Nightfall

44

The Australian nurse carefully cut the chicken breast into pieces so small that they couldn’t be choked on. The potatoes were mashed and the carrots had been boiled for so long that they had turned to mush, so the chicken was the only potential threat. The plate was on a tray over Rebecca Keeley’s lap. She sat with her hands by her sides, frowning as she watched him cut the meat.

‘That must have been nice, seeing your son after all these years,’ said the nurse.

She didn’t reply. She hadn’t said a word since Nightingale had left. The nurse wasn’t even sure that she’d spoken to her son.

‘I hope he comes again – you could do with a regular visitor. He might bring you out of your shell.’

The phone in the hallway started to ring and the nurse cursed. He looked apologetically at her. ‘Sorry about the language, Miss Keeley,’ he said. ‘It’s just that it never rings when I’m not busy. Sod’s law.’ He put the knife and fork on the tray and went to answer it.

As the nurse closed the door, the woman reached for the knife. For the first time she smiled, showing her raw, ulcerated gums. She placed the blade against her left wrist, and splayed her fingers. She shuddered and began to recite the Lord’s Prayer as she hacked away, sawing through flesh, veins and tendons. Blood sprayed across the bed as she continued to work the knife.