Devil in Disguise (44 page)

Molly
gaped at her, open-mouthed. ‘But I didn’t see any of this!’

‘You
were on the phone for a while today, weren’t you? Three hours, I think it was.’

‘But …‘
Molly had been chatting to Jane for rather a long time but could she really
have missed both boys being soaked to the skin?

‘Then,
when Michelle fancied a rest, she simply shut the boys in the chicken run and
went off for a sleep on the sun-lounger. That’s when I’m sure I saw Bertie
eating chicken shit. Of course I went down immediately and let them out. Poor
little things, poo smeared all over them.’

‘My
God!’ said Rupert, horrified. ‘Are they all right?’

‘I just
can’t believe it,’ Molly said, appalled. ‘It doesn’t sound like Michelle at
all.’

‘This
is serious,’ Rupert said grimly. ‘We can’t leave Leo and Bertie in the care of
someone we don’t trust to look after them.’

Molly
was amazed. ‘But she’s a marvel! The children love her. What would I do without
her?’

‘You
heard Lilia. Michelle’s been dangerous and reckless when she thought no one was
watching.’

‘But
that can’t be right,’ said Molly. ‘She’s very responsible. I trust her
implicitly.’

Rupert
shook his head, his eyes grave. ‘I don’t think we can take the risk. If we have
the least doubt, she has to go. Luckily for us, Lilia is on hand to see things
we can’t. We’ve had the warning and must heed it.’

‘But
how will I cope without her?’ said Molly, becoming distressed.

‘My
dear, you are not to worry,’ said Lilia. ‘I will pop down after
Trisha
to
help you for a while. It will be no trouble.’

‘There,’
said Rupert, looking relieved. ‘Lilia can help you. You wanted more time with
the children and now you can have it. We ought to think seriously about letting
Michelle go.’

‘But,
Lilia …’ said Molly, helpless to express what she was thinking. How could she
tell her that she was both too old and unqualified to care for the children?

‘I am
glad to be of use,’ said Lilia. ‘It gives me a reason to carry on. Especially
now you are
on a break.’

Molly
felt sure that something was going badly wrong but she couldn’t see exactly
what it was. Just then the telephone rang and Rupert went to answer it.

‘It’s
for you,’ he said, holding the handset towards Molly.

‘Someone
called Roger wants to speak to you. He says it’s urgent.’

Roger was waiting for
Molly at the grand glass-fronted entrance of University College Hospital on
Euston Road when her driver dropped her off. ‘Molly!’ he called.

‘Oh,
Roger,’ she said breathlessly. She hugged him. ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said.

‘Don’t
be silly. Of course I had to come. How is Simon?’

‘I’ll
take you up to see him. He’s on the sixth floor.’

‘Is it
very serious?’ she asked, as they made their way to the lifts.

Roger
looked grave. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. They’ve done a lot of tests and an
ultrasound scan. Basically he has all the symptoms of end-stage liver failure:
jaundice, hepatitis, abdominal swelling —they’re draining off litres of fluid.
He’s also suffering from alcohol withdrawal so he’s got the shakes and is a bit
delirious. They’ve given him some sedation to help that.’

Molly
closed her eyes. It was too terrible. ‘Oh dear. How on earth did he get into
such a state?’

‘When
did you last see him?’

‘Years
and years ago. We fell out rather badly. We were incredibly close once.’

‘He was
never the easiest person to get along with.’

‘When
we were young and carefree, I adored him. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.
And I’ve thought of him often over the years. Every day, really. And now this …’
Sadness washed over her, and her voice trailed away as she became lost in
memories.

They
fell silent as they entered the crowded lift. Molly’s ordinary clothes, lack of
makeup and the pair of dark glasses she wore protected her from being
recognised. Once they stepped out on the sixth floor, Roger touched her arm.
‘Prepare yourself. He’s not a pretty sight. Go through the doors and he’s in
the second bed on the right.’

Molly
hung back, stomach churning. Of all the places in which she’d imagined meeting
Simon again, his deathbed had not been one of them. She was frightened now of
seeing him and of not knowing what to say. ‘Are you sure he wants me? I’m
terribly nervous.’

‘You’re
the one he keeps asking for. Go on. I’m going to stay here. Let you two be
reunited without me being in the way.’

‘Thank
you, Roger,’ she said, and impulsively kissed his cheek. ‘You’re a dear, kind
man.’ Then she gathered her courage and walked slowly down the ward to Simon’s
bed. As she approached, she saw that the curtains were partly drawn round the
bed and a male nurse was busy, probably taking his patient’s blood pressure.
She waited awkwardly until he’d finished, then drew a deep breath and walked
into view. Simon was turned away from her, trying to plump up his pillow, and
didn’t see her straight away, so Molly had time to register his appearance and
hide her shock. His scalp was drawn tightly over his hairless skull, his cheeks
were hollow and his skin looked dry but glowed a luminous pumpkin yellow, as if
lit from within. He sighed with frustration and lay back. Then he saw her.
Their eyes locked.

‘You
came,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you.’

Molly
was filled with pity for her old friend. He was just a frail, sick shell of his
former self. ‘I almost didn’t but once Roger explained how serious things are
and how much you wanted to see me, well… I had to come. I’m so sorry you’re
ill. How are you feeling?’

He
lifted up his arm and turned his head so she could see the various tubes and
drips that entered his body via wrist and neck. ‘There’s another tube under the
covers that is draining what they call my morbid retention of fluid. And yet
another darling little tube up my tired old penis to save me the bother of
going to the lay. I don’t need to miss a moment of
The Paul O’Grady Show.
It’s
bliss.’

The
very mention of his sexual organ embarrassed them both. The unspoken subject of
Daniel and the rift between them loomed large in their minds.

Molly
sat down on the chair next to Simon’s bed. ‘Is it God’s way of telling you to
stop the drink? I always told you to cut down.’

‘Unfortunately
I didn’t listen. My liver’s had some sort of hissy fit, it seems. Refusing to
play ball. The good news is they’ve given me Librium to stave off the
withdrawal symptoms.’

‘Lucky
you,’ said Molly, remembering her own fondness for the Valium with which Lilia
had once supplied her. ‘It’s been eight years,’ she observed.

There
was a silence between them and Simon’s eyes turned serious. ‘I’m sorry, Molls.’

‘What
for?’ she asked, needing him to say the words.

‘You
know what for. Daniel, that’s what. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know.’

‘It was
pretty unforgivable,’ she said. ‘Kind of final, don’t you think, as far as
friendship goes?’

‘There
was a woman on
The Jeremy Kyle Show
who ran off with her sister’s
husband. She said they couldn’t help themselves, that it was animal lust. And
when the husband came on, I quite understood.’

‘No
regrets, then?’ said Molly, briskly.

Simon
fixed her with sad eyes. ‘Of course I regret it. I lost you, didn’t I? The most
important person in my life. You were the one person in the world I knew inside
out. When you wrecked the flat and threw us out, I knew I’d done something
unspeakable and I’ve been consumed with self-hatred ever since. I thought I
would never, ever see you again.’

‘Well,
I’m here now. I’ve missed you too,’ she said, softening. She had never seen
Simon so sincere and his vulnerability touched her.

‘You’re
a star now. Living in another universe. And you got the handsome husband, the
two adorable children, the house in the country … The magazines think you
have a perfect life.’

‘I’m
very lucky. Look.’ She pulled a photograph out of her handbag and showed it to
Simon. ‘Leo and Bertie.’

He
looked at it, a half-smile on his lips. ‘Gorgeous. Well done, Molls. I’m glad
you got your dream. You deserved it.’ Then he said softly, ‘At the end of the
TV show that woman went off arm in arm with her sister.’

Molly
reached out and squeezed Simon’s shoulder affectionately. ‘A happy ending,
then.’

‘She
forgave her. Say you forgive me?’

Molly
blinked back some tears. ‘I wonder if I have it in me. I can’t say it if I
don’t mean it.

‘You
can, as far as I’m concerned.’

Molly
half laughed. She could see how very ill her old friend was. Death hovered
about him like a cloud of midges. Of course she forgave him. In fact, would she
have the life she had now if it weren’t for him? Perhaps, paradoxically, she
was in his debt. She said quietly, ‘I forgive you, Simon. I accept your
apologies. You did a terrible thing but you’ve punished yourself enough. Look
at you. What have you done to yourself?’

‘Seeing
you and hearing those words is like the sea rushing over the sand and smoothing
away all the bumps and footprints. Thank you.’ Simon closed his eyes and
exhaled contentedly. ‘The guilt is dissolving and draining away, just like the
bile from my gut.’

‘We
need to get you better, Simon.’

‘The
professor told me if I ever drink again my liver will pack up altogether.
There’s just a sliver still working. What they call a window of opportunity.’

‘And do
you understand that it’s serious?’

‘I know
I must stop the drink and start looking after myself. Those are my orders.’

‘And do
you intend to obey them?’

‘I
shall now. You’ve given me the will to live.’

They
smiled at each other. Then Simon fell back on his pillows, sighing.

‘You’re
tired. I’ll go now.’ Molly stood up.

‘Come
back soon, won’t you?’ Simon said, through half-closed lips.

‘Of
course. I promise.’ She left quietly and Simon was already sleeping as she
slipped through the curtain.

Simon soon became
accustomed to the hospital with its rhythms of doctors’ rounds, meal trolleys,
medication times and visiting hours. It was soothing in a way. In fact, he
hadn’t had such a bustling social life for years. At every hour of every day
nurses and medics came to check on him and administer various drugs. He learnt
their names and flirted with them, making them laugh and charming them.

He
began to feel something he hadn’t experienced for a very long time: hope.

Typical!
he thought. Just before I bow out for the final time, I start enjoying life!

After
ten days and more tests, including a very unpleasant examination of his gullet
and stomach with an endoscope, Simon began to turn a corner. He was still very
tired but the jaundice was retreating, his skin a little pinker and less
yellow. One day he even got out of bed and wandered down to the hospital shop
to buy the
Guardian.
His catheter had been removed and he was gradually
weaned off the Librium. He was given a selection of new medication to take
throughout the day.

Molly
visited him almost every afternoon, bringing him fruit, yoghurt, books, papers
and magazines to occupy his empty hours. His favourite was the volume of
selected poetry. ‘Tennyson and Librium go fabulously together,’ he announced.

It was
amazing how quickly they resumed their former friendship. They chatted away as
they had in the old days, catching up on everything that had happened in the
intervening years. If she couldn’t visit, she telephoned. Very often they would
laugh and howl together, but Simon had his serious moments too. He wanted to be
totally honest and up front with Molly about everything. He didn’t want to shy
away from painful memories. Soon he found himself talking about his life in a
way that he had never done before. Molly sat and listened quietly, as though
she knew that Simon was talking to himself as well as to her.