Wed just got back from the birthday dinner a night I wont soon forget. My wife, Eleanor, and I left the restaurant in Soho where a crowd of friends, relatives and colleagues had gathered to mark my birthday. It had been a lively evening; many of the guests Eleanor had never met before, but since Id invited them, there had to be a reason.
Eleanor never likes to argue with me; she steers clear of quarrels and prefers to go along rather than prove a point. Its easier for her to agree with me than to try and convince me shes right.
Eleanor, have you seen the keys? Could you pull them out? I asked.
She fumbled through her handbag, searching for the metal. Suddenly she winced, dropped the bag onto the carpet and grimaced.
What happened? I asked.
Ive nicked myself on something, she replied.
The thing in that bag could swallow you whole, so its no surprise, I muttered.
She didnt argue. She picked up the bag, gently extracted the keys, and we slipped inside our flat. By then the sting in her finger had faded. Her legs ached from standing all night; all she could think about was a hot shower and a soft bed. The next morning she awoke with a throbbing, swollen, red finger. Remembering the cut from the night before, she opened the handbag and, after a careful rummage, found a large, rusted needle at the bottom.
What on earth? she said, baffled at how it had gotten in there. She tossed the needle into the bin, fetched a firstaid kit and cleaned the wound. After bandaging she headed to work, but by midday a fever began to climb.
She called me.
James, Im not sure what to do. I think I caught something nasty yesterday. Ive got a fever, a pounding head, my whole body aches. You wont believe itI found a big, rusted needle in my bag and thats what pricked me.
Maybe you should see a doctor; it could be tetanus or an infection, I suggested.
Dont overreact. Ive dressed the wound; Ill be fine, she replied.
But hour after hour her condition worsened. She barely made it through the day, ordered a taxi home, and collapsed onto the sofa as soon as she walked through the door.
In her sleep she saw my motherinlaw, Mabel, who had died when Eleanor was a child. She didnt know why she recognised Mabel, but she felt certain it was her. Mabel appeared bent and frail, the sort of figure that could frighten anyone, yet Eleanor sensed she meant to help.
Mabel led her through a field, pointing out herbs to gather, insisting she brew a tea and drink it to cleanse her body. She warned that someone wanted to harm Eleanor, and that to fight that person she must survive. Time was short.
Eleanor woke drenched in sweat. It felt as though shed slept for ages, but a glance at the clock showed only a few minutes had passed. The front door slammed open it was me, back from work. She slipped off the sofa and shuffled to the hallway. When I saw her, I could barely breathe.
Whats happened? Look at yourself in the mirror.
She stared at her reflection. Yesterday shed seen a bright, smiling face; now her hair was a tangled mess, dark circles hung under her eyes, her skin was pallid, and her gaze was empty.
Whats going on?
She recalled the dream and told me, I saw Mabel in my sleep; she told me what to do
Get dressed, were going to the hospital, I said.
I wont go, she snapped. Mabel said the doctors wont help me.
A fierce argument erupted. I called her mad, saying her feverinduced visions were nonsense. It was the first time wed ever truly fought. I tried to force her out of the flat, grabbed her arm and said, If you wont go voluntarily, Ill make you.
She broke free, lost her balance and slammed into a cupboard corner. Furious, I snatched my bag, threw the front door shut and stormed out. She managed only a quick email to her boss, explaining she was ill and needed a few days off.
I returned after midnight, apologising, but Eleanors reply was curt: Take me to the village where my grandmother lived tomorrow.
The next morning she looked more like a walking corpse than a healthy woman. I pleaded, Eleanor, dont be foolish. Lets go to the hospital. I dont want to lose you.
She insisted we drive to the village. She could only recall its name; my parents had sold the old farmhouse after my grandmother died, and she hadnt been back since. She slept through most of the journey. As we neared the hamlet, she jolted awake and shouted, Here!
We pulled over, and she collapsed onto the grass, exhausted but certain she was where Mabel had guided her in the dream. She collected the herbs shed been shown and we headed back. I brewed the tea exactly as she instructed. She sipped it in small draughts, and with each swallow she seemed to regain a bit of strength.
When she got up from the bathroom, she noticed her urine was a deep, almost black colour. It didnt frighten her; rather, it echoed Mabels words: Darkness will pass
That night Mabel appeared again, smiling, then speaking.
The rusted needle put a curse on you. My tea will give you strength, but only briefly. You must find the one who did this and return his evil. I cant see who it is, but its tied to your husband. If you hadnt thrown the needle away, I could have told you more.
She gave Eleanor a new plan. Buy a pack of needles, and over the biggest one say, Spirits of the night, hear me! Help me uncover the truth and find my enemy. Slip that needle into your husbands bag. The person who cast the spell will prick themselves on it, and well learn their name.
Mabels apparition faded like mist.
Eleanor woke still feeling poorly but convinced she would recover, certain Mabel would watch over her. I decided to stay home and look after her, surprised when she asked to run an errand alone.
Eleanor, dont joke. You can barely stand. Ill go with you, I said.
James, make a soup; Ive got a terrible appetite after this illness, she replied.
She followed Mabels instructions. That evening the cursed needle lay in my bag. Before bed she asked, Are you sure youll manage on your own? Should I stay?
Ill be fine, she answered.
She felt better, though she sensed the lingering evil. By the third day the tea acted like an antidote, weakening whatever malevolence remained. She waited anxiously for me to return from work and greeted me at the door.
How was your day? she asked.
Fine, why?
She was about to think the matter was settled when I added, Imagine this: today Iwona from the next department tried to help me, reached into my bag for my office keys and pricked herself on a needle. Where did that needle come from? She glared at me as if shed kill me with a look.
Whats this Iwona? she asked.
Youre the only one that matters to me, Eleanor. I love only you, I replied.
Was she at my birthday dinner? she probed.
Yes, just a colleague, nothing more.
Suddenly everything clicked for Eleanor. She understood how the old needle had ended up in my bag. I went to the kitchen where dinner was waiting. Later that night Mabel showed Eleanor how to turn the evil back onto Iwona. She explained that Iwona wanted to eliminate me as a rival and take my place beside me; if she failed, shed resort to magic again. That woman would stop at nothing.
Eleanor did exactly as Mabel advised. Soon I announced that Iwona was on sick leave, claiming she was gravely ill and the doctors were helpless.
Eleanor asked me to drive her out to the village for a weekend, to the cemetery she hadnt visited since my grandmothers funeral. She bought a bunch of flowers, wore gloves, and painstakingly cleared the overgrown grass from the grave. She found Mabels headstone, read the inscription, and realised the woman who visited her in dreams was the very one who had saved her from death. Eleanor tidied the grave, placed the flowers in a vase of water, sat on a bench and spoke:
Grandmother, Im sorry I didnt come sooner. I thought a yearly visit was enough. I was wrong. Ill be here more often. Without you, I might not be here at all now.
It felt as if Mabels hands rested on her shoulders. Eleanor turned, but only a gentle breeze brushed past.
