‘I didn’t mean to hit you.’
‘Of course you didn’t. You were dreaming.’
I sat down on one of the chairs by the big window looking out over the lake. It was still dark outside. I could hear a dog barking in the distance. Individual barks, like broken-off sentences. Or like the way you speak when nobody’s listening.
I watched her as she continued to recount her dream, and it seemed to me that she was just the same as when I had known and loved her. I wondered what exactly it was that made me think so. I eventually realised that it was her voice, which hadn’t changed at all over the years. I recalled telling her many times that she would always be able to get a job as a telephone operator. She had the most beautiful telephone voice I had ever heard.
‘An enemy cavalry company was hiding in the forest,’ she said. ‘They suddenly burst into the open and attacked before I had chance to defend myself. But it’s all over now. Besides, I know that certain nightmares never return. They lose all their strength and don’t exist any more.’
‘I know that you’re seriously ill,’ I said.
I hadn’t planned to say that at all. The words simply tumbled out of my mouth. Harriet looked at me in surprise.
‘There was a letter in your handbag,’ I said. ‘I was looking for some explanation for why you had fallen down on the ice. I found the letter, and read it.’
‘Why didn’t you say you knew?’
‘I was ashamed of having rooted around in your handbag. I would be furious if somebody did that to me.’
‘You’ve always been an interfering nosy parker. You were always like that.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘Oh yes it is. Neither of us have the strength to lie any more. It’s a fact, isn’t it?’
I blushed. I’ve always rummaged around other people’s property. I’ve even been known to steam open letters, and reseal them afterwards. My mother had a collection of letters from her younger days in which she opened her heart to a friend of hers. Shortly before she died she had tied a ribbon round them and asked for them to be burned. I did so — but read them first. I used to read my girlfriends’ diaries and raid their drawers; I’ve been known to ransack fellow doctors’ desks. And there have been patients whose wallets I have comprehensively investigated. I never stole any money. I was after something different. Secrets. People’s weakness. Knowledge of things nobody knew that I knew about.
The only person who ever found me out was Harriet.
It happened at her mother’s house. I had been left alone for a few minutes, and had started to work my way through their bureau when Harriet entered the room silently and wondered what on earth I was doing. She had already noticed that I used to go through her handbag. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I can no longer remember what I said. We never spoke about it again. I never touched her belongings after that. But I continued digging into the lives of other friends and colleagues. Now she had reminded me of the kind of person I am.
She smoothed down the covers and beckoned me to sit next to her. The thought that she was naked underneath the sheets suddenly excited me. I sat down and put my hand on her arm. She had a pattern formed by birthmarks near her shoulder. I recognised them all. Everything’s the same, I thought. Such a long time has passed, but we are still the same as we were at the beginning.
‘I didn’t want to tell you,’ she said. ‘You might think that was why I tracked you down. Looking for help where there is no help possible.’
‘Nothing is ever hopeless.’
‘Neither you nor I believe in miracles. If they happen, they happen. But believing in them, expecting them — that’s nothing more than wasting the time allotted to you.
‘I might live for another year, or it might only be six months. In any case, I think I can survive for a few more months with the aid of this walker and all the painkillers. But don’t try telling me that nothing is ever hopeless.’
‘Advances are being made all the time. Sometimes things happen amazingly quickly.’
She sat up a little more erect against the pillows.
‘Do you really believe what you’re saying?’
I didn’t answer. I remembered her once saying that life was like your shoes. You couldn’t simply expect or imagine that your shoes would fit perfectly. Shoes that pinched your feet were a fact of life.
‘I want to ask you to do something,’ she said, and burst out laughing. ‘Can’t you take those bits of paper out of your nostrils?’
‘Was that all?’
‘No.’
I went to the bathroom and removed the blood-soaked pieces of toilet paper. The bleeding had stopped. My nose was tender; there would be a bruise and some swelling. I could still hear the solitary dog barking mournfully somewhere outside.
I went back and sat on the side of the bed once more.
‘I want you to lie down beside me. Nothing more than that.’
I did as she asked. Her perfume was strong. I could feel the contours of her body through the sheet. I lay down on her left side. That’s what I had always done in the past. She reached out and switched off the bedside light. It was between four and five in the morning. The faint light from a solitary lamp post by a fountain in the courtyard seeped in through the curtains.
‘I really do want to see that forest pool,’ she said. ‘I never had a ring from you. I don’t think I ever wanted one. But I’ll settle for the pool. I want to see it before I die.’
‘You’re not going to die.’
‘Of course I’m going to die. We all reach a point where we no longer have the strength to deny what’s going to happen. Death is the only constant companion a human being can have in this life. Even a lunatic usually knows when it’s time to go.’
She fell silent. Her pains came and went.
‘I’ve often wondered why you never said anything,’ she said after a while. ‘I can understand that you had met somebody else, or that you simply didn’t want to carry on any more. But why didn’t you say anything?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Of course you know. You always knew what you were doing, even when you claimed that you didn’t. Why did you hide away? Where were you when I stood at the airport, waiting to see you off? I stood there for hours. Even when the only flight that hadn’t left was a delayed charter to Tenerife, I still stood there. Afterwards, I wondered if you’d been hiding behind a column somewhere, watching me. And laughing.’
‘Why should I laugh? I’d already left.’
She thought for a moment before speaking.
‘You’d already left?’
‘The same time, the same flight, the previous day.’
‘So you’d planned it?’
‘I didn’t know if I was going to get on the flight. I simply went to the airport to see what would happen. A passenger didn’t turn up, and I was able to rebook.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘It’s the truth.’
‘I know it’s not. You weren’t like that. You never did anything without having planned it in advance. You used to say that a surgeon could never leave anything to chance. You said you were a surgeon through and through. I know you had planned it. How can you expect me to believe something that can only be a lie? You’re just the same now as you were then. You lie your way through life. I caught on too late.’
Her voice was shrill. She was starting to shout. I tried to calm her down, to make her think about the people sleeping in the neighbouring rooms.
‘I don’t care about them. Explain to me how somebody can behave like you did towards me.’