Murder With Mercy by Veronica Heley Page A

don’t you?’
    Ellie nodded. Anita. Ellie remembered a lively lass with a mass of fair hair and a gravelly, gin-and-tonic voice. The sort of person who gravitated to being chair of whatever charitable committee was flavour of the month. ‘Of course I remember her. Cancer, wasn’t it?’
    â€˜In remission for years and then it came back not once but twice. Freddie, her husband – you may not have come across him so much, he’s still working – he used to turn out as Father Christmas at the golf club parties, always good for a laugh. Anyway, he did ask me to visit, to cheer her up, but I’d only just come out of hospital and couldn’t face it. I ought to have gone to see her, though what I could have done … You feel so helpless. Then it’s too late, it’s all over and you feel guilty, though that’s stupid, too. I couldn’t have done anything to help.’
    Ellie shook her head. He was feeling guilty enough without her saying so.
    â€˜Tragic.’ His hands clutched the arms of his chair and released them. Over and over.
    â€˜Freddie asked if I’d a photo of Anita from the last golf club trophy dinner, before she took sick again. Presenting the trophy, you know? We always use the same photographer, so I rang her and asked her to search her archives, see if she could come up with something for him, and she did. I meant her to drop it round to him, but she put it through my letter-box instead and now …’ He gestured at his legs. ‘I can’t get round there. I asked Diana to take it round to him, but she’s so busy … Do you think you could …?’
    â€˜Yes, of course.’ Mentally rearranging her day to fit in this errand.
    He gave a heavy sigh. ‘She took a massive overdose. Waited till her husband was away for the weekend, so he wouldn’t find her and try to bring her back. I’ll give her this, she was efficient in whatever she did. She must have been hoarding the tablets for weeks. The doctor wouldn’t give her many at a time, you know. It makes it worse to think of her carefully setting one tablet a day aside, enduring sleepless nights, so that in the end she would go into an endless night.’ He tried to laugh. ‘Ha! I’m getting quite poetic. An endless night. Does that come from a poem, do you think?’
    Ellie wasn’t much into poetry. ‘It’s a good way of putting it. I’ll take the photo round to him at lunchtime.’
    â€˜It’s like the Hamlet thing. Or is it Macbeth? What if it’s not all over when you die? Suppose you wake up in a nightmare?’ He checked her face to see if she were following him. She didn’t know what to say, and her face must have shown her bewilderment and doubt.
    He said, ‘I’m getting maudlin. Diana tells me I’m dwelling on it far too much. But sometimes, I think … well, if Anita’s life was unendurable, if the pain had got too much, and there was nothing more that could be done to help her …?’
    Ellie made an effort to cheer him up. ‘The doctors say there’s no need for anyone to suffer like that nowadays.’
    â€˜Morphine, you mean? Ah, but would you have enough when you wanted it? No, I think she took the right decision. I salute her for it. I hope I shall have the guts to do the same if … Not that I’m anywhere near that.’
    Ellie was bracing. ‘Particularly as your son will need his father soon. Very soon.’
    â€˜Ah yes.’ His eyes brightened, and then went dull again. ‘It’s the waiting. I’ve never been any good at waiting.’

FOUR
Wednesday noon
    T he doctor had said he’d make an appointment for her at the memory clinic, but she hadn’t heard anything from them yet.
    She remembered some things so clearly, they might have happened that morning … except, what had she done that morning? She couldn’t find her diary.