by Roddy Murray
She wasn't tired and certainly couldn't have slept. She decided to go for a swim in the hotel pool and found the activity a pleasantly relaxing experience. Afterwards she headed for her room intending to have a nap herself before meeting Blaine for dinner. Dan Bartleman had other plans. When she opened the door there was a hand written note from him asking her to join him in the lounge when she got the message. He was a stickler for protocol with female employees and would never have invited her to his room alone. Doc Zelnik had headed off to Edinburgh for a meeting she now realised was with young Bobby Bartleman and no other chaperone was available. She dressed in smart but business-like clothes and headed for the bar. She was nervous, which was unusual, but this meeting was different to any she had before with Blaine’s boss. The ‘capo di capo’ they would call him when they were alone together. It was said with respect. At most meetings she had attended where Dan was present she was there merely as Blaine’s PA. Blaine dealt with everything thrown at him like the able CEO he was. Any questions addressed to her were usually to do with facts, figures and dates. Now Dan wanted to see her on her own about her future and she was scared to face it without Blaine at her side.
Dan was there in a corner seat working on his laptop and phone simultaneously. He was engrossed and didn't notice her enter the lounge bar at first. When her shoes were in his line of sight he looked up and smiled at her. It seemed to be a friendly smile of concern but she kept her guard up. He abruptly terminated his phone call and rose to his feet, taking her hand and directing her to the chair immediately to his right. She knew this was his better ear.
"Has Blaine explained his situation my dear?" he asked with what seemed like genuine concern in his voice.,
"Yes he has,” she answered, in a more confident voice than she had expected. Blaine’s promise had given her strength.
"Good. Now tell me your understanding of the situation. Blaine and I discussed this in detail earlier. I want to make sure you are on the same wavelength as the two of us. To reassure you, I am pleased the two of you are," he searched for the right term, "an item, shall we say. Blaine is very ill and I am very keen to help him get well in any way I can, for all sorts of reasons. I believe he wishes you to be with him during his forthcoming treatment and," at this he studied Delores carefully for her reaction, "at the other end of things on a more permanent footing."
She didn't blink. "Yes that is my understanding of the situation too. I gather the treatment is somewhat experimental and there are risks involved but I want to help Blaine too and will be by his side every step of the way. He is going to tell Beth about the illness next, and about us in due course after the treatment is completed if it is successful. I am comfortable with that approach."
"Good," said Dan. "Blaine is a lucky man you know. I hope you will be very happy together when all this is over with. In the meantime of course you remain an employee of Nebus. In other words, I expect you to keep anything you discover about the treatment a secret. It is beyond share-sensitive. I have to emphasise this point. Whatever you learn about the treatment Blaine is about to undergo must remain a secret. This is more important than any duty you have undertaken in your employment to date. Do I make myself clear? Any disclosure would leave you liable to legal action and could jeopardise Blaine’s position within the company too. Be clear on that also."
Delores was not entirely sure why Dan was emphasising this point so much. She had never even considered disclosing what she heard or saw in her daily duties to any outside person. Her focus now was certainly not on industrial espionage. It was on Blaine and nothing else. She nodded and confirmed she understood the importance of it and would never do anything to jeopardise Blaine’s future or breach the trust placed in her, and she meant it.
Dan stared at her, reassuring himself that the threat to Blaine would keep her focussed on this point and saw that it would. He relaxed and smiled again.
"Sorry to be a pain but I had to cover that. Will you join me for a drink?"
The old man seemed much more relaxed to Delores now and also seemed intent on being sociable. He called a waiter over and she ordered a gin and tonic while he ordered a Macallan. While they waited he chatted away about all sorts of things, including some tales of dodgy dealings in his youth as he made his fortune. He was actually quite good company she thought, once he finally relaxed. He even ignored a number of calls on his mobile in order to deliver the punch lines of some of his stories. He asked her about her background and upbringing and was impressed at how far she had come from difficult circumstances. All in all he seemed to be a very different person from the one she had met chairing meetings before. She half expected him to ask her out, he was being so charming. But after a while she realised that he was relaxing after being quite stressed about Blaine’s predicament. How touching she thought, and warmed to him just a fraction.
When he had finished his drink he rose and said he had to make some calls in his room. In a very formal, old fashioned way he thanked her for her company and, picking up his phone and laptop headed towards the lift. As he was leaving the table though he stopped and turned towards her again.
"I know Blaine is in safe hands," he said, smiled at her, and headed off to his room.
"Well, well, well," she thought. "So the old bastard is human after all."
She finished her drink and, unusually for her, ordered another. She needed thinking time after all that had happened and knew Blaine had to sleep for a while or at least needed to rest even if he woke. She checked her phone and emails but there were none. Normally both would have been full after even an hour of not checking but strangely the only text was from her sister about a family get together she was organising later in the year. When Dan said he had cancelled Blaine’s schedule he meant it. To stop the emails and phone calls to her as well was on a par with parting the Red Sea. After five minutes she realised waiting on her own with a second drink had been a mistake. Unused to being in a bar without Blaine or other male colleagues she had forgotten how every bar-fly in Christendom had been drawn to her. Clearly unaccompanied, she had attracted the attention of every male in the place even, or perhaps especially, the two married men with their wives. Two sales reps in High Street suits approached and asked if she would like some company. A gun would have been preferable she thought.
"No thank you," she said with a smile that was not in any way friendly or inviting. "I'm waiting for my husband. He'll be here soon."
They nodded and walked off to the bar, one of them with a shrug suggesting it was her loss. She was pretty sure it wasn't. She downed the last of her second gin and tonic and headed back to check on Blaine. There was no response to her gentle tap on the door so she quickly scribbled a note saying she would wait in her room and slipped it underneath.
Back in her own room she tried to take stock of what had happened. She was always in control of her reactions when people were about. It was part of the job of an unflappable PA to take everything in her stride, but all this was overwhelming. Blaine being ill was top of the bombshells which had been dropped. Thereafter most of what she had based her working life upon recently had been blown out of the water too. It was one thing to have a long term relationship with your married boss when it was a secret and that was all it was likely to be. Now she had the option of it becoming a lifetime commitment and that scared her more. Yes; if she was honest she did love Blaine. It had all started as a measure of the distance she had travelled from her childhood poverty but it had grown beyond that now. She did not want to break up any family but if that was a charade anyway then she would prefer to be honest about it all and people could think what they wanted to. Strangely she felt reassured by Dan's audience with her that night. He was a wily old bastard, intent on getting even richer than he currently was, for no good reason she could see. But having such a powerful ally on their side made the future with Blaine a much stronger and more tangible possibility. Either way, most of the decision making was outwith her control. She wanted Blaine to li
ve. Tick. She wanted to spend her life with him if possible. Tick. An option was available for that to happen and Dan was prepared to make it happen. Tick. The rest kind of took care of itself.
She showered again for no reason and put on a negligee. Secretly she thought Blaine would sleep and not appear that night and maybe she wanted that too but she wanted to be ready for him if he came to her room. She lay down in her bed, suddenly exhausted and quickly fell asleep. If Blaine had appeared at her door she might have missed his knock, so soundly did she sleep, but he did not. In his room he slept the sleep of the dead. Or not quite dead.
Chapter Nine
Dr Gibson's office was at the end of another corridor which had a variety of laboratories ranged along it. Some had clear glass on the doors and through the windows Frank saw some cages containing mice, monkeys, rats and other creatures Frank didn't recognise.
The doctor ’s consulting room was as different from Frank's own doctor's as he could imagine. No paperwork or paper files anywhere. It was a very large room with a lot of very new and very expensive looking equipment ranged round the walls. In fact, it looked like Gibson could successfully perform heart surgery without leaving his office.
"Sorry we're late," said Bernadette as they entered.
Dr Gibson didn't look like he was over-worked or rushing for anything any time soon. He had some results to check but was leaving them as a treat for later or even tomorrow. The working day was a very relaxed affair for him. Occasional annual medicals, some researchers asking his opinion on medical matters every now and then, and the odd headache or two which hadn't gone away with a standard painkiller. That was about it really. No, filling his day could be the real hard work. This afternoon was rather nicely filled with meeting Mr Frank Chisholm Esq. and starting an exhaustive series of examinations and tests which should take care of tomorrow afternoon too. They had even arrived a little late, using up another 15 minutes of this Monday.
"No need to apologise Bernie," he said with complete honesty.
She said her farewells to Frank and left. He'd smiled and said see you later in a kind of questioning way to gauge her first impressions of him but could read nothing into her response.
"Now then, I'm Dr John Gibson and please call me John."
The two men shook hands and Frank found an equally firm handshake neutralising his best efforts to hurt the Doc's hand. Dr John Gibson was about 60 or so and looked it but had the still powerful frame of someone who had been a keen athlete in their younger days. Not boxing, Frank judged from the unbroken nose, but a power sport of some kind. A photograph on the wall behind the doctor's desk suggested field athletics. No doubt shot-put or discus.
John continued in a slow and friendly bedside manner explaining the nature of his duties over the next few days.
"I will be conducting a full medical examination with every test any doctor has ever done on you and many that they haven't. There are also a number of detailed health questionnaires which my nurse, Moira, will complete with you. If there is anything you find too embarrassing to discuss with her we can sort it out together but she has been a nurse for almost 40 years and has seen it all."
Frank's heart sank a bit at the likely age of nurse Moira but then there were still possibilities with Bernie or Fiona at reception. Oh, and of course for the next few days at least, Charlotte from Carshalton on the nightshift.
Doc Gibson ran through the personal details they held on Frank from his previous test session. Then he said he would start with the basics; pulse-rate, height, weight, that sort of thing. Frank had been through this stuff so often before, during and after his military service, that it had become routine. Dr Gibson measured, double checked and recorded all the results on the tablet he had produced from his desk. The examination continued with Frank slowly stripping off more layers.
"Need a pee yet?" Gibson asked holding out a specimen jar.
"Could do," said Frank taking it and heading for the door marked toilet.
He returned shortly afterwards with a jar full of pee and handed it to the doctor. Gibson took it gingerly, noting that it had drops of urine on the outside too. Frank had never quite got the hang of that one and had headed back into the toilet to give his hands a good wash.
Next some blood was taken and split into a number of small test-tubes which had already been labelled with Frank's name and had barcodes neatly down the side of each label. The examination wore on and on with Frank lying down, bending over and bracing himself in turn while Doc Gibson, ("please it's John"), poked, prodded and violated every orifice.
Eventually he was done or at least done for the day. Frank got fully dressed again.
"I meant to ask earlier, have you had lunch? Your stomach seemed quite empty during the examination." Frank had not had lunch and was quite impressed the old guy had noticed by that method.
"No, I seem to have missed it out, but I had a good breakfast at the hotel this morning," he said having completely forgotten about food, what with all the poking, prodding and discussions about bodily functions and fluids.
"Would you like a bite to eat now; it's almost three o'clock?"
"I could do with something light to keep me going till dinner at the restaurant tonight. I'll need some energy for the gym and a swim when I get back."
"Of course. Sorry about that." Dr Gibson pressed a button on his desk and a lady about ages with him entered from an adjoining door. "This is my wife Moira who is also the plant nurse."
Frank shook her hand.
"Moira, would you mind taking Mr Chisholm to the canteen? I seemed to have made him miss lunch.”
Moira nodded and gave her husband a look that said "typical" in an affectionate way as she led Frank back out the main office door, round a corner, past reception and up the stairs to the canteen.
Frank had visions of a half-empty cold section with a few tired sandwiches and the cakes and scones which no one else fancied but he was pleasantly surprised to find fresh home baking again on tables with a number of people sitting in groups chatting away in a very unhurried atmosphere.
Moira turned to him and asked: "Would you like anything cooked? I'll organise it with the chef or would you prefer some home baking with coffee?"
"A sandwich of some kind with lettuce, tomato and some dead animal would be nice," he said. "If it doesn't piss the chef off too much."
"He'll be delighted to have something to do. He is on call for fresh food outwith standard meal times till five so have what you want. His Caesar salad is very good." "A ham sandwich would be perfect thanks and I'll drink some fruit juice instead of coffee," Frank added noting some jugs in the cold section with fresh apple, orange and tomato juice in them. He helped himself to a large glass of chilled apple juice.
Moira trotted off to the kitchen while Frank looked round to see if there was anyone he recognised. Brian was sitting at a table with Jon but that was it. He wasn't keen but felt obliged to join them. After all, they would be working together over the next few weeks.
"Hi guys," he said. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," they both replied almost in unison.
"How was your tour?" asked Brian with what seemed like genuine interest.
"Impressive place you have here," said Frank and meant it. "Bernie showed me round the place. It was going well till I met Doc Gibson and he really took the piss."
Frank laughed at the old army chestnut and after a moment’s pause the lads joined in. They gave him a breakdown of how the preparations were going for the calibration tomorrow morning. All seemed to have gone well with the preparations that day and they were hopeful it would be a successful start to the testing the next day. Moira arrived with an immaculately prepared roast ham and salad club sandwich with a side salad created by a sculptor rather than a chef.
"I told you the chef would be happy to prepare anything you wanted. Enjoy! I'll see you tomorrow afternoon and you can tell me all about your ill-spent youth for the first of the questionnaires." She winked and
left him with Brian and Jon.
"Moira's really nice," said Brian. "Bit of a mother hen to the younger staff here like me and Jon. You can ask her pretty much anything you're worried about."
Frank wasn't sure what either of them might be worried about regarding their health but he was convinced he didn't want to know. He ate the sandwich while they continued to brief him on what they had been up to since his visit to the Penicuik suite. They talked
enthusiastically about things he had no understanding of. While they talked he enjoyed his sandwich. The ham was beautifully home cooked, probably by the chef himself. There was Dijon mustard there too and the salad had a delicate French dressing, no doubt "drizzled" over it. Again, it had to have been home-made by a bored chef keen to impress. Let the lads talk, he thought, and keep the food coming, and these three weeks will be a breeze.
After he was finished the sandwich and there was a pause in the conversation he asked them what was next for him. They looked at him fairly blank.
"If the Doc's finished with you then you're done for today," said Brian.
"Really. That was all painless and easy for the first day. How do I get back to the hotel?"
"Just get Jim to drive you back. He should be waiting in the car park. He'll be your transport each day."
Frank was impressed again but this time by how important he must be to get all this special treatment. He said his good-byes, picked up his, as yet un-needed, sports bag and headed for the stairs.
"You won't need that this week," shouted Jon. Without looking round Frank gave him a thumbs up and took the stairs two at a time. He smiled a farewell at Fiona on reception who seemed to have warmed to him a bit and smiled back with a friendly wave.