You know what the choice must be, David. The Brig was ruthless,
allowing him no quarter, driving him on to meet his fate.
All right, David surrendered at last, and turned back to face them. But
on one condition. One on which I insist. Debra must not be told that
there is a chance of her regaining her sight, Ruby Friedman shook his
head. She must be told The Brig's mustache bristled fiercely. Why not?
Why don't you want her to know?
You know why. David answered without looking at him.
How will you get her there, if you don't explain it to her? Ruby asked.
She has been having headaches, we'll tell her there is a growth, that
you've discovered a growth, that it has to be removed. That's true,
isn't it? No. Ruby shook his head.
I couldn't tell her that. I can't deceive her. Then I will tell her,
said David, his voice firm and steady now. And I will tell her when we
discover the result after the operation. Good or bad. I will be the
one who tells her, is that understood? Do we agree on that? And after
a moment the two others nodded and murmured their agreement to the terms
David had set.
David had the hotel chef prepare a picnic basket, and the service bar
provided a cool bag with two bottles of champagne.
David craved for the feeling of height and space, but he needed also to
be able to concentrate all his attention on Debra, so he reluctantly
rejected the impulse to fly with her, and instead they took the cableway
up the precipitous cliffs of Table Mountain, and from the top station
they found a path along the plateau and followed it, hand in hand, to a
lonely place upon the cliff's edge where they could sit together high
above the city and the measureless spread of ocean.
The sounds of the city came up two thousand feet to them, tiny and
disjointed, on freak gusts of the wind or bouncing from the soaring
canyons of grey rock, the horn of an automobile, the clang of a
locomotive shunting in the train yards, the cry of a muezzin calling the
faithful of Islam to pray, and the distant shrilling of children
released from the classroom, yet all these faint echoes of humanity
seemed to enhance their aloneness and the breeze out of the south east
was sweet and clean after the filthy city air.
They drank the wine together, sitting close while David gathered his
resolve. He was about to speak when Debra forestalled him.
It's good to be alive and in love, my darling, she said. We are very
lucky, you and I. Do you know that, David? He made a sound in his
throat that could have been
agreement, and his courage failed him.
If you could, would you change anything? he asked at last, and she
laughed.
Oh, sure. One is never absolutely content until and unless one is dead.
I'd change many small things, but not the one big thing. You and""What
would you change? I would like to write better than I do, for one
thing. They were silent again, sipping the wine.
Sun is going down fast now, he told her.
Tell me, she demanded, and he tried to find words for the colours, that
flickered over the cloud banks and the way the ocean shimmered and
dazzled with the last rays of gold and blood, and he knew he could never
tell it to her. He stopped in the middle of a sentence.
I saw Ruby Friedman today, he said abruptly, unable to find a gentler
approach, and she went still beside him in that special way of hers,
frozen like a timid wild thing at the scent of some fearful predator.
It's bad! she said at last. Why do you say that! he demanded quickly.
Because you brought me here to tell me, and because you are afraid. No,
David denied it.
Yes. I can feel it now, very clearly. You are afraid for me. It's not
true, David tried to reassure her. I'm a little worried that's all.
Tell me, she said.
There is a small growth. It's not dangerous, yet.
But they feel something should be done about it, I He stumbled through
the explanation he had so carefully prepared, and when he ended she was
silent for a moment.
It is necessary, absolutely necessary? she asked.
Yes, he told her, and she nodded, trusting him completely, then she
smiled and squeezed his arm.
Don't fret yourself, David, my darling. It will be all right. You'll
see, they can't touch us. We live in a private place where they can't
touch us. Now it was she who was striving to comfort him.
Of course it will be all right. He hugged her to him roughly, slopping
a little wine over the rim of his glass. When? she asked.
Tomorrow you will go in, and they'll do it the following morning. So
soon? 'I thought it best to have it over with. 'Yes. You are right.
She sipped her wine, withdrawn, fearful, despite her brave show. They
are going to cut my head open? 'Yes, he said, and she shuddered against
him. There is no risk, he said.
No. I'm sure there isn't, she agreed quickly.
He woke in the night with the instant knowledge that he was alone, that
she was not curled warm and sleeping beside him.
Quickly he slipped from the bed and crossed to the bathroom. It was
empty and he padded to the sitting room of the suite and switched on the
lights.
She heard the click of the switch and turned her head away, but not
before he had seen the tears glowing on her cheeks like soft grey
pearls. He went to her quickly.
Darling, he said.
I couldn't sleep, she said.
That's all right. He knelt before the couch on which she sat, but he
did not touch her.
I had a dream, she said. There was a pool of clear water and you were
swimming in it, looking up at me and calling to me. I saw your dear
face clearly, beautiful and laughing- David realized with a jolt in his
guts that she had seen him in her dream as he had been, she had seen the
beautiful dream-David, not the monstrous ravaged thing he was now. Then
suddenly you began to sink, down, down, through the water, your face
fading and receding, Her voice caught and broke, and she was silent for
a moment. It was a terrible dream, I cried out and tried to follow you,
but I could not move and then you were gone down into the depths. The
water turned dark and I woke with only the blackness in my head. Nothing
but swirling mists of blackness. 'it was only a dream, he said.
David, she whispered. Tomorrow, if anything happens tomorrow Nothing
will happen, he almost snarled the denial, but she put out a hand to his
face, finding his lips and touching them lightly to silence them.
Whatever happens, she said, remember how it was when we were happy.
Remember that I loved you.
The hospital of Gioote Schuur sits on the lower slopes of Devil's Peak,
a tall conical peak divided from the massif of Table Mountain by a deep
saddle. Its summit is of grey rock and below it lie the dark pine
forests and open grassy slopes of the great estate that Cecil John
Rhodes left to the nation. Herds of deer and indigenous antelope feed
quietly in the open places and the southeast wind feathers the crest
with a flying pennant of cloud.
The hospital is a massive complex of brilliant white buildings,
substantial and solid-looking blocks, all roofed in burnt red tiles.
Ruby Friedman had used all his pull to secure a private ward for Debra,
and the sister in charge of the floor was expecting her. They took her
from David and led her away, leaving him feeling bereft and lonely, but