“We returned to the hospital at half past eight. It had started snowing, just a few flakes. I could see my tired face in the rear-view mirror. It made me wince, gave me a feeling of death, of inexorability. I was on a downward path, hemmed in by my own epilogue. There were a few entries and exits still to go, but not much more. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I missed the turning for the hospital. Louise looked at me in surprise. ‘We should have turned right there.’ I said nothing, drove round the block and then took the correct turning. Standing outside the A&E entrance was one of the nurses who had received us during the night. She was smoking a cigarette and seemed to have forgotten who we were. In another age, I thought, she could have been in one of Caravaggio’s paintings. We went in. The door to Harriet’s room was open. The room was empty. A nurse approached along the corridor. I asked about Harriet. She looked searchingly at us. We must have resembled a pair of woodlice th...at had crept out into view after a night spent under a cold stone.MoreLessShow More Show Less
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