by Dawson, H A
‘No, that’d be too obvious.’ He ran his hand across his cheek. ‘There’s always her daughter, Brittany. I have a picture of her from the paper years ago. She’s not changed much.’
Angela grinned. ‘Where can I find her?’
Brittany leaned back into the chair and stared at the pile of books on the floor that had to be returned to the shelves. She would do it tomorrow. There were only fifteen minutes to go before her workday ended and she was sapped of strength. She would go home, have a lie down, and then she would be revitalised for her trip to the hospital. The last thing she wanted was for either Jason or Ethan to notice her fatigue.
Vacantly, she watched the children trot between the aisles, and glanced to the clock upon the far wall. Her eyelids started to close. Fighting her extreme tiredness, she jolted, smoothed her hand across her face, and made a decision to leave. She was no use to anyone in this state, and her colleague had already arrived to take over the shift. She announced her departure, grabbed her belongings and exited the department.
Heading through the main entrance was a group of students, each carrying bags or books, and chattering enthusiastically. She stood aside to let them through and gazed through the window. The sun was intense; it was a wonderful evening to be out. She strode through the doors, searching for a lift, and welcomed the warmth upon her face.
‘Excuse me,’ a woman said.
Brittany stopped and turned around. The woman had wavy mid-brown hair, a coarse complexion, and large lips.
‘Are you Brittany Handley?’
‘Yes.’
‘You probably don’t remember me. My name is Angela Smithson. I was a nurse in the renal department.’
Brittany looked to her uniform, partially hidden by her coat. ‘Sorry. I don’t remember.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do. I must say you’re looking well. You were such a sick little girl. I was so pleased when they found a compatible kidney. How are you doing?’
‘Good.’
‘That’s fantastic news. I’m so pleased for you. You were always one of my favourites, and the other nurses too.’
Brittany was pensive. She had seen Angela before, but she was sure it wasn’t on the renal ward. She would have remembered.
‘Look,’ Angela said, ‘I know this is a bit off the cuff, but I’m doing some research on transplant patients. Would you mind me asking you a few questions?’
‘I’m a bit busy right now. I have to be somewhere.’
‘Sorry, I meant later. You would be helping me immensely. I’m trying to ascertain realistic patient expectations.’
‘Do you still work there?’
‘No, but that’s where my interest lies. I’m hoping that if I show an interest, it’ll improve my chance of a transfer. You would be doing me a huge favour, and of course, it will be confidential. Your name won’t be attached to anything.’
‘Can you give me a ring later?’
‘Thanks, that’s fantastic.’ Angela pulled out her phone and tapped in the digits.
‘Sorry,’ Brittany said. ‘I have to dash.’
‘I’ll call in a few days.’
The buzzing sound was persistent and grating. With a groggy head and swirling eyes, Brittany leaned to the alarm and pressed the off button. She had only been asleep for just over half an hour, yet it felt much more, and her head ached. Fighting nausea, she willed herself upright and plodded to the bathroom. All she could manage was a painful dribble. Jerry O’Riordan may have been right; she may need his services very soon.
If the department was corrupt and she was in favour with Jerry O’Riordan, her chances of receiving treatment may be improved. Alternatively, if he knew she was stirring the waters it could have a negative effect upon her. She plodded to the kitchen, regretting her actions.
She retrieved ham slices, cheese, and margarine from the fridge, and bread from a bread bin, and proceeded to make a sandwich. Her enthusiasm was lacking. Telling herself she needed the energy, she took it to the table and nibbled the edges. Each bite was an effort; her mouth was dry and her throat seemed constricted. Relenting to her nausea, she wrapped it in polythene and placed it in the fridge, and for the next half an hour sipped an herbal drink.
It was time to leave. She retrieved her bag and coat, glanced into the mirror at her pasty-white face, and headed to the bus stop. Within minutes, it arrived. Having shown her pass, she strode to a vacant pair of seats, avoiding eye contact with the other passengers, and trained her eyes forward. It was something she did as a matter course, a way of dealing with the churn, but today it did little to help. The bus shuddered to a halt and then lurched forward as it restarted. She sucked her tongue and focused on nothing but her insides. Even breathing was difficult. One sudden gulp of air and she sensed she would vomit.
The arrival of her stop was a welcome sight, and the fresh air more so. She perched onto a bench and inhaled and exhaled, and waited for her stomach contents to slip back into position. After a few minutes, and driven by a need to see Jason and Ethan, she proceeded to the building.
Her stride lightened as she travelled through the hospital doors, along the corridors and up a lift. The place was buzzing with visitors, old and young alike, and it masked the hushed anxiety that was always present. Instead, there was laughter, lively banter, and smiling faces. It was the best time of day, visiting time.
As she approached the renal department, she suddenly feared seeing Dr O’Riordan and hesitated her stride. If he had seen her flee from her mother’s house, he would wish to question her and she would have to pretend she had not witnessed the conversation. Given she was not very good at lying, she knew he would see through her masquerade. It was a chance she was going to have to take.
Her gait tightened and her head dropped as she slipped past the reception desk, along the corridor, and into the ward. Only then did she lift her gaze. Ethan was at the far end and Jason had his back turned. She hurried towards them.
Ethan met her gaze. ‘Hello Brittany.’
‘Nice to see you again young man.’ She flashed a smile at Jason. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I watched cartoons on television earlier, and then played with Jack. He’s over there.’ He pointed. ‘He’s nice.’
She pulled up a chair. Ethan was looking better than she expected and had quite a bit of colour in his cheeks. It was great to see. ‘Glad you’re feeling better.’
Jason looked to her. ‘They’re trying new medication. It seems to be helping.’
‘Daddy likes you,’ Ethan said, ‘I think I do too.’
‘And I like you, and I want you to get better so we can go places together.’
‘Where to?’
‘Anywhere you fancy?’
‘I don’t know. Are you going to be my mummy?’
‘Brittany’s just a friend,’ Jason said quickly.
She glimpsed at him, noting the pinking of his cheeks. He avoided eye contact.
‘Oh,’ Ethan said. ‘When I go home I’ll show you my collection of football cards. I’m only missing three and then I’ve got the whole set.’
He continued to chatter, telling her about his favourite football players, the matches he had seen, and the game in general. Then he switched subjects, and told her about his music lessons with his father.
‘Daddy plays,’ he said, ‘have you heard him?’
‘No, I’d like to though.’
‘I want to be as good as him when I grow up. Do you play?’
‘No. Can you teach me?’
Ethan nodded enthusiastically, and then continued to tell her the order of keys. His knowledge was admirable and she concluded he must have spent a lot of time by his father’s side, listening and learning.
It seemed like only minutes since she arrived, when someone called out that visiting time was over.
Ethan’s face sank. ‘I don’t want you to go Daddy,’ he said, clinging to Jason.
‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’
‘When can I go home?�
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‘I’ll see if I can find out. Soon I hope.’
Jason kissed his son on his cheek and attempted to free himself, but the more he pulled back, the tighter Ethan’s grip became.
‘No Daddy.’
Jason’s face scrunched. He uncurled his son’s fingers.
‘See you tomorrow. Sleep tight.’
They walked out. She did not speak, and felt the pain of the separation weighing down upon Jason. It took until they exited the lift on the ground floor before the silence was broken.
‘Thanks for coming,’ Jason said, ‘He hasn’t been that animated for ages.’
‘That’s okay. And don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine.’
Up ahead was a sign pointing to the café and Jason hesitated. ‘Do you mind if we go somewhere else?’
‘No, of course not.’
He puffed out. ‘I’m sick of this place.’
They strode through the double doors and into the refreshing air. The sun was setting, the light level dipping, and the sky had an orange glow. A shiver ran up her spine. It was beautiful, mystical, and romantic. She glimpsed at Jason. His expression was serious and his hands were stuffed into his pockets.
‘Fancy a stroll?’ Jason asked.
Her fatigued screamed out; she did not have the energy. ‘Where to?’
‘There’s a small park around the corner with a duck pond.’
‘Okay.’
He looked to her, concerned. ‘Are you warm enough?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You look a bit cold.’
She knew her skin was ashen, a sign of her illness. Perhaps it was better to appear chilled. ‘Maybe a little. I’ll warm up soon enough.’
They strolled through the car park and across the road, and then along an alley where she could see a green space. She was starting to trail, and the pressure on her lungs increased. Determined to avoid his pitiful stare, she forced herself onwards and masked her exertion. It seemed to work, as he neither slowed down nor looked to her with a concerned sympathy.
Just ahead, was a bench, and it rested in the full glow of the sun. She was grateful for the relief.
‘I’m glad you asked to see me,’ Brittany said, ‘there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.’
He glanced, expressionless.
‘You know I’m hiring a private investigator, Luke Adams? Well-’
‘I can’t believe you’d tell them. You promised.’
Her guilt was emblazoned into her face.
‘They were asking questions,’ he continued, ‘I have enough on my plate.’
‘I’m sorry. I wanted to warn you. They’d already found out about the problems in renal, and they were investigating it.’
He drifted a few steps away. ‘I should never have told you.’
‘It wasn’t my fault! I told you before that I’d hired them because of my mother. She killed someone, Scott Cole, but I think there’s more to it. I’m not necessarily saying she’s innocent, but-’
‘Why do you care? You’re not even on speaking terms.’
She brushed her hands across her arms. ‘It seemed like a good idea.’
‘Does she know what you’re doing?’
‘No, and she mustn’t.’
Jason shook his head, dismayed.
‘I heard her talking to Dr O’Riordan. They were involved in something together. If she finds out what I’ve done she’ll never forgive me.’
‘You have to call it off.’
‘I can’t.’ She looked to her lap.
‘Why ever not?’
‘There’s nothing I can do. It’s going to happen regardless of what I say.’
Jason held his hands to his mouth. There was a wild gaze in his eyes. He turned away.
‘It’s not my fault!’ she said, ‘I didn’t know it would lead to this.’
‘You must have had an incline.’
‘Why would I? As far as I was concerned, Scott’s death had nothing to do with the hospital.’
Pensive, he held his gaze. He was thinking her naïve, thinking she had betrayed him, but she would never do that. She could blurt out a whole string of excuses, make him realise she had not acted in an underhand manner, but the pain of his accusations, and the sight of his fury shocked her into silence. Besides, his mind was made up.
‘But you told them about the O’Riordan and the priority list,’ Jason said.
‘They already knew.’ He reply was weak.
‘So you’re telling me you didn’t tell them anything.’
‘Jason . . .’
‘So how did they know?’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’
He gave her a disbelieving look and strode to the duck pond, where he gazed at the mallards and coots ambling in the dying light. She had not been disloyal, despite what he might think, yet still her abdomen tightened.
‘Is there nothing you can do to stop it?’
She shook her head.
‘Have you any idea what you’ve done?’
‘Why does it matter? You’re not involved.’
He ran his fingers through his hair and rested his hands upon the back of his head, and looked straight through her, frantic and with dancing eyes. ‘If the department closes Ethan will . . . God! What if they stop his treatment?’
‘That won’t happen. There will still be a renal department, and there are other hospitals.’
‘But where? Twenty miles away? I can’t afford to travel every day. I’d have to move.’
‘It won’t come to that.’
He puffed out. ‘I should never have told you.’
‘I never told Luke, I promise. He found out from elsewhere.’ She strode towards him and reached to his hand. ‘I would never put Ethan in danger, never. I’ve been in his position, remember. I know what it’s like.’
‘And you should have had a sense of how desperate you’re mother would have been.’
‘What are you saying?’
He shook his head. ‘Come on, it’s getting cold out here.’
‘Jason?’
‘Forget it.’
A hollow sensation swelled inside. Jason was involved, just as her mother had been, and possibly every other parent in the department. How many lives was she affecting? Her blood drained. She glanced at Jason and to his sour expression and hunched shoulders.
‘Do you know what’s actually happening?’ she asked.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘It might be immoral, but it’s not necessarily illegal. Maybe the implications won’t be so great.’
‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’
Brittany’s face scrunched. She didn’t but she had to cling to something.
Chapter 13
The city centre traffic was burdensome. Up ahead, as far as Luke could see along the half a mile stretch, were vehicles, creeping along at little more than a metre at a time. His head was rested upon the headrest, the sounds of the radio were gently seeping into his ears, and his gaze was vacant.
He was grateful for the delay; a day at the office did not fill him with gratitude.
A flush of warmth washed over him and a self-satisfied expression settled upon his face, as music, laughter and sensual aromas replayed in his head. It had been a while since he had felt as happy, as free from everyday distresses and the confused thoughts of Sarah, and it was a fantastic sensation. Maybe he could take Crystal out again tonight. It was the perfect antidote for his anxieties.
He felt his mobile phone though the fabric of his jacket and looked to the queue ahead. He was nearing the traffic lights, but it could be a while before his wheels rolled freely. Should he call and listen to her soft, dulcet tones one more time? He decided he would, but before he could extract his phone, the traffic started to move.
He turned left at the lights, then made a sharp right and headed along a side street, following other eager drivers who were also avoiding an often congested roundabout, but when he joined a short queue at another
junction he wondered if he had made a wise decision. Thankfully, the delay was minimal and within seconds, he was moving again. He arrived at his workplace a few minutes later.
The lights were on, and coming from within was a faint shadow of movement. He switched off the engine and gazed at the large front window and the sign, private investigators. His excitement danced as he wondered which details of his night out he should share with Imogen.
He exited his car and headed to the entrance. The bell jangled.
Imogen was carrying a file away from the office and heading into the rear room. She spun around. ‘What time do you call this?’
Luke grinned. ‘It’s not that late.’
‘It is for you. Are you not well?’
He stepped into the office, concealed his smile, and switched on the kettle. ‘Just fancied a lie in.’
She was hovering at her rear, he could smell her, sense her, and feel her scrutinising him.
Their eyes locked and his face split in two. ‘Okay, I give in. I went out last night.’
‘With Crystal?’
‘Yes, with Crystal.’
‘Cool.’
He filled his mug with water and headed to his desk. ‘So go gently on me. I’ve not had much sleep.’
‘Wow! Too much information!’
He gave her a sly smile.
‘You look terrible.’
‘Thanks for that.’
She smiled and averted her gaze.
He probably did look bad. His head was thick, and the sounds of the previous night still rang in his ears, pounding and rhythmical, and screaming into his ear, competing with the drumbeat, was Crystal. He could almost feel her breath on his ear and her soft fingertips roaming. A twisted smile slipped to his face.
From the outset, their connection had been instant and their chatter constant. They had talked about cases he had worked on and the inquisitive mind needed to solve cases, and she had gazed with wonderment. He had impressed her and his pride swelled.
Rarely, had he been able to impress Sarah. She often told him he was wasting his time working on what she considered mediocre cases, and said he would soon grow bored. He should be working for a large company, she had said. When he told her he liked the independence, her eyes had rolled.