The Truth About Celia Frost

by Paula Rawsthorne

  “But as the weeks passed, those babies began to look sicker rather than better, until even the crying stopped and they would just lie there, dead-eyed. I watched as their skin turned grey, their cheeks sank and their eyes hollowed. Despite all the liquid being pumped into them, they were all losing weight. Soon most looked like shrivelled old men. I’d come to work and one by one they’d be gone, until eventually only two of you were left. It was so upsetting, I had to ask what had happened. I was told that the parents had been with the undertakers and collected the bodies. The nurse said that the high death rate was normal with such sick children, that their chances of survival had always been low. But this only made me more upset. I convinced myself that you were going to end up like the other babies.

  “But it was the doctor who reassured me. I was fascinated by her. I never saw her go home – I’m not even sure she had a home, I think she slept in the clinic at night. She didn’t have time for small talk either. She worked so hard, always shifting between the lab and the babies’ room; monitoring, examining, putting up new drips, taking blood samples. Most of the time she looked exhausted, as though she’d been awake all night. I was in awe of her, to tell you the truth. I’d never met anyone so clever, so dedicated.

  “I didn’t even think that she’d noticed me, but one day she saw me chatting to you. When I realized she was there, I thought I was going to get another telling-off, but I didn’t. She just said to me, ‘It’s best not to get attached to them, you know. It’s easier that way.’

  “I forgot myself, I was so annoyed. I snapped at her, ‘Easier for who? Even if they do die, isn’t it better that they were shown a bit of love?’

  “‘It’s Clare, isn’t it?’ she said.

  “‘Yes,’ I lied.

  “‘Well, Clare,’ she said. ‘You must just trust me. I know it’s distressing when they die, but the challenge is to keep focused, keep strong. When I feel down, I look at this little one.’ She pointed at you. ‘I have great hopes for her. She’s a survivor.’ I tell you what, she said it with such feeling that I believed her.

  “Then, early one morning, I looked out my window and saw there was a storm brewing. I thought about not going in. I felt knackered and I didn’t fancy catching the bus into the wilds and trudging up that endless driveway. But then I thought about you and knew that I had to see you. I couldn’t let you go a whole day and night without anyone talking to you. So I got wrapped up and went for the bus.

  “As soon as I walked in I knew there was something wrong. There was a terrible tension about the place. Something had happened overnight. The other baby was gone and you’d been moved out of the room. When I asked the doctor what was going on, she seemed anxious, flustered. She just said that I should go home; that I wasn’t needed today. She went into the office and came back with a wad of money. She thrust it into my hand. It was loads more than I was owed, but she didn’t care – she just wanted me out of there. She told me that I’d be contacted when I was needed again.

  “I didn’t know what to think – all I knew was that there was no way I was leaving without seeing that you were okay. So I hung around, made myself inconspicuous. Her and the two nurses were too busy to notice. She kept going in and out of the operating room. I watched carefully and memorized the new security code. As soon as the corridor was empty I let myself in.

  “I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I saw you there in your cot, as bright and beaming as usual. Nothing seemed to be wrong. As soon as you saw me you held out your skinny arms and jabbered away through the plastic tent. I said to you, ‘Why are you in here? What have you been up to, you cheeky girl?’ You just blew a raspberry at me, and dribbled. ‘I can’t stay today,’ I said. ‘They’ve told me to go. But maybe they’ll get me back when they sort things out. Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon, I promise.’

  “You looked so sad, as if you understood every word. I knew it was against the rules, but I wanted to cuddle you so much. Just as I was about to unzip the tent, the door started to open. I panicked; I wasn’t meant to be in there. I didn’t even have protective gear on – the doctor would be furious. My first instinct was to hide. I went and crouched under the operating table. It had a green sheet draped over it, which I pulled towards the ground to hide me. I could hear you squealing with delight, thinking I was playing some game. My heart was pounding as I pictured you pointing to me, giving me away. But the next thing I heard was a man’s voice.

  “‘So this is the one? How could you let this happen?’ His harsh voice silenced your squeals.

  “‘I didn’t let it happen,’ came the doctor’s voice. ‘There were always risks involved with using live, volatile viruses. I was convinced that I had it right this time. I made the most minute modification to the virus’s genetic sequence. I couldn’t have predicted that it would have this effect.’

  “‘Didn’t you inject the same virus into both babies?’ he said.

  “‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘The other baby died within forty-eight hours of receiving the injection. The post-mortem revealed an incredibly virulent new strain of the virus. Instead of attacking only the cancerous cells as I’d hoped, this strain invaded all the healthy cells as well, destroying them and multiplying at great speed, leading to rapid death.’

  “‘So why does this child look the picture of health?’

  “‘This is the fascinating aspect of it, sir. The virus isn’t behaving the same way in her. It’s possible that she has her own immunity to it.’

  “‘She may be immune, but could this child still spread the virus?’

  “‘In its present state, yes. It’s blood-borne, so any blood-to-blood contact with her could transmit it.’

  “‘And could it keep spreading?’

  “‘It’s possible that any new hosts could spread it. However,’ she added quickly, ‘it’s vital I have more time. I need to see if this virus develops in her. She’s my longest survivor. My most responsive subject. The multiple cancers I introduced in all the other babies just kept spreading, no matter how I modified the virus, but in her, the tumours aren’t growing as quickly.’

  “‘Aren’t growing as quickly?’ The man raised his voice. ‘We’ve poured millions into your research and your biggest achievement is that! We’ve had treatments for years that can slow the growth of tumours. You convinced us that by these experiments, using human subjects like this,’ he said with distaste, ‘you could create a virus that would eradicate cancer for ever!’ He breathed deeply, lowering his voice. ‘I’m so deeply disappointed, doctor. I was expecting great things from your project.’

  “‘How can you say that when I’ve already achieved so much? And with this baby, I was making significant progress. I just need more time with her.’

  “‘This child could put the population at risk from a fatal virus for which you have no antidote, no cure – so don’t you dare ask me for more time. Luckily for you, the solution to your mess is quite simple. Destroy her before she can infect anyone.’

  “‘But I need her!’ The doctor sounded outraged. ‘I need to study her.’

  “‘The decision has been made. You’ve had long enough. My associates and I have taken an enormous risk in backing you and you have not delivered our cure. We are classing your project as a failure.’

  “‘You can’t do this,’ she pleaded. ‘Setbacks are bound to happen, but we learn from them and make progress. If you close me down now, all those babies would have died for nothing.’

  “‘Maybe, but that’s entirely your fault, isn’t it? You’ve got until tonight. Get rid of this child, dispose of the virus and clear this place out. I don’t want a trace left of what went on here. Do you understand?’

  “‘Yes,’ she said bitterly. He left the room but she remained. She spoke to you. She sounded so broken. ‘I had such hopes for you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

  “You clapped your hands and giggled like you were trying to cheer up this sad lady. I was petrified that she was going to kill you there and th
en. My mind was racing, trying to work out what to do, how I could stop her, but then I heard her walk out of the room. As the door closed behind her, I didn’t have time to think. I just knew I had to get you out of there.

  “When you saw me crawl out from under the table, you shrieked with excitement, but I was desperate for you to be quiet. I kept hushing you as I opened up the tent. You were bouncing up and down, holding out your arms to me. Even though I couldn’t help thinking about that virus in your blood, I picked you up and you clung onto me like a monkey. I remember stroking your cotton-wool tufts of hair, all the time quietening you. There was a box of disposable gowns under your cot. I grabbed a load and completely covered you in them.

  “‘No more noise, Celia. Don’t make a sound,’ I whispered into the bundle. I put my ear to the door; the corridor seemed silent. I edged it open, holding my breath. The coast was clear. I had to stop myself from running as I headed for the entrance, where my bag and coat hung. As I reached it, a voice sprang on me from behind.

  “‘I thought I told you to go home,’ she said, staring at the bundle of gowns in my arms. I was willing you not to move.

  “‘Yes, Doctor. I’m on my way out. I was just disposing of these used gowns.’ I was convinced that she would see right through me. I must have looked so terrified, but she had other things on her mind. You stayed perfectly still.

  “‘Well, for God’s sake dispose of them properly. Don’t be walking around spreading infection.’

  “I nodded and to my relief she walked off down the corridor, bypassing the operating room. I put you, still wrapped up in all the gowns, inside my coat, leaving a sliver of a gap for you to breathe. And with shaking hands I buttoned the bulging coat up and walked out into the wild storm that was raging. As I crossed the threshold the outside light flashed on and I knew that the security camera would be filming me.

  “I started to panic as I pictured the doctor entering the room and discovering you were gone. I cradled my arms around the bump and started to run. The storm was in full flow now. The rain was blinding my view, the wind pushed at us like it was trying to blow us back to the clinic. Thunder rumbled in the black sky as I left the driveway and cut across the moor. I ploughed through icy streams and stumbled over rocks. I could hear my panting breath and the moaning wind and the bleating of sheep from the darkness. I swear that if there is a hell then it feels like the moor on that day.

  “I never once looked back, terrified that they’d be behind me. I only went down to rejoin the road after I’d been running for what seemed like an eternity. I sheltered behind a massive rock, exhausted. I remember opening the buttons of my coat and seeing your face peeping out like a dormouse out of its straw. I expected you to be screaming, being jolted around like that, half suffocated, but instead you just gave me the most enormous smile, as if you were having the best fun in the world.

  “The moor road was deserted, so as soon as I saw a car I jumped out in front of it. The poor bloke got such a shock and then he didn’t know what to say when I got in and he saw you in my coat, wrapped in a nest of plastic gowns.

  “If I was going to get the police then that was the time to do it, but instead it just came out. ‘We got caught in the storm. I was trying to keep my daughter dry.’

  “‘Where are you heading to?’ he asked.

  “‘Where are you going?’

  “‘Well, I’m going home to Glasgow, but you won’t want to go all the way up there.’

  “I nodded like a mad woman. ‘Yes! Yes! That’s exactly where we want to go.’”

  Janice fell silent, trembling from having relived that day. She searched Celia’s blank face.

  At last Celia spoke, her voice strained. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

  “Because I was terrified that they wouldn’t believe me. I didn’t know who I was up against. The doctor, that man, they must have been powerful people. They could have come up with any story; made it look like I’d kidnapped you. Who are the police going to believe: a respected doctor or a messed-up care kid with a criminal record? I couldn’t risk her getting you back. She would have killed you for sure. I didn’t know what to do. I just kept running with you. I didn’t know whether you’d get ill, die like that other baby. But you didn’t and after the first few months, when no one found us, I couldn’t give you up. You felt like mine.”

  “But what about my mum and dad? Didn’t they come looking for me?”

  “Celia, no one came to visit you at that clinic. After I rescued you, there was nothing on the news about a missing child. No parents appeared, pleading for your return. I don’t know where that doctor got you from. I don’t even know how long you’d been in that clinic.”

  “She’s that professor, isn’t she? Professor Hudson,” Celia whispered. “The one on the news. The one who’s developed the Saviour Virus. The other week, when you were shaking, I thought it was the drink – but it wasn’t, was it? It was seeing her.”

  Janice nodded. “That was the first time I’d seen or heard about her since the day I took you. It made me sick; there she was, bold as brass, talking about her Saviour Virus. Her, a professor now, everyone singing her praises. I thought she’d been made to stop the experiments – I thought that man was shutting her down – but now I wonder how many more babies died to get her virus right.”

  “But she knows I’m out here somewhere, a danger to everyone. She must have been looking for me all these years.”

  “Her and God knows who else. Why do you think we kept moving? It wasn’t just when people started getting suspicious about the blood clotting story. Why do you think I’ve never had a legit job, never let anyone get close to us? I’ve been scared of my own shadow for the last thirteen years; panicking if someone seems too interested in us, if someone walks behind me for too long. Anyone could be after us and we wouldn’t have a clue until it was too late.”

  “How could you have lived like this?”

  “I’ll tell you how,” Janice said, her voice unwavering. “Because life with you has been terrifying but wonderful. Loving you, keeping you safe, has made my life worth living, made me a better person. But I’ve had no one to talk to. I had to work out for myself what was the best thing to do. I’m sorry if I’ve messed up.”

  Celia massaged her temples with her fingertips, her face pained. “All these things you’ve told me... What you did! What that professor did! The virus in me! I...I can’t take it in.” She stood up woozily.

  “Celia, come and sit down,” Janice said softly. “We’ll work out what to do.”

  “No...I’m sorry. I can’t stay. I need some time on my own. I feel like my head’s going to explode,” Celia whimpered. And she walked out of the flat in a daze.

  Frankie Byrne sat in his car, stunned by the conversation that had just poured into his ears. He wasn’t a man who was easily shocked – after all, he made his living getting his hands dirty in matters any decent person would shudder at. But this! These devastating secrets spoken out loud for the first time. Babies used as lab rats; a deadly virus contained in that girl’s blood, only ever a skin’s breadth away from spreading. And Nemo! Where did she fit into all this?

  The sound of a distant car horn brought him round. He ran his meat-cleaver hands down his face and shook out his arms as if he were ridding himself of pins and needles.

  “Stop thinking,” he reprimanded himself, “and do what you’re getting paid for.” He phoned his client.

  She answered immediately. From the background noise, he guessed that she was at some kind of dinner party.

  “I need to talk to you right now,” he said.

  “Excuse me a minute. I’ve just got to take this call. Do continue without me,” he heard her say pleasantly to the other guests.

  A minute later Frankie had her full attention as he repeated everything he’d just heard. Not once did she interrupt him. Even when he’d finished, the line remained silent.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Yes.
Now listen very carefully, Mr. Byrne,” she said. “You must get that girl right now, by whatever means necessary. But you mustn’t make a scene. No one must see and whatever you do, she’s not to be harmed. There’s a place I want you to take her to. I’ll send your phone the location. We’re not to meet in person. You drop her off, make sure she can’t escape, then leave. Keep in contact and let me know when you’ve got her. Do you understand?”

  “Listen, lady! I don’t want to know who you are,” Frankie replied, “but I’m a private detective not a kidnapper.”

  “I beg to differ, Mr. Byrne,” she said disdainfully. “I did my homework before I chose you for this job. I know that you’ll do whatever it takes to get your fee.”

  “But this is different; we’re talking about an innocent kid here.”

  “No, we’re talking about a walking time bomb!” she retorted. “Would you rather the girl was left mingling with the public every day, only an accident away from unleashing this virus? Is that what you want? Would that be the right thing to do? I’m the only person who can deal with this properly. By bringing her to me, you’ll be doing the right thing for once in your life.”

  There was a heavy pause until Frankie eventually spoke. “What are you going to do with her?”