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‘Sleep,’ he says, turning off the light and leaning back in a chair, propping his feet on the bed.
‘You frightened me,’ he whispers.
‘I frightened myself.’
10
Cyrus
Meredith Bennett breezes into the room, all business, with her hair still wet from the shower. Her floral dress is summery and cool but professional when teamed with a white doctor’s coat and the ubiquitous stethoscope slung casually around her neck.
‘I heard the good news,’ she says, smiling at Evie.
‘This is the neurologist I was telling you about,’ I say.
‘Do you remember me?’ she asks.
‘Vaguely,’ says Evie. ‘You were prodding me like I was a science experiment.’
‘Sorry about that. Can I do it again?’
‘Do I get to keep my clothes on?’
‘I’d prefer it that way.’ She pulls a chair close to the bed. ‘What day is today?’
‘Monday.’
‘What month?’
‘August.’
‘What is the opposite of cold?’
‘Hot.’
‘Up?’
‘Down.’
‘Who is the Prime Minister?’
‘Who cares?’
‘What’s the capital of Paris?’
‘You mean the capital of France.’
Dr Bennett smiles. ‘That’s known as a trick question. You passed.’
‘Can I go home?’
‘Soon. Tell me what you remember?’
‘I blacked out.’
‘Did you knock your head or fall over?’
‘I don’t think so.’
