by Paul Watson
‘You’re going nowhere tonight, I need you here, and you need me. Kiss Sam, have a shower and come and sit out on the patio with me.’
Andy showered, put on shorts and kissed his little son’s head. Sam was quiet, lying flat on his back with his legs over the side of the bed. No worries for him; a giant plush crocodile lay next to him and provided sleep time security.
Max and Andy had jet washed the patio last weekend. The slabs glowed under the lights installed by Andy while Max had held the ladder.
Jess sat at the smaller of the two tables nearer to the house; darkness approached. She drank red wine from the good glasses: the best wedding presents.
‘Sit down and stop thinking,’ she said.
Andy sat and placed his passport on the table, along with his boarding pass.
‘I miss him so much; I can’t stop thinking about him, should we be drinking wine tonight?’
Jess poured him a glass. ‘You need to rest now and sleep; thinking won’t help Max tonight.’
‘There is a drug he might need, it’s manufactured in Ireland.’
‘And you’ll get it for him tomorrow.’
A toast crumb fell off the table as Andy reached for his glass; Sam’s breakfast debris had proved elusive to the dustpan. It had been Alfresco dining for weeks, the four of them together, with meals lasting longer than in winter, even the occasional conversation with Max.
‘Steve’s dead.’
‘Was it that shooting at the college earlier? I saw it on the news.’
‘Yeh, I don’t know what he got caught up in, but it’s something to do with that chemical Max drank. The police think it’s all linked to last night.’
‘Are we safe?’
Andy didn’t answer, but strolled over to a plant on the patio and picked the dead flower heads off one by one until he could hold no more ‘I need to be busy.’
The doorbell rang. Jess returned inside the house and answered the door.
‘Sorry it’s so late,’ said the man at the door. The man held out a warrant card. ‘I’m Mike Baker CID. I’ve been trying to get hold of your husband all-day, can we come in please?’
‘Come through to the garden. Do you mind being quiet as my little boy’s asleep upstairs?’
‘No problem.’ Mike and a younger man, both in long trousers and checked blue shirts, followed Jess down the hallway, through the kitchen and into the garden.
‘Andy?’ Mike said. Mike didn’t ask before taking a seat at the patio table and his colleague sat next to him.
‘Hi, Can I get you a drink?’
‘No thanks,’ said the younger man. ‘I want to get home too and put on my shorts.’
‘I’ll have water if that’s all right please,’ said Mike. ‘It’s hard to drink enough fluid on a hot day like this.’ Mike glanced at the passport and boarding pass on the table.
‘Sure, I’ll get glasses,’ Jess said and walked into the kitchen before returning with four plastic cups and a jug of water.
‘I believe you’ve met a few of my colleagues. Rob called me and told me about your son, and about your friend too. We need to go through, what’s happened to you; let’s start from last night, Tom will write.’
Tom breathed deep and picked up his pen.
An hour and a half later, they finished the statement. Mike stood. ‘No time to get your shorts on tonight Tom, an early start again tomorrow.’
‘Are you both off duty now?’
‘Yeh, it’s a shame you live so far out in the sticks. I might have treated young Tom to a pint if we were in town.’ Strip lights embedded in the mortar joint of the lawn’s block border glowed white. ‘Nice place; did you do the garden yourself?’
‘I got men in to do the landscaping, but I’ve taken care of the planting. Do you want a coke from the fridge?’
‘Yes please mate,’ said Tom.
‘Follow me.’
Andy opened the door to the garage, pressed a switch, and strip lights, fixed to the roof trusses, illuminated the concrete floor. Galvanised racks, loaded with old cd’s, gardening tools, and fishing gear, lined the walls; four bikes hung on a stand on the end wall; two large bikes at the top and then a child’s bike and a ladies bike at the bottom.
The small fridge sat on one shelf, near a power socket. ‘Max got this when we drove to the tip. I was trying to get rid of stuff, but he’d always wanted a fridge in the garage, since we went to one of Steve’s barbecues.’ Tom inspected the concrete floor. ‘What would you like?’ Andy opened the fridge door which revealed several cans and bottles; lager and a few cokes.
‘Would love a Stella but will stick with the coke, cheers.’ Tom stepped forward, took the can from Andy and walked back out to the patio with his drink.
‘Do you fish?’ Mike said.
‘I’ve taken the boys a few times; we catch nothing though.’
‘You’ve got all the gear: landing mats, nets; what do you fish?’
‘Carp, they’re not the easiest fish to catch, but the lake near our holiday place is full. I bought all the kit, and we’ve been trying for years. The nearest we ever got was last year; Max got a bite. It was worth it for that; similar to the scene from Jaws but with a smaller float flying through the water. The Carp made it to the Lilly pads before we could land him.’
‘What bait do you use?’
‘We buy stuff from the local shop, not sure what.’
‘Try luncheon meat, two pieces on the hook. Should give you a few more bites.’ Mike paused. ‘I dropped into the hospital today and spoke to the doctors, what did they tell you?’
‘That they would watch Max overnight and he’d be awake in the morning.’
‘Sometimes we hear what we want to hear; sometimes we say what’s easiest to say. I spoke to the doctor, and he told me the chance that Max will wake up again unaided is negligible. An experimental drug has paralysed a part of his brain associated with waking. The only chance would be to give him the antidote.’
‘Are you trying to make me drink the weed killer?’
‘The things I’ve seen today and yesterday show me that getting hold of this drug is a huge deal for someone. If you get involved, then it’s likely you’ll get yourself killed. I’m getting a feeling you’d find that an acceptable risk.’
‘And?’
‘You lost a friend today, time to make new ones. Keep me posted on what you’re doing. You call me any time, night or day and I’ll answer. I’ll do what I can, which might be a lot.’ Mike Baker handed over his card.
‘Why do you care?’
‘What’s the most important tool in the box?’ Mike tapped the yellow toolbox sitting on the floor under the shelving.
‘I don’t know, a pair of pliers?’
Mike tilted his head to one side. ‘Not in my experience. I don’t have the keys to my toolbox though. My boss keeps them on the high shelf.’
‘Are you two coming out?’ Jess called from the yard, the wine had relaxed her volume control.
Mike emerged. ‘Tom’s not the most stimulating company I know.’
‘He’s very chatty.’ Jess’s cheeks were pink from the alcohol. Tom’s cheeks turned pink too.
Andy joined them and left the garage door open. ‘Good luck both of you tomorrow and stay safe. I’ll call you if I know anything.’
Mike and Tom finished their drinks and Jess let them out through the back gate.
Jess sat at the table. ‘Let’s go to bed Andy; there’s no point staying up any later.’
‘OK, but I’ll not be sleeping until Max is awake. I’ll get the first flight out in the morning to Dublin.’
The guinea pigs squeaked in their cage over by the garage wall. Sam and Max had wanted a dog, and Andy promised he’d buy one, but first they had to prove their worth as animal handlers. Andy had bought the guinea pigs from a pet shop, in the school holidays, about five years ago.
The guinea pigs’s continued wellbeing was not because of Max and Sam’s expert care. After two days of stroking t
he animals, Max and Sam had abandoned them; Andy had gained two more dependents. Cleaning the sawdust and poo from the hutch had become a ritual along with homework supervision.
An unusual scraping noise came from the wooden enclosure.
‘I meant to tell you about that, I saw it earlier.’ Jess said. ‘I think they’ve chewed through the side wall, looks like they’re trying to push it out. They might get out overnight.’
‘It’s not great for them in there this time of year. Better for them than taking chances with next door’s cat though.’ Andy entered the garage and got a piece of plywood, left over from damaged drawer bases. He picked up a few nails, took them outside and placed them with the plywood.
He returned to the garage and opened the toolbox. On the top shelf on top of the pliers was the hammer. Andy used it to bang the nails in hard through the plywood and secured the timbers of the frame. ‘That’ll keep them safe for another night or two.’
TWENTY-TWO
After lunch, Roberts took a shower at Julia’s flat. He set the dial to cold, his skin tingled as he stepped out, and Julia handed him a towel. Roberts took a second shower an hour later, and so did Julia.
‘I need you to go back to London.’ A ray of sunlight shone through the crack in the curtains and onto Julia’s back. She lay naked on the bed with her head on Roberts’s chest.
‘Do you know my hourly rate?’
‘I know how to access Laws’s bank account and I’ve got clearance for up to £100 000 transactions.’
‘I would have made £250 000 if I’d killed you.’
‘Not too late.’ Julia dressed.
‘What do you need?’
Roberts steered the blue BMW into the fast lane. He pushed the pedal to speed past the elephant race of trucks. Roberts preferred train travel but enjoyed this drive, through the evening twilight.
Two hours later, he parked the car on the road outside the hospital, under a broken streetlight, away from the prying eyes of the car park CCTV. Roberts crossed the street and entered the building through the Accident and Emergency doors. A man bumped him.
‘Sorry,’ the man said and ran over to a black Passat.
The queue grew longer at the reception; Saturday night. Police mixed with drunks and teenagers, snaking their way to the glass screen where the gatekeepers awaited. One woman shouted, ‘This queue is ridiculous, we pay our taxes, and we get this.’
Roberts used his time in the queue; he emptied his mind and focussed on breathing; he lowered his heart rate and relaxed his mind.
‘Next please,’ said the reception lady; her eyes acknowledged Roberts.
‘Hello, I’m here to meet Dr Rama, Dr Julia Matthews sent me.’
‘Take a seat in the canteen please, I’ll get him to come down to you.’
More waiting, this time there was a seat available. Roberts hadn’t stretched after his run, and his calves were tight. He reached down and pulled his toes towards him, holding the stretch for a minute on each foot.
Tiredness tempted him to sleep, but this place was too public. Roberts had learned most of the hard lessons before the age of thirty, and a few more afterwards; he now expected the unexpected.
He observed the police uniform first, but the girl with the burly policeman sparked his memory; Roberts made the match; she was the police officer from the custody suite yesterday. He moved to a chair with his back facing them; not ideal. Roberts hoped that Rama would arrive soon. Rama did.
‘Gentleman to see Dr Rama, please come over to reception,’ said the voice from the speaker.
Roberts waited. Police officers: curious, nosy; they would see him when he stood. How long to wait? He didn’t want another announcement. Roberts resisted the urge to stand and clamped his hands to the sides of the chair. He counted to sixty before standing up and walking straight down the aisle, with his back to the officers. At the top of the corridor he turned right and glimpsed sideways; they were chatting, and the big man hugged the girl.
‘Dr Rama, I’m Roberts, you’re expecting me?’
Rama had purple patches under his eyes, and his skin was grey. ‘Hi, thanks for coming, Dr Matthews might be the only hope for a kid I’ve got upstairs. God knows how he got himself into this situation.’
‘I understand that you destroyed the drug?’
‘Yes we’ve done all the tests and destroyed the rest.’ Rama yawned. ‘Sorry, I’ve been working thirteen hours.’
‘The kid’s lucky to have a man like you looking out for him. Can I look at him?’
‘Sure, let’s go.’ They walked to the ward via the stairs; the lift was out of action. ‘So, do you work with Julia?’
‘Yeh, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it; she’s away this weekend with her girlfriends, I owe her a favour though, and I’ve been helping her with her research.’
‘What does she think you’ll find?’
‘I don’t know, she wants to help you.’
‘Julia tells me you’re a hot shot,’ Rama said.
‘She said the same about you.’
They arrived at the ward and entered the bay where Max slept. Roberts took the chart from the end of the bed and flicked through it. He then lifted Max’s eyelids, pinched his skin and looked at his chest.
‘Max looks to be in a similar state to the trial subjects. He’ll need the Reflux to bring him out of this, and fast too. After seventy-two hours the trial animals got into trouble,’ Roberts said.
‘Poor boy,’ said Rama. ‘Can you get any of the Reflux synthesised?’
‘I’ll go over to Tichi in Ireland and try to get it.’
‘OK, you must be quick though. We appreciate it. I’m going home, and I’ll speak to his parents.’
They left the ward and returned to the foyer. Roberts shook Rama by the hand.
‘Say Hi to Julia for me.’ Rama disappeared through a door on his way to the locker room; Roberts paid attention.
Five minutes later, Rama emerged in a polo shirt and left the building. Roberts punched the code into the door mechanism, and it opened. The door to the changing room was on the right.
The room had yellow and red coloured lockers on the wall, a wooden bench around the perimeter, and showers and toilets off to the side. Roberts stood in the shower cubicle and pulled the curtain closed. End of shift, a few more turning in late.
The junior doctor entered the room after a hard day on the wards; at least tomorrow would be quieter. As the door clicked shut, the shower curtain opened, and a hand grabbed him and cupped his nose. The familiar odour of chloroform was the junior doctor’s last memory of Saturday.
Roberts admired the fit of the white jacket, and he couldn’t resist draping the stethoscope around his shoulders. The second time in two day’s he’d impersonated a doctor. Roberts liked this time better; perhaps it was dressing up that made it fun. The climb to Max’s ward was quicker than the first; the lift was operational again and smelled of bleach.
A nurse joined him.
‘Glad that’s fixed, good exercise though, reached my ten thousand steps early tonight.’ The nurse tapped her wrist.
‘I think I’ve reached my record today, thirty thousand.’ Roberts said and looked at his wrist which the white jacket covered.
‘Are you doing the GCC challenge?’
‘Not this year; I couldn’t get my watch to sync.’
The lift arrived, and they got out. The nurse clicked her badge onto the sensor, and the ward door opened; she held the door open for Roberts.
‘Perhaps you could help me, we’re transferring this man up to Birmingham.’ Roberts pointed at Max, asleep in the corner bay. Roberts handed over the piece of paper to the nurse.
‘No problem, I’ll get this checked out, and I’ll send you help.’
The nurse came back with a porter who said, ‘All right boss, where too?’
‘We’ve got transport arranged downstairs.’
The nurse unclipped the line from the drip and the catheter from the stand and fixed them on
the side of the bed.
The porter released the wheels and shoved the bed through the ward doors, out onto the landing. They waited by the trade lift until it arrived and then descended to ground level. As they crossed the foyer, past the canteen, Roberts saw the police officers again. The female officer was saying goodbye and walking to the exit. She would arrive at the door at around the same time as him.
‘Hold on a second.’ Roberts bent down and fiddled with his shoelace. ‘Health and safety.’ Roberts tied the other lace and watched as the officer left the building.
Roberts and the porter got to the exit and pushed the bed past a row of ambulances parked up along the road leading to Accident and Emergency. Two ambulance men were vaping next to their ride.
‘Spurs still good for the title Byron?’ said one of the ambulance men to the porter.
Byron smiled at him. ‘Keeps me dreaming.’
‘You’ve got to have dreams mate.’
‘You do to work in this shit hole.’ Byron laughed. The ambulance men got back to their conversation. There were five ambulances in the queue. ‘Which one?’
‘The one at the end.’ Roberts pointed to the ambulance, near the exit. It was in darkness, and there was no-one near it. They wheeled the bed towards the vehicle.
‘Are you sure Boss?’
‘Yeh, this ambulance is the one they said, they said the crew would be waiting.’
‘Do you want me to check for you?’
‘I’d appreciate it thanks, tell them to hurry if you find them. I don’t want to be standing around here with him for long.’
Roberts watched Byron; the porter stopped and chatted with the two vaping men again who shook their heads and then continued talking as Byron went into the reception.
Roberts left Max by the ambulance, crossed the road and walked to the BMW, under the broken streetlight. He clicked the key and pulled the back seat open. There were pillows, and a duvet piled up on the backseat. Roberts left the back door, near the pavement, open, and walked back across the road to Max’s bedside.
No sign of Byron. Roberts lifted the bag of saline and the urine bag. He then rolled Max onto his side, pulled Max’s knees up to his chin and lowered the bedside.