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Authors: Nicholas Evans
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lying here maimed by a surgeon's knife, was all they had. How rash, how mean of Annie to have spawned but one. Did he really think that? Surely not. But how then could he speak the thought so freely to himself?
Robert had always felt that he loved his wife more than she would ever love him. That she did love him he had no doubt. Their marriage, compared with many he had observed, was good. Both mentally and physically they still seemed able to give each other pleasure. But barely a day had gone by in all these years when Robert hadn't counted himself lucky to have held on to her. Why someone so vibrant should want to be with a man like him, he never ceased to wonder.
Not that Robert underestimated himself. Objectively (and objectivity he considered, objectively, to be one of his strengths) he was one of the most gifted lawyers he knew. He was also a good father, a good friend to those few close friends he had and, despite all those lawyer gags you heard nowadays, he was a genuinely moral man. But though he would never have thought himself dull, he knew he lacked Annie's sparkle. No, not her sparkle, her spark. Which is what had always excited him about her, from that very first night in Africa when he opened his door and saw her standing there with her bags.
He was six years older than she was but it had often felt much more. And what with all the glamorous, powerful people she met, Robert thought it nothing less than a minor miracle that she should be content with him. More than that, he was sure - or as sure as a thinking man could be about such matters - that she had never been unfaithful to him.
Since the spring however, when Annie had taken on this new job, things had become strained. The office bloodletting had made her irritable and more than usually critical. Grace too, and even Elsa, had noticed the change and watched themselves when Annie was around. Elsa looked relieved nowadays when it was he rather than Annie who got home first from the office. She would quickly hand over messages, show him what she had cooked for dinner and then hurry off before Annie arrived.
Robert now felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his wife standing beside him, as though summoned by his thoughts. There were dark rings under her eyes. He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek.
'Did you sleep?' he asked.
'Like a baby. You were going to wake me.'
'I fell asleep too.'
She smiled and looked down at Grace. 'No change.'
He shook his head. They had spoken softly as if for fear of waking the girl. For a while they both watched her, Annie's hand still on his shoulder, the whoosh of the respirator measuring the silence between them all. Then Annie shivered and took her hand away. She wrapped her woolen jacket tightly around her, folding her arms.
'I thought I'd go home and get some of her things,' she said. 'You know, so when she wakes up, they'll be there.'
'I'll go. You don't want to drive now.'
'No, I want to. Really. Can I have your keys?'
He found them and gave them to her.
'I'll pack a bag for us too. Is there anything special you need?'
'Just clothes, a razor maybe.'
She bent and kissed him on the forehead.
'Be careful,' he said.
'I will. I won't be long.'
He watched her go. She stopped at the door and looked back at him and he could tell there was something she wanted to say.
'What?' he said. But she just smiled and shook her head. Then she turned and was gone.
The roads were clear and at this hour, apart from a lonely sand-truck or two, quite deserted. Annie drove south on 87 and then east on 90, taking the same exit the truck had taken the morning before.
There had been no thaw and the car's headlights lit the low walls of soiled snow along the roadside. Robert had fitted the snow tires and they made a low roar on the gritted blacktop. There was a phone-in on the radio, a woman saying how worried she was about her teenage son. She'd recently bought a new car, a Nissan, and the boy seemed to have
Robert had always felt that he loved his wife more than she would ever love him. That she did love him he had no doubt. Their marriage, compared with many he had observed, was good. Both mentally and physically they still seemed able to give each other pleasure. But barely a day had gone by in all these years when Robert hadn't counted himself lucky to have held on to her. Why someone so vibrant should want to be with a man like him, he never ceased to wonder.
Not that Robert underestimated himself. Objectively (and objectivity he considered, objectively, to be one of his strengths) he was one of the most gifted lawyers he knew. He was also a good father, a good friend to those few close friends he had and, despite all those lawyer gags you heard nowadays, he was a genuinely moral man. But though he would never have thought himself dull, he knew he lacked Annie's sparkle. No, not her sparkle, her spark. Which is what had always excited him about her, from that very first night in Africa when he opened his door and saw her standing there with her bags.
He was six years older than she was but it had often felt much more. And what with all the glamorous, powerful people she met, Robert thought it nothing less than a minor miracle that she should be content with him. More than that, he was sure - or as sure as a thinking man could be about such matters - that she had never been unfaithful to him.
Since the spring however, when Annie had taken on this new job, things had become strained. The office bloodletting had made her irritable and more than usually critical. Grace too, and even Elsa, had noticed the change and watched themselves when Annie was around. Elsa looked relieved nowadays when it was he rather than Annie who got home first from the office. She would quickly hand over messages, show him what she had cooked for dinner and then hurry off before Annie arrived.
Robert now felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his wife standing beside him, as though summoned by his thoughts. There were dark rings under her eyes. He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek.
'Did you sleep?' he asked.
'Like a baby. You were going to wake me.'
'I fell asleep too.'
She smiled and looked down at Grace. 'No change.'
He shook his head. They had spoken softly as if for fear of waking the girl. For a while they both watched her, Annie's hand still on his shoulder, the whoosh of the respirator measuring the silence between them all. Then Annie shivered and took her hand away. She wrapped her woolen jacket tightly around her, folding her arms.
'I thought I'd go home and get some of her things,' she said. 'You know, so when she wakes up, they'll be there.'
'I'll go. You don't want to drive now.'
'No, I want to. Really. Can I have your keys?'
He found them and gave them to her.
'I'll pack a bag for us too. Is there anything special you need?'
'Just clothes, a razor maybe.'
She bent and kissed him on the forehead.
'Be careful,' he said.
'I will. I won't be long.'
He watched her go. She stopped at the door and looked back at him and he could tell there was something she wanted to say.
'What?' he said. But she just smiled and shook her head. Then she turned and was gone.
The roads were clear and at this hour, apart from a lonely sand-truck or two, quite deserted. Annie drove south on 87 and then east on 90, taking the same exit the truck had taken the morning before.
There had been no thaw and the car's headlights lit the low walls of soiled snow along the roadside. Robert had fitted the snow tires and they made a low roar on the gritted blacktop. There was a phone-in on the radio, a woman saying how worried she was about her teenage son. She'd recently bought a new car, a Nissan, and the boy seemed to have
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