‘Oh, has it deteriorated dreadfully?’ I ask, with a hopeful expression that seems to confuse her.
‘No, not at all. She’s much improved. She’s a fighter.’
‘Isn’t she?’ I say.
The nurse opens the door, and her voice rises to a volume she clearly uses for the more senior patients.
‘Hello, Madeleine, dear, I’ve a visitor for you today.’
‘Is it Stephen?’ she says from her bed, her voice rising in hope.
‘It’s your daughter-in-law.’
I appear in the doorway to watch her frown appear. It’s probably harder to disguise your disgust when you’re recovering from what I now understand was simple heart failure rather than a stroke or heart attack, but Stephen was always one to exaggerate.
‘Can you stay?’ Madeleine asks the nurse, reaching a hand out towards her.
‘We’ll be fine,’ I insist, and hold the door open until the nurse feels obliged to slip out.
I feel Madeleine’s cold eyes on me as I wander around her room silently. I pick up her cards and read the anodyne messages from well-wishers. I smell the roses in the vase on her bedside cabinet and read the chart at the end of her bed.
‘Heart’s not so strong, is it?’ I say, tapping the chart. ‘Must be so worrying. I mean, one shock and it might pack up for good.’
Even though she’s stronger than Stephen suggested, withouther make-up, fine clothes and elegant house, Madeleine looks much older. Her skin is so thin that you can see every contour of the bone beneath.
‘Where’s Stephen?’ she says. ‘I don’t want to speak to you.’
‘But I do want to speak to you, Madeleine, on a delicate matter, so Stephen doesn’t even know I’m here,’ I say, and sit down in the rather upright chair at her side. ‘Lovely place here. Do they treat you well?’
‘I want to see my Stephen,’ she says, her sharp eyes on me as I inspect her drip.
‘I have a couple of questions. That’s all. I want an honest answer – just a straight yes or no, OK?’
Her eyes widen as she stares at me. There’s something about her sunken eyes and sharp bones that gives her an ill-deserved grandeur.
‘Question one – did you convince Stephen to divorce me?’
Madeleine looks to the window, which is both rude and revealing.
‘A simple yes or no will suffice, Madeleine.’
Her mouth puckers and tightens. I don’t feel I have much time, so I reach across, take her wrist and quickly pull out the cannula. She lets out a small cry, more of shock than of pain.
‘Sorry, I thought you were finding it difficult to pay attention. Yes or no? I doubt Stephen has the imagination to come up with this himself.’
She rubs her arm and starts to pick off the remaining surgical tape. This suggests guilt, but I need to hear her say it.
‘I’ve devoted several years of my life to making Stephen happy and raising our children. And yet, he spends time with you and comes back saying he wants to leave me. Anyone would think you’ve poisoned his mind against me, or, worse.’
‘Worse?’ she spits.
‘I suspect you threatened to disinherit him.’
‘None of your business what I do with my wealth,’ she says firmly.
‘So that’s it. You told him he’ll get nothing if he’s still with me,’ I say.
She swallows and she looks down at her hands.
