Wuthering Heights

said.
    ‘ “Here I am on the brink
of the grave.”
    ‘ “Yes, m’am,” I said.
“Apart from your death, is there anything else I could bring you up on a tray,
like the head of John the Baptist?”
    ‘She stopped jumping up and
down on the bed. “Does my husband know I’m dying?”
    ‘ “I’m not sure, but he has
laid out his black suit.”
    ‘ “Why?” she asked.
    ‘ “He says it’s dead.”
    ‘ “Nelly, tell him,
tell him I am dying with the wind and the rain in my hair,” she said putting
white makeup on her face. She laid back and crossed her arms on her breast.
“How does it look?” she asked.
    ‘ “It looks very
life-like,” I said. It was all I could think of saying.
    ‘Suddenly the wind and the
rain started to blow through her hair. She gave off several low moans. “Oh,
Heathcliff,” she moaned, scratching her groins. “They have all turned to
enemies, Nelly how dreary to meet death on your own.”
    ‘ “I’m sorry, m’am, when it
comes to death we all have to do it on our own,” I said. I watched as Cathy
with her teeth tried to tear open the pillow. She whirled the pillow round and
round her lovely head releasing a snow storm of feathers. She started to
identify the feathers: “This is a wild duck, quack quack; this is a turkey,
gobble gobble; and the pigeon, cro cro. Oh, Heathcliff! If only you were here.”
    ‘ “Look, m’am!” I said,
“you’re not well, lie down and shut your eyes.”
    ‘I dragged the pillow in
the direction of away for she was removing its contents by the handful. “Oh,
Nelly, I have to die to make you happy.”
    ‘ “Of course, m’am.”
    ‘Cathy started her jumping
up and down again. “Oh, Nelly,” she started. Oh fuck, I thought. “This bed”,
she said, “is the fairy cave under Penistone Crags and Heathcliff is with me
making Chicken Tandoori. Oh, Nelly, I long to hear the wind and the rain on my
face,” she said. “Open the window.”

    ‘ “No, m’am, it’s freezing
out there.”
    ‘In one move Cathy dashed
across and opened the window, leant out, then fell out. Before she had gone I
grabbed one ankle and then the other, and there she hung singing and whistling.
I looked down and all there was to see was snow and pubic hairs. After a long
time of using all my strength I managed to pull Cathy in; she was freezing. I
started to chip the ice off with a hammer.
    ‘That moment the nerd of
Thrushcross Grange staggered in; this time, it was Dewar’s Black Label.
    ‘ “Miss Cathy is ill,” I
said.
    ‘ “You’re right, Miss Cathy
is ill, I’ll get help,” he said, and drained the bottle. “Here, let me help you
chip the ice off.”
    ‘ “That girl, Master Edgar,
needs to run barefooted and free on the moor with the wind and the rain in her
hair.”
    ‘ “In her condition that
would kill her,” said Edgar.
    ‘ “Well, she’s been talking
of dying and I thought this would help,” I said.
    ‘Edgar took his timeshare
dying wife in his arms and looked at her with anguish through the floating
feathers.
    ‘Cathy saw him. “Mother,”
she said.
    ‘Edgar shook his head.
    ‘ “Father,” said Cathy.
    ‘Edgar shook his head.
    ‘ “Lord Horatio Nelson rn?”
she said.
    ‘ “No. Cathy, it is I,
Edgar.”
    ‘When she recovered
consciousness, she sneered, “Ah, Ah, you have come, have you Edgar Linton?”
    ‘ “No, no,” he said. “That
was last night.”
    ‘Again, she semi-swooned
saying, “They can’t keep me from the narrow hole in the ground, where my
resting place will be ’fore the spring.”
    ‘ “I know not, master, but
if I were you, I wouldn’t book a double holiday for the time being.”
    ‘ “Catherine, what have you
done?” asked Edgar. Actually she had just done a butler’s revenge, but it
hadn’t reached him yet.
    ‘ “Do you still love
Heathcliff?”
    ‘ “Hush,” said Cathy, “I
want aught but him and his curries, he and I making poppadoms in the wild wind
and rain on the moor; that’s something you and I have never known, have we,
Edgar!”
    ‘ “Her mind is wandering,
sir, it could be anywhere: Lewisham, Neasden or Brixton.”
    ‘Cathy lay scratching her
groins. To deaden the sound Edgar pulled the blanket over her. “You, Nelly,”
said the nerd, “knew how ill my wife was, yet you never told me.”
    ‘I defended myself,
“Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but that is a lot of bollocks.”
    ‘ “A lot of bollocks? How
many would you say?” said Edgar.
    ‘ “I have