settle down, two weeks to a month, I would guess then it will clear, the
nerve will have recovered its full and normal function and she will
begin having real effective vision.
Two weeks, David said, and he felt the relief of a condemned man hearing
of his reprieve.
You will tell her the good news, of course. Ruby gave another buoyant
chuckle, shaped up to punch David again and then controlled himself.
What a wonderful gift you have been able to give her. No, David
answered him. I won't tell her yet, I will find the right time later.
You will have to explain the initial vision she will experience, the
colour and shape hallucinations, they will alarm her. We will just tell
her that it's the normal after-effect of the operation. Let her adjust
to that before telling her.
David, I - Ruby began seriously, but he was cut off by the savage blaze
of blue in the eyes that watched him from the mask of scarred flesh.
I will tell her! The voice shook with such fury, that Ruby took a step
backwards. That was the condition, I will tell her when I judge the
time is ripe.
Out of the darkness a tiny amber light glowed, pale and far off but she
watched it split like a breeding amoeba and become two, and each of
those split and split again until they filled the universe in a great
shimmering field of stars. The light throbbed and pulsed, vibrant and
triumphant, and it changed from amber to brightest purest white like the
sparkle from a paragon diamond, then it turned to the blue of sunlight
on a tropical ocean, to soft forest greens and desert golds, an endless
cavalcade of colours, changing, blending, fading, flaring in splendour
that held her captive.
Then the colours took shape, they spun like mighty Catherine wheels, and
soared and exploded, showered down in rivers of flame that burst again
into fresh cascades of light.
She was appalled by the dimensions of shape and colour that engulfed
her, bewildered by the beauty of it and at last she could bear it no
longer in silence and she cried out.
Instantly there was a hand in hers, a strong hard familiar hand, and his
voice, dearly beloved, reassuring and firm.
David, she cried with relief.
Quietly, my darling. You must rest.
David. David. She heard the sob in her own voice as new torrents of
colour poured over her, insupportable in their richness and variety,
overwhelming in their depth and range.
I'm here, my darling. I'm here. What's happening to me, David? What's
happening? 'You are all right. The operation was a success. You are
just fine.
Colours, she cried. Filling my whole head. I've never known it like
this. It's the result of the operation. It shows that it was a
success. They removed the growth. 'I'm frightened, David. 'No, my
darling. There is nothing to be afraid of Hold me, David. Hold me
safe. And in the circle of his arms the fear abated, and slowly she
learned to ride the oceanic waves and washes of colour, came gradually
to accept and then at last to look upon them with wonder and with
intense pleasure.
It's beautiful, David. I'm not frightened any more, not with you
holding me. It's wonderful. 'Tell me what you see, he said. I
couldn't. It's impossible. I couldn't find the words. 'Try!
he said.
David was alone in the suite, and it was after midnight when the call
that he had placed to New York came through.
This is Robert Dugan, to whom am I speaking? Bobby's voice was crisp
and businesslike. It's David Morgan. 'Who? 'Debra Mordecai's husband.
Well, hello there, David. The agent's voice changed, becoming
expansive. It's sure nice to talk to you. How is Debra? It was
obvious that Dugan's interest in David began and ended with his wife.
That's why I am calling. She's had an operation and she's in hospital
at the moment. 'God! Not serious, is it? She's going to be fine.
She'll be up in a few days and ready for work in a couple of weeks.
'Glad to hear it, David. That's great. Loo ere, I want you to go ahead
and set up that script-writing contract for A Place of Our Own. 'She's
going to do it?
Dugan's pleasure carried six thousand miles with no diminution. She'll
do it now. 'That's wonderful news, David. 'Write her a good contract.
Depend on it, boyo. That little girl of yours is a hot property.
Playing hard to get hasn't done her any harm, I tell you! How long will
the script job last? They'll want her for six months, Dugan guessed.
The producer who will do it is making a movie in Rome right now. He'll
probably want Debra to work with him there. Good, said David. She'll
like Rome. You coming with her, David? No, David answered carefully.
No, she'll be coming on her own. Will she be able to get by on her own?
Dugan sounded worried.
From now on she'll be able to do everything on her own Hope you are
right, Dugan was dubious.
I'm right. David told him abruptly. One other thing.
That lecture tour, is it still on? They are beating the door down.
Like I said, she's hotter than a pistol. 'Set it up for after the
script job. Hey, David boy. This is the business. Now we are really
cooking with gas. We are going to make your little girl into one very
big piece of property. Do that, said David. Make her big. Keep her
busy, you hear. Don't give her time to think. I'll keep her busy. Then
as though he had detected something in David's voice. Is something
bugging you, David? You got some little domestic problem going there,
boy? You want to talk about it?
No, I don't want to talk about it. You just look after her. Look after
her well.
I'll look after her, Dugan's tone had sobered. And David What is it?
I'm sorry. Whatever it is, I'm sorry. That's okay. 'David had to end
the conversation then, immediately. His hand was shaking so that he
knocked the telephone from the table and the plastic cracked through. He
left it lying and went out into the night.
He walked alone through the sleeping city, until just before the morning
he was weary enough to sleep.
The streams of colour settled to steady runs and calmly moving patterns,
no longer the explosive bursts of brightness that had so alarmed her.
After the grey shifting banks of blindness that had filled her head like
dirty cotton wool for those long years, the new brightness and beauty
served to buoy her spirits, and after the main discomfort of her head
surgery had passed in the first few days, she was filled with a wondrous
sense of wellbeing, a formless optimistic expectation, such as she had
not experienced since she was a child anticipating the approach of a
long-awaited holiday.
It was as though in some deep recess of her subconscious she was vaguely
aware of the imminent return of her sight. However, the knowledge
seemed not to have reached her conscious mind. She knew there was a
change, she welcomed her release from the dark and sombre dungeons of
nothingness into the new brightness, but she did not realize that there
was more to come, that after colour and fantasy would follow shape and
reality.
Each day David waited for her to say something that might show that she
had realized that her sight was on the way back, he hoped for and at the
same time dreaded this awareness, but it did not come.
He spent as much of each day with her as hospital routine would allow,