As she was about to enter his room, the sister stopped her.“Doctor will be here in a moment Mrs Chambers. Perhaps you and Mrs Lawrence would like to freshen up a little while he examines your father.”“Yes. Yes of course” Sally answered.She eased carefully into the room, watching carefully to be sure she spilled none of the hot drink. Then she looked over to her mother. She blinked, frowned. Where on earth was she?She looked at her father and was shocked, the cup falling from her hand.The heavy chair was neatly placed on the opposite side of the bed. Her mother’s hands clasped one hand of her father, and his other hand rested on hers. Her lips touched the back of his hand. The oxygen mask lay on the floor, still gently hissing its life supporting air. Her father's face had smoothed, his skin many years younger. A smile was on his lips.Sally dashed to her mother, skirting the bottom of the bed.“Mother” she called. There was no response. “Mother, mother.” She shook her mother’s arm, and. One evening Mom and Dad went out with the next door neighbors with whom they have become friendly leaving Amy and I alone in the house for the first time since moving in. Amy seemed in a strange and distant mood as she prowled around. I was sitting on the sofa watching TV without really focusing on what was actually playing--it was just images flickering in front of my eyes to distract my mind. Amy approached me and semed to be hiding something behind her back. After several odd moments of silence she held out one of my sketches of Halliwell that she must have stolen from the waste basket before I had emptied it. She held it out to me. "I have been having dreams about this man," she announced in a mechanical manner. "What is his name?" I asked in a note of disbelief. "His name is Halliwell," she said. My bllod went cold and I snatched the sketch from her and tore it into a multitude of fragments before tossing them into the trash. "He's told me things that no one would know..
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