That Elusive Cure 9

By the time I pulled into my driveway I had decided not to tell Jimmy anything. He’d laugh at me, call me a fool for believing and I’d never go back for the other sessions. I’d tell him I had a nice afternoon with my new friend Janie down by Thurstaton beach and he’d be too busy working to be interested in any more details. He’d just be glad that I got out of the house.

Janie and I had separated on friendly terms. We’d hooked up on Facebook before driving off in separate directions, promising we’d keep in touch. I figured I’d be far more likely to keep that promise once I’d got proof that the machine actually worked. To be honest, as I sat in my car not quite ready to go inside and face Jimmy, I began to feel a bit stupid. I thought of films about the olden days and how those quack doctors rolled up with their wagon filled with tinctures and potions and false hope, sold the promise of a cure and left before the truth could be discovered. Was I one of those gullible people waving their twenty pound note in the air and trying to get a bottle of snake essence before the wagon rolled off into the sunset?

But Janie hadn’t asked for money. She’d given me the key, and even if she had another, it didn’t stop me from passing the key onto another person. It was all so confusing and I wasn’t going to solve any of this today, not here in my driveway with the sun beginning to heat the air to an unbearable level. I grabbed my handbag, hiding the key to the church in the pocket where I kept a few tampons. Not that Jimmy would ever dare to go digging in my bag, he had a fear of sticking his hand in there, like he might catch something if he did, but keeping the key in that pocket made doubly sure he wouldn’t find it.

“I’m home,” I called out as I unlocked the front door and stepped inside.

Jimmy appeared at the top of the staircase, a mug in his hand. “I was just about to make tea. Want one?”

I nodded. God how I wanted a cup of tea. Curl up on the sofa with the Ray Bradbury book I was reading for the umpteenth time and forget about that stupid machine.

Jimmy stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring at me in an odd way. “What have you done? You look different.”

My cheeks pinked up, how could he guess so quickly? Did that mean the machine actually did do something? “Nothing, just walking along the beach.”

“That must be it.” He took another long look before turning away. “Must be the sea air or catching the sun on your skin or whatever. You look almost healthy.”

I laughed nervously. “Thanks,” I replied, attempting my best sarcastic tone and hoping he wouldn’t notice.

The kettle roared into life as I collapsed onto the sofa. The day was catching up on me. I was overdue my next anti-sickness, yet the usual nausea was somehow absent.

“Did you get my messages?” Jimmy put a cup of tea on the side table next to me.

“What messages?” I dug in my handbag for my phone. Sure enough, I had a couple of messages and a missed phone call. I scrolled through to find Sally’s name. She must have called just after I left the church.

“Sally couldn’t get a hold of you. She wants to know if you can pick her kids up from school. She’s having a really bad day.”

“Must be to be asking for my help…” I read pretty much what Jimmy had said in her text message. I shot off a reply and glanced at the clock. “They’re in an afterschool club that ends in ten minutes.” I slurped at the tea. “Must go.” I took one more gulp of tea, gave Jimmy a quick peck on the lips and grabbed my keys.