers down his cheek, feeling the new growth of his beard. Sandpaper against the soft tips of her fingers. She shivered and whispered, ‘You were asking about something before Tiger so rudely interrupted us.’
Quintin kissed her fingers before holding her hand captive in his and placing it on his chest. ‘We’re doing what we can. We’ll take each new day as a gift. And when your mind forgets, we’ll simply have to make more new memories.’
‘Over and over again,’ she said.
‘Ah—but think of the fun we can have making them,’ Quintin said.
Lily sighed mockingly. ‘Okay, I guess we’re just going to have to put some effort into making these memories decadent enough to make the brain neurons all light up together and work better.’
CHAPTER
38
Sithole sat waiting in the stolen 4x4, just up from the four-way intersection outside Ayurprabhu Pharmaceuticals. The street was so quiet it had the feeling of being abandoned. All the workers had scurried back to their shacks and houses across the city at this time of night. The buildings, lit by security lights, advertised false hope in their cheeriness, when in reality they were places that sucked the souls from every worker.
The standard six-foot fence topped with razor wire flew flags of plastic bags, blown there by the wind. Tattered until they decomposed, no one was going to clean them from the wire, and they would eventually be loose and move onto another obstacle to be caught on, or land in the ocean one day. A legacy left by cheap disposable bags once used in this country.
The security guard on the boom gate opened the red-and-white barrier that was designed to keep out unwanted visitors, both in vehicles or on foot. Security cameras were mounted outside, pointing to where people would be expected: the driveway and the parking lot. The intersection was a dead spot for them. Sithole wasn’t taking any chances though; his balaclava was pulled over his face. You could never be too careful.
He looked in the rear-view mirror, where he could see his captain in a stolen bakkie. Their getaway car.
Mishti Prabhu’s silver Mercedes Benz coasted up to the security gate, and then through. He started his motor, ensuring that his light
s were off. She drove out of the gate and towards the four-way intersection. He knew she’d go straight through, ignoring the road rules like most females at night. He’d watched her do it every night for the past week.
He looked about. There was no other traffic around. He pulled out into the road and gunned his engine, gaining momentum. If she saw him, she would brake, and he would continue through the stop signage as if nothing was supposed to take place, but if she followed her habit, she wouldn’t give him a fleeting glance.
He looked at his speedometer and pressed down on the accelerator. He could see her coming towards their intersection. He would hit the driver’s side directly where she sat. An instant death was always preferable to the screaming of a woman. Or the impossible mission of attempting again in a private hospital to complete a contract.
He was confident that his vehicle was the bigger and stronger of the two. Her new Mercedes Benz was designed to crumple, to take the impact, but not this style of side-on collision with a weighted force.
He changed gears, his leather driving glove gripping on the knob of the lever, despite the amount of sweat from his palm that it held firmly inside. The engine responded, giving him more speed, even though it held a load of bricks on the back. The 4x4 was designed as a workhorse, its engine a coiled spring of energy, waiting to be unleashed.
If he couldn’t drive away successfully, by the time the police came to the scene, many of those bricks would be missing, as news went out to those living close by that a truck with building materials had been in an accident. Looters were potentially his friend tonight. If it went south, his captain was there as a backup, as always, to pull him from the wreckage and remove him from the scene of the crime.
He allowed himself one more glance at the approaching lights and nodded. From years of experience, he knew that if it went well, they should collide. If not, there was always the next night.
Instinct was too strong not to swerve, but if you chose to avoid looking, you could trick your body and mind not to respond. He looked down at the speedometer, checking the temperature of the engine, and the small amount of fuel in the tank. Removing his eyes from the oncoming road, ensuring his mind was on other minor details. The pain from the collision would only last a few days.