The Laying on of Hands - Alan Bennett [44]
‘It’s all right,’ said Midgley.
‘Here, go get yourself a coffee,’ said Hartley, giving him a pound. Aunty Kitty looked away.
HARTLEY AND HIS family were going. They were congregated outside the lift.
‘You’ll wait, I expect,’ said Hartley.
‘Oh yes,’ said Midgley, ‘I want to be here.’
‘You want to make it plain at this stage you don’t want him resuscitating.’
‘That’s if he doesn’t want him resuscitating,’ said Jean. ‘You don’t know.’
‘I wouldn’t want my dad resuscitating,’ said Hartley.
‘Denis might, mightn’t you Denis?’
‘No,’ said Midgley.
‘You often don’t get the choice,’ said Hartley. ‘They’ll resuscitate anybody given half a chance. Shove them on these life-support machines. It’s all to do with cost-effectiveness. They invest in this expensive equipment then they feel they have to use it.’ He pumped the lift button. ‘My guess is that it’ll be at four in the morning, the crucial time. That’s when life’s at its lowest ebb, the early hours.’
‘Miracles do happen, of course,’ said Jean. ‘I was reading about these out-of-body experiences. Have you read about them, Denis? It’s where very sick people float in the air above their own bodies. Personally,’ Jean kissed Midgley, ‘I think it won’t be long before science will be coming round to an after-life. Bye bye. I wish it had been on a happier occasion.’
Midgley went down the long corridor.
‘MONEY’S NO GOOD,’ said Aunty Kitty. ‘Look at President Kennedy. They’ve been a tragic family.’
The Indians slept, the little son laid with his head in the father’s lap.
An orderly came in and tidied the magazines, emptied the waste-bin and took away a vase of flowers.
‘Oxygen,’ he said as he went out.
‘The Collingwoods got back from Corfu,’ said Aunty Kitty. ‘They said they enjoyed it but they wouldn’t go a second time.’
It was after ten and Midgley had assumed she was going to stay the night when she suddenly got up.
‘If I go now I can get the twenty-to,’ she said. ‘I’ll just get back before they’re turning out. I never go upstairs. It’s just asking for it.’
‘I’ll walk down with you,’ said Midgley.
She tiptoed elaborately past the sleeping immigrants, favouring them with a benevolent smile.
‘They’ve got feelings the same as us,’ she whispered. ‘They’re fond of their families. More so, probably.’ They came out into the corridor. ‘But then they’re less advanced than we are.’
He phoned Joyce.
She and Colin were watching a programme about dolphins that had been introduced by the Duke of Edinburgh. Her mother was asleep with her mouth open.
‘What’re you doing?’ asked Midgley.
‘Nothing. Colin’s watching a programme about dolphins. How is he?’
Midgley told her.
‘I’ve got to stay,’ he finished.
‘Why? You’ve done all that’s necessary. Nobody’s going to blame you.’
Midgley saw that somebody had written on the wall ‘Pray for me.’ A wag had added ‘OK.’
‘I must be here when he goes,’ said Midgley. ‘You can understand that.’
‘I understand you,’ she said. ‘It’s not love. It’s not affection.’ Colin looked up. ‘It’s yourself.’
She put the phone down.
‘Dad?’ said Colin.
She turned the television off. ‘He’s hanging on.’
‘Who?’
‘Your grandad.’ She got up. ‘Wake up Mother. Time for bed.’
MIDGLEY WENT BACK and sat with his father. While he had been out the night nurse had come on. She was a plump girl, dark, less pert than the others, and, he thought, more human. Actually she was just dirty. The hair wasn’t gathered properly under her cap and there was a ladder in her stocking. She straightened the bedclothes, bending over the inert form so that her behind was inches from Midgley’s face. Midgley decided it wasn’t deliberate.
‘Am I in the way?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Why? Stop there.’
She looked at the television monitor for a minute or two, counting the jumps with her watch. Then she smiled and went out. Five minutes later she was back with a cup of tea.
‘No sugar,’ said Midgley.
‘May I?’ she said and put both lumps in her mouth.
‘Slack tonight,’ she said. ‘Still it just needs one drunken driver.’
Midgley closed his eyes.