Free The Fire by Robert White Page A

smiled.
    "Yeah, right."
    I found some paper towel and dabbed at her forehead and face.
    "Thanks, Des..." she whispered and fell into a merciful sleep.
    I sat with her for a while and finished both glasses of whiskey. She appeared to have settled so I crept out into the garden and lit up.
     
    Donald was sitting on an ornate cast iron bench bathed in the late afternoon sunshine. He nodded at my pipe and then gestured toward Anne's makeshift bedroom.
    "Not made you give up then? Seeing her, I mean?" he said.
    I shrugged. "We're all going to go one day, Donald."
    He looked pale. He shook his head ruefully. "But not like that, eh? Not in agony."
    I didn't have an answer.
    Donald leaned forward.
    "I suppose she asked you?"
    I nodded.
    "I knew she would," he said. "She asked me over a week ago. It's the pain talking, not Anne. She can't bear it anymore. I'd probably be the same...I know what she wants, but..."
    I finished his sentence for him. "But you can't do it."
    Donald sat up straight. "It's a sin, Des. Taking a life is against the Commandments."
    I tapped what was left in my pipe out onto the heel of my boot.
    I wanted to say that shagging my wife was enough to put him on God's shit list. He certainly wouldn't be taking Communion any time soon. But what good would it do?
    I'd heard and seen enough.
    "I was raised a Catholic, Donald, just like you. But sin doesn't come into this one, pal. This is mercy."
     
    I walked back to the house, found the bottle of whiskey where I'd left it and drank straight from the neck.
    Standing in the kitchen, I studied the wall clock. I was instantly transported back to 1974 and my own family's kitchen in Glasgow. I could smell the mince and potatoes cooking on the stove, hear the traffic rumbling over the cobbles outside, and my stomach lurched with fear, just the way it had that day.
    The big hand was just about to click over to ten to four. I looked at my feet, fully expecting to see my elder brother's steel toe capped boots,
    The pair I'd tied so tight as I prepared to fight big Tam.
    Of course, all I saw was my Timberlands.
     
    Stepping into the hallway, I quietly opened the door to the lounge. Anne was still out of it, moaning softly. Her breath rattled in her throat.
    I knelt at the foot of the bed and inspected her medication pump. It was full and ready to administer.
    Taking her hand I wrapped her fingers around the button that would release the drug. As I squeezed there was a clicking sound as the machine delivered its measured amount of relief.
    Despite being asleep, she sighed as the meds entered her bloodstream taking away her pain.
    I stroked her forehead for a moment. I wanted to say so many things to her, but I knew, if I didn't do this thing immediately, I would lose my nerve.
    Reaching for the mechanism under her bed, I began my awful task.
    It was a simple electronic timer valve connected to a piston style pump. First, I removed the feed tube from the valve and secured it in an upright position so I didn't lose any of the available drugs. I pulled the valve from the pump and reconnected the feed tube directly to the filler.
    Without the valve timer to control the pump, each time it was emptied, it would simply refill until the entire amount of drug was used.
    I stood and looked at the love of my life, held the button in my hand, kissed her one last time and prayed God would forgive me.

Lauren North's Story:
     
    Rick and I flew to Glasgow for the funeral. I'd spoke to Des every day since Anne had passed. I could tell from his voice that he'd taken the whole thing badly, but when I saw him waiting in the arrivals hall, I was shocked by his appearance. He looked like he'd aged ten years.
    Des didn't want to be part of the funeral cortège so we drove straight to the chapel. He again elected to be as far away from the close relatives as possible and stood with us at the back throughout the service. Finally, we joined the end of the small procession from the church to the