Blurred Lines

A sliver of light seeped beneath Dolly’s door.  Shadows paced back and forth, while beads of sweat dampened her forehead. She rubbed the cool opal pendant beneath the quilt, trying to sooth her nerves. The door squeaked open, flooding the room with light. Dolly’s heart thrummed against her rib cage. 

The stranger’s imposing figure towered in the doorway. “How are you today, Dolly?” 

Her pulse quickened. “Who are you? Where is my husband? What have you done with Harold?”

He wheeled a trolley across the floor, blocking the exit. “It’s time for your medicine.” 

She sucked in a breath, and pulled the quilt to her chin, her limbs aching from arthritis. “I don’t have any money. Please, please, leave me be.”

He halted a few steps from her bed, and tilted his head to the side. “It’s me, Dolly, It’s Nigel.” 

A flash sparked behind her eyelids. A short circuit of memories. Harold’s funeral twisted like a knife in her stomach. “Oh, Harold, - w- why did you -l -l - leave me?” 

Nigel’s warm hand rested on her back. “I’m sorry, Dolly.”

“He was my angel.” 

“And he loved you very much, I’m sure.”

She winced as she shifted onto her side. “He did.” Wiping the tears, she gazed into her care-givers dark brown eyes, and breathed shakily. “He always said, Doll, you are too skittish.” She sniffed. “I dare say, I think he was right.”

Nigel stood by her nightstand, the top edge of a pewter frame was visible behind a pile of books opened at varying degrees of completion. 

“May I see your photo?” Nigel said.

Proud, and shy at the same time, she nodded. “Harold was so handsome.”

On the bottom of the frame was engraved Mr. and Mrs. Harold Chambers, September 12,1945. 

He handed it to Dolly’s outstretched hand. “You looked beautiful, Dolly.”

With a delicate touch, she ran her finger along Harold’s face. “You know I was fifteen when we married.” She closed her eyes, feeling Harold's embrace as he twirled her along the dance floor. “We were so happy, barely a fight between us in fifty-five years.”

“You’ll need to tell me your secret. Velma and I are in our fifth year. Not sure if we’ll make it to the sixth.”

“Just say your sorry. Oh, and make her laugh, Harold used to make me laugh no matter how angry I might have been. Come to think of it, that got me even more angry, but still there was never a harsh word between us. Don’t go to bed angry. You never know when the end is near.” 

His black curls fell in waves across his forehead as he helped her to sit up. 

She gripped his arms. “Nigel?”

“Yes?”

“I had one of those nightmares.” 

“The one with the eyes?”

“Yes, those piercing blue eyes, staring at me in the dark.” She bit the inside of her cheek. 

“What is it?”

“The man with the blue eyes. He was walking the halls.” A chill shook her to the core. 

“I’ll talk to the doctor about adjusting your medication” 

“But what if he comes back?”

Nigel lifted a plate of biscuits off the trolley wrapped in cellophane. “It’s just a side effect of the medication. You’re safe here.”

She squinted at her watch. “Oh, dear look at the time. We’re well past tea time.”

 “I know, sorry about that, I got held up with a new patient. He was a bit disoriented. Insisted on seeing someone. Said there’d been a mistake.”

“Poor dear. He’ll settle down. We all do eventually.”

He handed her two pills in a tiny cup. “Take these with your cookie, it’ll help with the pain in your back.”

“They’re biscuits, like my mum used to serve. She was a marvel in the kitchen. Three-course meals and not a speck on her apron.”

Nigel's eyes creased at the corners.  “She could teach a thing or two to my wife. The house is a disaster when she cooks.” Pulling a chair along the tile floor, Nigel settled beside her bed. “How’s the pain?”

“I only just took the pills two seconds ago.”

He quirked his mouth on one side. “I meant in general.”

“At my age, you’re bound to start wearing down.” She inhaled deeply. “What’s that smell? Aftershave?”

“My kids got me a bottle of old spice for my birthday.” He leaned in.  “Do you like it?”

“My sister’s boyfriend James, or was it Peter… no it was James, he wore the same cologne. He practically bathed in it. We could smell him a block away.” Dolly covered her mouth as a titter tickled her lips. 

Nigel sniffed his light-blue scrubs. “Too much?”

She patted his forearm.  “You’re fine, dear.” 

“Tea?”

A lightness lifted her spirit as Nigel presented a dainty cup and saucer. “Where did you get that?”

“Don’t tell the others. I brought it from home. I thought it would be nice for a change.”

She ran her finger along the rim. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nigel. It can't be easy dealing with the likes of me. I know I can be a terror.”

His dimples deepened. “If you’re a terror, I’d hate to think what Velma is.” He poured the amber liquid into her cup. 

The cup and saucer clinked in her trembling hands. The feel of china on her lips brought her back to a simpler time. “I remember one time, oh dear, it must have been seventy years ago now. My best friend was supposed to get married to a strapping young man named Jacob Tremble. She was a lovely girl, though a bit head-strong.”

“I know the type.”

“We were to have a party, you know, the kind before the wedding. Just us girls.”

“A bachelorette party? I hope you didn’t get into any trouble?” He winked.

She dunked her biscuit. “Stop teasing.” 

He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “What happened?”

“Oh, yes. Well, it was a catered affair. Nothing too extraordinary. I just remember the gift she gave us.” She lifted the opal pendant from beneath the quilt. “See it has my initials in gold.  DD for Dolly Duncan, I hadn’t married Harold yet.  Helen had one made for herself. It was rather controversial as she wanted her maiden initials. HP for Helen Poole. Her fiancé was none too pleased.” She dabbed the corners of her lips.  “But that was Helen, she did what she wanted.”

“Did he get mad?”

Dolly’s face heated up. “It was a terrible thing.”

“Some guys can’t take a strong woman.”

Dolly balled her fists. “I saw it all. I saw what he did.”

Nigel stood up and felt her pulse. “Hey, it’s okay. We don’t need to talk about this anymore. How about something more pleasant.”

“She never made it to the altar.”

He placed his hand on her forehead, and set her tea cup down on the trolley. “You’re burning up.”

Gripping Nigel's hand, Dolly widened her eyes. “She was murdered.”

“Deep breaths, Dolly. I’m going to give you something to calm your nerves, your heart rate is sky high.”

“It was Jacob. He-- he killed her, I saw it.”

“Lay back. I’m calling the doctor.”

She bit her lip, holding back a scream. “I see her, she’s right there in front of me… Get out of there, Helen!” 

Nigel shook her gently. “Dolly. Look at me.”

Blinking, she focused on Nigel’s chestnut skin. “Helen lived in the apartment across from me. I could see her through the window. She was talking to Jacob, but something happened. He slapped her across the face.” Dolly cupped her cheek as if the sting was real. “Helen backed away from him, but he kept coming.” Dolly squeezed her eyes shut. “He, he- he pushed her. I called out. I shouted her name, but no one came.” Tears stung her eyes. “He kept pushing her.” Dolly covered her face. “She fell, Nigel. She fell from the balcony.” Bile churned in her gut. “I should have saved her. I should have done something.”

The mattress dipped, and Nigel held her in his arms. “You did everything you could. You’d have never made it there in time.”

“When the police found her, she was dead. They said it was suicide, said she couldn’t go through with the marriage. But, I saw him. I saw him--. He did it.” 

Nigel’s face blurred, as her eyes filled with tears.  

“Oh, Dolly. I’m so sorry.” 

“He left after that. No one saw him again.” Visions of Helen’s limp body sent shivers up her spine. “She would never have taken her own life. If she didn’t like something she’d tell you straight out. She would never...”

“I shouldn’t have got you talking about all this.”

“I pray for Helen every night.” Dolly’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’m so tired.”

He tucked the blanket around her shoulders. “Sleep.” 

***

Dolly woke with a start, and clutched her neck. A knock at the door sped her heart. 

Nigel peeked around the door. “Can I come in?” 

“Where am I?”

“You’re at Cedar Residence. It’s time for dinner.” He pushed a wheel-chair beside her bed. “Hop on, I’ll take you for a ride.” 

A child like merriment bubbled in her chest. “Really? Like we did with Mummy and Daddy?”

“Yes, we can go as fast as you like.”

She gritted her teeth, as the throbbing pain pulsed down her legs. “It’s bad today. I can’t move.” 

Nigel scooped her up, and sat her on the edge of the bed. “Let’s get you dressed first.” He presented a pink dress from the three hanging in the closet.

“Oh yes, I like that one.”

He gingerly unbuttoned her nightgown and slid it over her head. There was no shame or sadness as she gazed at the sagging skin. She lifted her arms while Nigel slipped the dress over her head, and slid her arms through the sleeves. “You’ll be the envy of the dinning hall.” 

She leaned against his arm. “You’re such a sweet lad.”

He picked her up and sat her in the chair. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The chatter in the dining hall hummed like a whirring tornado. 

“We have some new residents,” Nigel whispered in her ear. 

“Mummy doesn’t like me talking to strangers.” She bit her lips.

Gliding between the tables, Nigel seated her with three white haired women engrossed in conversation. 

Nigel squeezed her shoulder. “It’s movie night tonight. I’ll make sure you're seated next to someone respectable.”

*** 

The lights dimmed and the reel to reel clicked to life. A black and white title appeared on the screen, “How Green Was My Valley.” 

A man hunched in the seat beside her leaned over. “I love this one.”

“It’s one of my favorites. Roddy is so young.”

“And how he cares for his mother. It breaks your heart that they can’t be together.”

She batted her eyes. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He nodded, squinting in the darkness. “The pleasure is mine.” He nudged a little closer. “Can I get you some popcorn?”

“Oh, how lovely, yes thank you.”

He lumbered out of his chair, and limped toward the popcorn machine. 

Nigel sidled up beside Dolly. “Seems like you two are getting along.” 

Giddy, Dolly bounced in her chair. “This is my favorite movie, and he knows all about it.”

“That’s a good sign.”

The white haired gentleman weaved through the aisle with two bags of popcorn.

“Oh, shoo, he’s coming back.” She patted the chair. “I saved your seat.”

“Aren’t you sweet.”

The movie ended, and pleasantries were exchanged. The dapper gentleman kissed the back of her hand, as the lights brightened the hall. 

A scream lodged in Dolly’s throat. Her chest constricted. 

His blue eyes narrowed. “Small world isn’t it, Dolly.”

“Get away from me.”

“Now, now, don’t be like that. It was an accident.”

“I saw you.” 

A sly smile curled his lips. “She tripped.” He shrugged his shoulders. “What was I to do?” He fiddled with his opal tie clip, initials HP shining under the light. “Now she’ll always be Helen Pool, just like she wanted.”

“How’s everything going over here?” Nigel backed Dolly’s wheel-chair a few inches.

Short breaths strangled her words.“Take. Me. Home. Please.” 

Nigel blocked the man from view. “What’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

Dolly closed her eyes, terrified Jacob would do to her what he did to Helen. “Please, Nigel take me home.”

The man peeked from behind him. “Is there anything I can do?”

Nigel wheeled her out of the room. “She’s just had a long day.”

“Maybe we can meet tomorrow, on the terrace?” His voice trailed off.

Dolly reached back and clutched Nigel’s hand. “Hurry.”

Once in her room, Nigel lowered her on the bed. 

She sobbed into her pillow. 

“What is it, Dolly? Tell me.”

“Harold? Is that you?”