Captive Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  **

  Shirley Radford took a tray of breakfast into her step-daughter who was awake but still in bed. She was holding her head and looked pale and drawn. Each morning when Shirley went into her room she felt her eyes welling up with tears. How much longer would she be doing this and would Natasha soon be unable to eat any solid food?

  ‘Morning, darling?’

  ‘Shirley, have you got my painkillers?’ said Natasha agitatedly.

  ‘They’re here, love. Let me try to help you sit up a bit.’

  ‘It’s OK, I can manage, just give me the pills,’ replied Natasha, and with great effort managed to sit up slightly, quickly reaching for the glass of water and swallowing the tablets in quick succession with a look of relief on her face. She fell back on the bed and sighed.

  ‘So, what can I get you for breakfast?’

  ‘I don’t want anything to eat, just some fruit juice and perhaps some plain yoghurt.’

  ‘Really, couldn’t you try a bit of cereal? Porridge, what about that? It’s easy to swallow.’

  ‘Yuck, no thanks, just juice and yoghurt please.’

  ‘OK, I’ll bring it up in a while. You might feel like eating a bit more later on.’

  Natasha closed her eyes and waited for the painkillers to start to work. Shirley left the room quietly. She would acquiesce to her step-daughter’s wishes but they must ask the doctors to prescribe some drinks which provided all the nutrients patients needed when they were too ill to eat a proper diet. Otherwise, she would have no strength to fight the cancer. They simply could not give up now. Ron was convinced there was a solution around the corner, they just had to wait a little longer.

  Natasha was young and previously in good health. The scan three months ago had shown the tumour’s growth had slowed and that was a good sign. It was still too big to remove surgically but at least it wasn’t getting rapidly worse in the short-term. Then Natasha had a few bad days where her speech appeared to be affected. She was slurring some words and seemed at times unable to express herself. Ron contacted her consultant and they performed another scan. The consultant told Natasha together with her parents that the tumour was just the same but some fluid had formed around it and this was causing the problems. She was prescribed steroids and after a few days showed improvement. Ron stayed behind for a chat with the consultant, ostensibly to pay the fees whilst Natasha and Shirley went to get some refreshments. Dr Fitzwilliam broke the news gently to Ron. The tumour was growing and spreading. There was no chance of an operation to remove it, she could have less than three months to live. There were no treatments suitable to treat a tumour of that size and no clinical trial would take a patient with a tumour so developed. She would rapidly worsen and become too weak for any treatment as any side-effects could be devastating and it wasn’t ethical. They should prepare for the worst. Ron thanked the consultant for his time and said he would think about what had been said.

  That night, Ron had relayed this conversation to Shirley. He told her he had found a way to shrink the tumour and enable her to have surgery. They had to try. What had they got to lose? From what he’d read there was a chance this could work. He was going to put his plan into action and he had faith. There was an outside chance and this was what they had to cling to. There was hope albeit slim. If he had confidence then so should she. They would tell Natasha that there was a hospital in London, a private clinic looking for patients for a clinical trial and very soon she would be having an experimental treatment. Due to the state of her health, the clinic had agreed to treat her in the comfort of her own home. She would simply have to have a drip fitted to her arm. It sounded simple but deep down Shirley knew that in life things were never that straightforward. Her emotions were in turmoil. She was excited and scared at the same time. Each morning she asked Ron when it was going to happen. Very soon was all she was ever told. Shirley just wished she could wind the clock forward so that it could start soon. The next few weeks and months stretching ahead would be tortuous.

  Chapter 16

  Nick was waiting in reception checking his phone when he was aware of a shadow falling across his sight. He looked up and was shocked to be confronted by a woman who looked like she was on the front of a glamour magazine. He felt embarrassed that his gaze had obviously settled on her cleavage and he forced himself to make eye contact with the peroxide blonde twenty-something year old secretary who introduced herself as Erin.

  ‘I see you have your temporary security pass,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, yes, they said I could collect another one next week. They took my photo this morning,’ said Nick, pleased that they could talk about something which would take his mind off Erin’s voluptuous figure.

  ‘Well, the chemistry department’s this way,’ and they headed out of reception past the library and up some steps into the next building. ‘Have you been here before?’

  ‘Yes, I did an M.Sc., I finished a few months ago. But that was in a different lab, of course,’ replied Nick.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ said Erin as they entered the chemistry department. We can take the stairs or the lift?’

  ‘Oh, stairs, will be fine,’ replied Nick. He did not want to be trapped in a confined space with this girl. He felt embarrassed just walking alongside her.

  Erin continued to point out a few things along the way. Toilets, coffee area, journals room, Head of Faculty’s office and then they arrived at his work area.

  ‘I’ll go and find Pat Dunford,’ she said, ‘won’t be a minute.’

  Nick was left to look around. The office area looked quite respectable and reasonably tidy. He could see an empty desk with a laptop locked to a docking station. The laboratory opposite was obviously the one he would be working in and Erin re-emerged accompanied presumably by Pat and another guy. The necessary introductions were made.

  ‘Hi, good to meet you, Nick,’ said Pat Dunford. ‘This is Dan Lythgoe,’ and they shook hands. ‘I’ll introduce you to Hannah and Seth later, they’re busy in the lab at the moment.’

  ‘Always good to hear,’ said Nick slightly nervously. There were a few awkward moments but Nick felt that on first appearance his two colleagues seemed regular guys as they said in the States.

  ‘This will be your desk here,’ said Dan pointing at the workstation Nick had already assumed would be his, ‘and I’ll show you around the lab later.’

  ‘Great stuff,’ replied Nick enthusiastically.

  ‘Why don’t we grab a coffee and we can go and chat through the paperwork and bring you up to speed with the project and so on?’ offered Pat.

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘Oh, and I think Matt Pearson will be joining us later this morning as well so he can chat you through some of the business aspects.’

  A figure approached along the corridor.

  ‘Hi, you must be Nick?’ and he offered his hand. ‘I’m Phil Sweetman, currently standing in for Prof Plumpton.’

  ‘Oh, pleased to meet you,’ replied Nick, hoping that he would be able to keep all these names in his head.

  ‘I hope you enjoy your stay with us. I’ve heard great things about you from your M.Sc. so we hope you can help us academics with the benefit of your experience!’

  Nick wondered if he noted a trace of sarcasm in Phil’s tone. Perhaps he was just being over-sensitive. He was well aware that some established academics didn’t really rate chemists in industry and thought they only did easy chemistry. Well, that might be their opinion but he knew that some academics were leading a charmed life and some of them might have to up their game as university funding was being cut all the time. He didn’t rise to the bait but smiled affably.

  ‘Hope I can help in any way possible,’ answered Nick, fixing Phil with a steely gaze.

  ‘Right, well, don’t let me stop you, catch you later,’ said Phil breezily, leaving the three remaining men to go and find a welcome cup of coffee.

  **

  In his office in Canary Wharf in London, Jake Marsfield was tak
ing a break from his workload and browsing the financial bulletin boards where companies posted news about upcoming product launches or made pitches for investment in their companies. He was always on the lookout for potential investment opportunities for his wealthy clients and himself. Recent events had made him a very wealthy individual in his own right. Much more wealthy than his employers believed. His six-figure salary would naturally enable him to build up a cushion of savings and his bank accounts and investments demonstrated this. However, there was a tranche of money unbeknown to his colleagues in the city apart from one close friend, namely Theo Henchard. For a long time this money had lived offshore in a secret account but in preparation for reinvestment or more accurately laundering, this money had returned to the UK and had been used to set up a financial advisory company. They had then billed the company fictitiously for services and taken payments. Thus they had a large sum on deposit not earning very much interest. Some had been used to buy shares but Jake felt that they could be more ambitious and afford to take greater risk in order to generate more impressive returns. Fledgling companies could provide such opportunities. Perhaps even a substantial equity stake in a start-up company could be a possibility.

  He scanned his laptop screen quickly then stopped and scrolled back up towards the middle of the page. It took him a few moments to find what had originally caught his attention. It was the name of the town Persford and a spin-off company PersCure which was being set up. The advertisement talked about a potential treatment for brain cancer and mentioned glioblastoma which is notoriously difficult to treat. It had been in the news recently as a well-known ex cabinet minister had been found to be suffering from a brain tumour and was campaigning for better treatment. He read through the spiel and smiled. Spinning his pen around in his fingers he gazed through his office window. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. What could be more respectable than an investment in medical research? He picked up his mobile and made a call.

  **

  Scott Briggs still hadn’t received any further messages from Lee Percival. He was becoming anxious as to whether he’d been dropped from the latest job which he hoped would give him an opening into a more lucrative future. There hadn’t been any specific time frame given by Lee, just soon. However, he’d started to get prepared. As instructed he’d invested in some dark clothing from a cheap sportswear shop and a hunting knife from an outdoor pursuits and fishing tackle shop. Switch-blade knives or flick knives as he’d previously known them were now illegal and were becoming more difficult to obtain. He had maid his purchases using cash, just to be on the safe side. The matter of acquiring a van was giving him some sleepless nights. Not even the services of the willing Erin could help him achieve a peaceful night’s sleep. Consequently, he was starting to feel edgy and slightly bad-tempered which wasn’t helped by the consumption of several cans of caffeine-rich energy drink. By the afternoon he was positively buzzing, jumping at the slightest loud noise and swearing profusely at other motorists whom he deemed to be in his way or driving excessively cautiously.

  He’d convinced Lee he could easily cope with stealing a van but in truth, it had been quite a while since he’d done so and since then vehicles had much more sophisticated security installed. After meeting with an old friend he realised he had to target an old vehicle where he could override the ignition by hot-wiring and gain access using a simple flexible piece of metal, known as a slim jim, inserted down the window frame. Deciding that he could afford to splash out fifty pounds on some training, he and Dev, a previous partner in crime, had gone on a practice run on the Lenfield estate towards the outskirts of Persford. He was so tense that he kept dropping the equipment whilst trying to insert it down the window of the first van and they’d had to take evasive action. Somehow he managed to take control of his nerves and the second attempt was more successful. He had to stop himself cheering when they climbed into the van and he began to hot-wire it. His friend had told him that at times he might be able to force a screwdriver into the ignition and that would fire the engine. He showed him an online video which described the steps to unlock the steering mechanism and subsequently insert the screwdriver into the ignition and use it to act as a key. This time, however, Scott managed to select the correct wires to engage the engine and they sped away, whooping and swearing. Scott was slapping the steering wheel in celebration.

  They abandoned the van half a mile away from the street where they had stolen it and jogged back to Scott’s own car. Dev collected his money and Scott dropped him at his home. Once back inside he opened a half bottle of whisky and took a generous slug. Perhaps tonight he would sleep better knowing that this task was within his capabilities.

  Chapter 17

  Nick, Pat and Dan were coming towards the end of their meeting when Matt Pearson knocked on the door and stepped inside the room. They all stood to shake hands and Nick and Matt exchanged pleasantries. The two ex-colleagues looked genuinely pleased to see each other and Pat and Dan remained silent for a few minutes to allow them to catch up with each other.

  Nick had been given a collection of papers summarising the progress to date, the background of the project, lists of intermediates held by the project and lists of the chemicals which Hannah had ordered recently. There was also a summary of actions assigned to the team and the immediate plans to try to solve the poor yielding steps. Key areas for input were highlighted with a luminous marker and Nick assumed these were the points he would be expected to focus on.

  ‘Well, I hope these two reprobates have been looking after you, Nick?’ joked Matt.

  ‘Yes, they don’t seem such a bad lot,’ quipped Nick.

  ‘Right, well, if you two want to go back to the lab and get on with things, I can take Nick through some of the business details of what we are hoping to achieve and then I’ll bring him along to you guys later. How does that sound?’

  ‘Great, see you later Nick,’ said Pat and Dan, almost in unison.

  They waited until they were alone and then smiled at each other.

  ‘It’s really good to see you again, Nick,’ said Matt. ‘I picked up the confidentiality agreement from Erin, so when you’ve signed it you can drop it off back with her.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Nick, sounding rather reluctant to make acquaintance with Erin again.

  ‘She’s certainly a..,’ and Matt paused, ‘I think I should be careful here, how shall I say, well, she’s rather striking in appearance shall we say,’ and they both laughed not needing to add anything to the description. It was clear they were both thinking along the same lines.

  ‘Right,’ said Matt, ‘I think we should get our minds back to science, difficult though that might be with Erin’s image burned into our minds!’

  ‘Well, I’ve got quite a bit of weekend reading to get through,’ said Nick. ‘But it all looks very promising. I’ve just had a quick scan of the synthetic route they’re using and I’ve had an initial thought but I want to check it out properly before I make any suggestions.’

  ‘Sure, sure,’ agreed Matt.

  ‘Did you see the suggestions which Brett and I made?’

  Nick shuffled through the sheets of paper and found the correct one. ‘Yes, that’s what I would suggest but I think I can add something to that, but again, I just want to think about it. I seem to remember I did something like that a few years ago. I’ll give it some thought.’

  ‘Well, that’s excellent. I’m sure you can teach the team here a few things or two.’

  ‘What do you make of Pat and Dan?’ asked Nick.

  ‘They seem very capable. Obviously, things have been allowed to slide a bit with Professor Plumpton’s illness. Phil Sweetmans’s been directing things but obviously he’s got his own responsibilities as well. Did they tell you about the prof?’

  ‘Yes, it’s really tragic. Ironic really in view of the project being to treat cancer, although not his particular type of course.’

  They both looked subdued at this point and w
ere silent for a few moments.

  ‘Pat seems to be a very able chemist and he’s really been driving things recently. Dan is quite a solid chap from what I’ve seen although at times he seems quite nervous and jumpy,’ added Matt.

  Nick raised his eyebrows at this remark. ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, he just seems a bit hyper, he could hardly sit still in one meeting, fidgeting all the time, rubbing his nose, touching his hair, that sort of thing,’ and Matt shrugged. ‘Perhaps he was just having a bad day?’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Nick, thinking about his colleague.

  ‘So, here’s the confidentiality agreement, you just need to sign here. It’s dated today although you won’t officially be paid until Monday, hope that’s OK?’

  ‘Yes, sure, no problem, I don’t mind reading the stuff over the weekend. They said I can use the library as well, so I’ll probably take up their offer. Polly often does some work at weekends now as she’s got a heavy workload at the moment. She’s compiling a quarterly report and it’s proving a bit time-consuming.’

  ‘Excellent, well hopefully you can meet Brett when we have our next meeting here. I should say, by the way, he was fully supportive of you getting this contract.’

  ‘Well, thanks,’ said Nick looking slightly embarrassed at being recommended.

  ‘Well, I think that just about wraps things up now. Why don’t we wander back and you can meet Hannah and Seth. They can show you around the lab.’