Nightmare

88

‘Mr Nightingale?’

‘Yes?’

There was nothing to see. Just white. Or an absence of white. Then Mrs Steadman was standing in front of him, smiling benignly and dressed in black.

‘A decision has been reached.’

‘Yes?’

‘You are to go back.’

‘Back where?’

‘To where you were before.’

‘And then what happens?’

‘That’s up to you.’

‘And who has my soul?’

‘You do.’ She smiled. ‘Take better care of it this time.’

‘Mrs Steadman?’

‘Yes?’

‘Thank you.’

‘There’s no need to thank me, Mr Nightingale. Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye, Mrs Steadman.’