A Great Deliverance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,114

and forced herself towards the stairs. But as she reached them her eyes were caught by a flash of light from the sitting room. She walked to the door curiously to find the room empty, the flash only a brief flicker of a passing car's lights hitting the glass of the picture. His picture. Tony's picture.

She was drawn into the room, and she sat in her father's chair, which, along with her mother's, faced the shrine. Tony's face grinned its impish grin at her; his wiry body twisted with life.

She was weary and numb, but she forced herself to keep her eyes on the picture, forced herself back to the deepest reaches of her memory where Tony still lay, wizened and gaunt, in a narrow white hospital bed. He was branded into her consciousness as he always would be, tubes and needles sprouting from him everywhere, his fingers plucking spasmodically at the covers.

His thin neck no longer supported a head that appeared by contrast to have grown immense. His eyelids were heavy, crusted and closed. His cracked lips bled.

"Coma," they had said. "It's nearly time now."

But it hadn't been. Not yet. Not until he'd opened his eyes, managed a fleeting elf's smile, and murmured, "I'm not scared when you're here, Barbie. You won't leave me, will you?"

He might have actually spoken to her in the sitting room's darkness, for she felt it all again as she always did: the swelling of grief and then - blasting it away like a breath from hell - the rage. That single reality that was keeping her alive.

"I won't leave you," she swore. "I'll never forget."

"Lovey?"

She cried out in surprise, brought back to the shattering present.

"Lovey? Is that you?"

Past the pounding of her heart, she forced her voice to sound pleasant. No problem, really, after so many years of practise. "Yes, Mum. Just having a sit."

"In the dark, lovey? Here, let me turn on the light so - "

"No!" Her voice rasped. She cleared her throat. "No, Mum. Just leave it off."

"But I don't like the dark, lovey. It...it frightens me so."

"Why are you up?"

"I heard the door open. I thought it might be..." She moved into Barbara's line of vision, a ghostly figure in a stained pink dressing gown. "Sometimes I think he's come back to us, lovey. But he never will, will he?"

Barbara got to her feet abruptly. "Go back to bed, Mum." She heard the roughness of her voice, and she tried unsuccessfully to modulate it. "How's Dad?" She took her mother's bony arm and firmly led her from the sitting room.

"He had a good day today. We thought about Switzerland. You know, the air is so fresh and pure there. We thought Switzerland would be the nicest place next. Of course, back so soon from Greece, it doesn't seem quite right to go off again, but he thinks it sounds a good idea. Will you like Switzerland, lovey? Because if you don't think you'll like it, we can always choose someplace else. I want you to be happy."

Happy?

Happy? "Switzerland's fine, Mum."

She felt her mother's bird-claw hand grip her arm tightly. They started up the stairs.

"Good. I thought you'd like it. I think Zurich would be the best place to begin. We'll do a tour this time, with a hired car. I long to see the Alps."

"Sounds fine, Mum."

"Dad thought so, lovey. He even went to Empress Tours to get me the brochures."

Barbara's steps slowed. "Did he see Mr. Patel?"

Her mother's hand fluttered on her arm. "Oh, I don't know, lovey. He didn't mention Mr.

Patel. I'm certain he would have said something if he had."

They reached the top of the stairs. Her mother paused at the door to her bedroom. "He's such a new man when he goes out for a bit in the afternoon, lovey. Such a new man."

Barbara's stomach turned on the thought of what her mother might mean.

Jonah Clarence opened the bedroom door softly, an unnecessary precaution, for she was awake. She turned her head at the sound of his movement and smiled wanly at her husband.

"I've made you some soup," he said.

"Jo - " Her voice was so small, so weak, that he went hurriedly on.

"It's just the tinned stuff from the pantry. I've some bread and butter here as well." He placed the tray on the bed and helped her into a sitting position. At the movement, several of the deeper cuts began to bleed again. He took a towel and pressed it firmly against her