On The Beach

There was a short silence. "It's messy," she said at last. "I suppose if everybody gets it all at once, there's nobody to help you. No doctors, and no hospitals?"

"I shouldn't think so. I think this is the thing you've got to battle through with on your own."

"But you'll be here, Peter?"

"I'll be here," he comforted her. "I'm just telling you to cover the thousand to one chance."

"But if I'm all alone, who's going to look after Jennifer?"

"Leave Jennifer out of it for the moment," he said. "We'll come to her later." He leaned towards her. "The thing is this, dear. There's no recovery. But you don't have to die in a mess. You can die decently, when things begin to get too bad." He drew the smaller of the two red boxes from his pocket.

She stared at it, fascinated. "What's that?" she whispered.

He undid the little carton and took out the vial. "This is a dummy," he said. "These aren't real. Goldie gave it to me to show you what to do. You just take one of them with a drink-any kind of drink. Whatever you like best. And then you just lie back, and that's the end."

"You mean, you die?" The cigarette was dead between her fingers.

He nodded. "When it gets too bad-it's the way out."

"What's the other pill for?" she whispered.

"That's a spare," he said. "I suppose they give it you in case you lose one of them, or funk it."

She sat in silence, her eyes fixed on the red box.

"When the time comes," he said, "they'll tell you all about this on the wireless. Then you just go to Goldie's and ask the girl for it, over the counter, so that you can have it in the house. She'll give it to you. Everybody will be given it who wants it."

She reached out, dropping the dead cigarette, and took the box from him. She read the instructions printed on it in black. At last she said, "But, Peter, however ill I was, I couldn't do that. Who would look after Jennifer?"

"We're all going to get it," he said. "Every living thing. Dogs and cats and babies-everyone. I'm going to get it. You're going to get it. Jennifer's going to get it, too."

She stared at him. "Jennifer's going to get this sort of-cholera?"

"I'm afraid so, dear," he said. "We're all going to get it."

She dropped her eyes. "That's beastly," she said vehemently. "I don't mind for myself so much. But that's… it's simply vile."

He tried to comfort her. "It's the end of everything for all of us," he said. "We're going to lose most of the years of life that we've looked forward to, and Jennifer's going to lose all of them. But it doesn't have to be too painful for her. When things are hopeless, you can make it easy for her. It's going to take a bit of courage on your part, but you've got that. This is what you'll have to do if I'm not here."

He drew the other red box from his pocket and began to explain the process to her. She watched him with growing hostility. "Let me get this straight," she said, and now there was an edge in her voice. "Are you trying to tell me what I've got to do to kill Jennifer?"

He knew that there was trouble coming, but he had to face it. "That's right," he said. "If it becomes necessary you'll have to do it."

She flared suddenly into anger. "I think you're crazy," she exclaimed. "I'd never do a thing like that, however ill she was. I'd nurse her to the end. You must be absolutely mad. The trouble is that you don't love her. You never have loved her. She's always been a nuisance to you. Well, she's not a nuisance to me. It's you that's the nuisance. And now it's reached the stage that you're trying to tell me how to murder her." She got to her feet, white with rage. "If you say one more word I'll murder you!"

He had never seen her so angry before. He got to his feet. "Have it your own way," he said wearily. "You don't have to use these things if you don't want to."

She said furiously, "There's a trick here, somewhere. You're trying to get me to murder Jennifer and kill myself. Then you'd be free to go off with some other woman."

He had not thought that it would be so bad as this. "Don't be a bloody fool," he said sharply. "If I'm here I'll have it myself. If I'm not here, if you've got to face things on your own, it'll be because I'm dead already. Just think of that, and try and get that into your fat head. I'll be dead."

She stared at him in angry silence.

"There's another thing you'd better think about," he said. "Jennifer may live longer than you will." He held up the first red box. "You can chuck these in the dust bin," he said. "You can battle on as long as you can stand, until you die. But Jennifer may not be dead. She may live on for days, crying and vomiting all over herself in her cot and lying in her muck, with you dead on the floor beside her and nobody to help her. Finally, of course, she'll die. Do you want her to die like that? If you do, I don't." He turned away. "Just think about it, and don't be such a bloody fool."

She stood in silence. For a moment he thought that she was going to fall, but he was too angry now himself to help her.