If she dies in the night, he will be alone. The lemonade cap will be licked dry within a day. The food won’t last much longer. And with no way out of the sink to help himself, it will be a worse fate than if she’d left the creature outside at the mercy of rain and the neighbour’s cat. Reality is all corners and sharp edges. Then a more unsettling truth drops: Helen is no longer able to die. What she has both wanted and feared for so long is now impossible. Squeezing both fists, she turns sharply to the bedside table. “It’s like having a baby! At eighty-three!” As if loosened by anger, a memory
...more
