That Elusive Cure 22

 

I pulled into the tiny church car park, blocking Jimmy’s car in. Leaping out I bolted for the church, hoping he hadn’t locked the door, unsure of how I’d get in if he had. The door handle turned smoothly and I threw it open, the door bouncing off the wall. Jimmy was there, crouched down behind the pod. He jumped at the loud bang and I heard the tinkle of tools dropping.

 

“You’re here…” he sounded nervous.

 

“Of course I’m bloody here. I’m supposed to have a session today, as you know. So, are you going to tell me what the hell is going on, Jimmy?” I slammed the door closed and marched through the church to him.

 

“Nothing, I thought I’d have a look at the machinery, try and work it out.” He stuttered his words. He was hiding something.

 

“Oh my God.” I stopped. Jimmy had opened the panel of the pod. Tools were strewn all around him. There was an extension cord that led away behind some pews with a soldering iron and drill plugged in. He was sat on the parquet flooring, staring at the machinery and avoiding my stare. The first thing I noticed was the missing pipe. “You’ve broken it.” The words came out as a whisper. My cure, my fix, my remission, he’d stolen them from me.

 

Tears came suddenly. I backed up, tripping over his tool bag and landing heavily on my backside. “You broke it!” I said again, unable to comprehend. I was almost fixed, almost cured. How could he? I wiped at the tears, a long moan coming from deep inside. “How could you do this to me?”

 

“I wanted to see how it worked. I wanted to make more of them. I could cure the world with this. We’d be billionaires, the world at our feet…”

 

My hand came to rest on a book, I grabbed it and threw it at him. “I don’t care about the rest of the fucking world. You’ve killed me, that’s what you’ve done!” Great sobs took me over. I pulled my legs up and buried my head in my thighs. A hand tentatively touched my shoulder, and I shook him off. “Get away from me!” I screamed.

 

“I’ll fix it, I promise.”

 

“Empty fucking words, Jimmy. Couldn’t you have waited until I was done? Two more sessions, you hear me? Two more bloody sessions and I’d have been fixed.” I raised my head and wiped at the tears. “I wanted to live, don’t you get it? How can you even begin to understand the machine? The technology you need to fix it probably doesn’t even exist yet.”

 

Jimmy pulled out his phone. “That’s where you’re wrong. The pod is based on nano technology. There’s research being done on this in a lab in-”

 

“I don’t care!” I knocked the phone from his hand. “All I wanted was to be cured. Be the miracle. And you’ve bollocksed it all up.”

 

Jimmy gave me a wounded look and reached for his phone. “I wanted to give you a good life-”

 

“You just don’t get it, do you, Jimmy. The machine was going to give me a good life. All I ever wanted was to live a bit longer with no pain and no more soul destroying treatments.” Anger had dried up my tears. Ignoring Jimmy, I got up and went to the machine. I kicked off my shoes and climbed in. The mattress was still doing its thing, but I didn’t think that was mechanically driven. It was simply a new type of memory foam. Just in case he’d not broken anything critical, I hoped beyond hope and reached up to the panel above me.

 

Nothing happened. I tried again, placing my hand flat against the smooth metal. The lid didn’t budge.

 

I rested my hands across my tummy and lay there quietly. The machine had bought me some time, that’s what I needed to dwell on, not the stupidity of my partner. I understood now why he didn’t argue so much about me going out for drinks. Why I didn’t remember having issues with him when I stumbled in the door just after midnight and immediately made an offering to the porcelain gods. He’d found the key and already had plans for while I was out.

 

Jesus, stupid man. I massaged my liver, feeling the shape of it where my ribs ended. Just a couple of weeks ago I could make out the shape of the larger tumours under my skin. Now all I felt was smooth liver. Maybe the doctors could do more for me now, give me treatments that weren’t previously open to me. I kept my eyes closed, squeezing them until I saw a shower of silver lights behind my eyelids.

 

Janie was going to have to find out that my stupid other half broke this gift, this wonderful machine. She’d forever be the last person to have the miracle given to them. Tear welled up in my eyes again and I felt tears trickle down the sides of my face. Stupid, stupid man.

 

“Kath, I’m sorry.”

 

Jimmy was nearby. Probably watching me as I lay cocooned in the mattress. No chance he was getting the satisfaction of a response, of forgiveness. Not now, not any time soon.

 

“Kath, I really thought I knew what I was doing.”

 

I squeezed my eyes even tighter. Shame ears couldn’t shut as well.

 

“I researched and had schematics for primitive versions of this one. I really thought I was prepared. I had no idea it would break so easily.”

 

I took a deep breath and keeping my eyes closed replied, “Can you fix it?” 

 

There was silence for a moment. Then Jimmy said, “A gas came out. I don’t know what it was. I blocked up the hole before it could all escape. I was going to come back with a small bottle and try and capture some. There’s a lab in Liverpool I can send it for testing. Once I know what it is I can recharge the system and fix the break.”

 

“Jesus.” My hands moved from my stomach to my forehead. I rubbed at the headache that was growing there. “So the real answer is, no you can’t fix it.”

 

“Kath, that’s not fair. I’ll fix the machine. I just need to know what I’m dealing with.”

 

“Whatever.” I had no more patience for him. “I’ve got to go. Cass is due at ours later. I need to calm down before she gets there and you’re not helping.”

 

I wished for a dose of that calm-down magic the machine gave me to reduce my heart rate. Finally, I opened my eyes and glared at the shiny metal panel in the lid above me. I willed the machine to work, to fix my tumours, to make me healthy again. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Jimmy sitting on the pew that had been pulled up close to the pod. He was staring at the floor and holding his head in his hands.

 

I climbed out of the pod and slipped my shoes back on. “Where’s the key,” I asked as I picked up my handbag.

 

Jimmy pulled it out of his jeans pocket and handed it to me without a word, not even daring to look at me.

 

The key was warm in my hand, solid, somehow making everything more real. I fought tears back, blinking hard to clear my sight. “You’ll need it to lock up. Give me the key when you get home.” I handed it back and turned on my heel.

 

“Fix it,” I ordered as I walked out the door.