The cabbie at the wheel was sucking hard on a series of cigarettes that she flicked out the window when they became a stub.
“Guessin’ you’d be a Bop,” the woman said while she looked straight ahead. Her driver’s card on the dashboard read Joy Barlow.
“Why?” Jack asked, tired.
“The pick-up address.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, mister, job’s a job. I’m your girl, and a customer’s a customer — so long as he coughs up at the end of the ride.” The girl glanced back over the bench seat, with the brass numbers 132 sewn into her jaunty hat.
The streets were busier than usual; mostly people in suits and skirts headed home from work, along with others more gaily dressed arriving for a night on the town. The bars and restaurants were fairly rammed. The overhead neon signage flickered on and off, creating a stop-start, glorious haze of pink, baby blue, purple and lime-green.
The Equalizer went straight to the hospital and fished out of his wallet an extra five bucks for the broad-minded driver.
“Thanks, mister!” the woman enthused.
“Likewise. Have a good one.”
At some stage while Jack was in Melbourne, Louise had been shuffled out of ICU and into a shared room on the second floor of the building. At that time of evening the interior lighting was subdued and the other ladies asleep. The only sounds came from a snorer, the beeps of a heart-rate monitor — and a respirator that huffed and puffed.
Having pulled a curtain across to get a foothold of privacy, Jack flopped on a chair next to the patient. Someone had placed a vase of starflowers atop the small chest of drawers paired with the bed. The man stared at them for a few seconds, before taking up the girl’s right hand and gazing at her face behind the respirator tube.
“Christ, I missed you,” Jack murmured. “I was away. Some place you would never want to go. Hope they’ve been looking after you here.”
He leaned over the armrest to peck the girl’s cheek — cool to the touch — and, once settled back in his seat, Jack found himself smiling.
“We’re going to try something tonight. Don’t know if the plan’ll work. It should work, but I think it’s better not to promise anything. If it does, you’ll be out of here, on your feet, alive, kicking and back to yourself. The way you should be — would be — if I hadn’t screwed up. Thing is, you won’t remember me. Maybe that’s a blessing. You can start afresh, find the partner you deserve, someone who doesn’t lie and keep secrets. A better person, you know?”
Jack drew away, annoyed. He was rambling.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this. My plan was to keep it simple, to remain enigmatic and all that, but instead here I am throwing out my stupid heart onto the sleeve of a jacket I didn’t pay for myself. Don’t listen to me. What I’m trying to say is this: whatever happens, Louise — live life, love life, and be happy. You deserve that. You hear me? Yes?”
Right then, the curtain pulled aside and the Professor peered in, his hair and eyebrows more cockeyed than previously.
“Oh, I do apologize. I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Prof, it’s okay. Stay. I know Louise would want you to be here.”
The old man didn’t move, but he didn’t leave either. “I would prefer not to intrude.”
“You’re not, honestly. I’ve said what I needed to. Drag over that chair.”
He did as requested and sat down on the other side of the cot. “You were missed over the past two days. I don’t care what the medicos say, Louise was aware of your absence.”
“Nice of you.” Jack offered a slight inclination of his head. “Who’re these flowers from?”
“My doing. Louise grew them in the small garden behind the shop.”
“Hers?”
“Yes. You don’t like the touch?”
“Let’s just say I had a recent bad experience with flowers.”
“Then you would prefer for me to remove the things?”
“No, it’s fine. They’re hers, after all.”
The Professor mused for a few seconds, apparently debating whether to ask his next question — and did so regardless.
“Would you mind if I asked where you’ve been?”
“Melbourne.”
“Ahh, the motherland.”
“Once, maybe. Now — no.”
“Are you planning on leaving us?”
“I don’t know. There’re things I need to finish up here, before I pass judgement. Donald Wright, for one.”
“We haven’t heard a peep from that man since you destroyed his places of abode.”