Catherine Cookson by Tilly

Author:Tilly
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-08-27T22:40:35+00:00

PART THREE

The Workings Of The Witch

For one full week he existed in a nightmare in which he imagined that he had no feet. As a child he had been subject to bad dreams; an unknown fear would overtake him and when he went to scream no sound came and he would wake up sweating, the bed clothes in a heap about him.

As he grew older the intervals between the nightmares lengthened but the intensity remained, and in some way his mind had taught him to recognise the experience of the nightmare when in the midst of it and he would wake himself up, saying, "It's only a dream.

It's only a dream.""

But now the nightmare had been with him solidly for se backslash enough days and when he was in the midst of it he would yell at himself, "It's only a dream.

It's only a dream," but unlike his awakening in years past he now recognised the nightmare as real, and not being able to bear the thought he forced himself to descend into the phantasy of the dream again. When on the seventh day he could no longer dream he made himself look down the bed towards the hump of the wire cage that covered the place where his feet should be and, even now clinging to his dream, he told himself they must be there because they were paining.

As he gazed down the coverlet a strange face intruded itself in front of the cage and a strange voice said, "Ah! we're awake. There now, you feel better this morning?"

He looked up at the bulbous bosom covered in a white starched apron and at the round face above it topped by the failed white cap, but he made no reply, and the voice went on, "Now we'll have some soup, won't we?"

A minute later he almost screamed aloud as the nurse, her arms underneath his oxters, attempted to prop him up against his pillows. What he did was to take his hands and with all the strength he could gather push violently at her; and as she reeled away the set smile slipped from

her face and, indignantly, she said, "Now!

now! I was only trying to make you comfortable."

"Well, don't do it like a dray horse." His voice sounded strange to his ears-it was hoarse, cracked.

"Doctor Kemp is on his way up," she said stiffly.

His answer was to turn an almost ferocious glance on her. There was a wild anger inside of him, he wanted to claw, smash, rend. He looked down at his hands where his fingers like talons were grabbing up fi/ls of the silk counterpane.

The door opened and Simes stood aside and ushered Doctor Kemp into the room.

The doctor was a small man. He looked robust, jolly and well fed, and his voice matched his appearance in heartiness. "Well! well!

now this is better, we are really awake at last.

Well done! nurse. You've got him looking bright and ..."

"Shut up!"

Both the doctor and the nurse stared at him in

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