Cold, Cold Heart

by Christine Poulson

  Abruptly the wind dropped. For a few seconds there was absolute silence, then the wind roared as loudly as ever, but perhaps that meant that the blizzard was abating. She went to the window that looked out in the direction of the caboose. It was too soon to expect them back, but still her eyes strained against the swirling drift. She went on gazing into the night, mesmerized by the constant movement. It seemed to her though that the drift was thinner, that she could see a little farther.

  Sara would be in the caboose, she had to be. They would get her back to the warmth and safety of the base and everything would be alright. In her mind’s eye she followed the progress of Graeme and Alex to the caboose. The path to it was marked by a line of empty forty-five-gallon drums as was the perimeter of the base, so there should be no chance of them wandering away into the night. But still, it was dangerous. Visibility was almost non-existent and the temperature was so low. It was easy to get confused.

  She decided that she would heat up some soup. The men would need it when they got back. She opened two tins of Heinz Tomato – the comfort food of her childhood – and put it on a low heat. Her stomach rumbled. It wasn’t that long since she had eaten an enormous sundown meal, but she was famished. She began opening cupboards to find bowls and spoons. As she set things out on the table she realized that something had changed – she wasn’t sure what. She stood still and listened. The wind had stopped roaring. She went to the window. Yes, the blizzard was dying down. In the distance she could see the light of the main platform. And now she could see two little lights bobbing towards her: head torches. Only two. Her heart skipped a beat. They hadn’t found Sara.

  Katie rushed to open the door and they staggered in.

  Graeme pulled up his visor. He had beads of ice on his eyelashes. She looked at him without speaking, not daring to ask. He shook his head. “She’s not there.”

  Alex said, “But we think someone’s been there recently.”

  Graeme said, “What could have happened – she went out there to be on her own for a bit and didn’t realize that the weather was getting worse. She left it too late and got caught on the way back.”

  Alex said, “It would be all too easy to wander off base.”

  Katie had a sudden wild hope. “Perhaps she’s managed to get back to the platform while we’ve been away.”

  The two men said nothing, but Graeme shook his head and Katie remembered that of course Craig would have radioed them with the news.

  Graeme said, “Now that the wind’s dropped, we can organize proper search parties, including one to go out to the telescope. We’d better get back to the platform.”

  Katie looked more closely at his face properly, noticing now patches of white: frost nip, the precursor of frostbite. She looked at Alex. His eyes were red-rimmed. They were both on the verge of exhaustion.

  She thought, I’m the doctor on base now. I’ve got to look after these guys.

  She said, “I don’t think that’s necessary, Graeme, you can mobilize the others on the radio. It’s important that you both get warmed up before you go out again. There’s hot soup waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  CHAPTER 20

  ELY

  Lyle came in with a sheaf of newspapers and spread them across Daniel’s desk. Daniel took in the headlines:

  Tragic accident

  Polar Doc missing feared dead

  Tragedy at Pole

  The same photo of a woman in her thirties smiled out from all of them. It looked like the kind of formal picture that they have on university websites.

  Lyle flung himself down in a chair. “What’s going on, Daniel? Now both Flora and her researcher are missing. This can’t just be a coincidence.”

  “Can’t it?” Daniel had already read the online accounts and had had time to think about that. “Of course it can. What else can it be? Sara McKee was just one of the researchers who’s worked with Flora over the years and it was a while ago at that. She doesn’t have anything to do with the current research – but even if she did, the cases are quite different. Sara has to be dead.”

  “They haven’t found a body. And if she had survival gear with her…”

  “Wishful thinking, Lyle. Why would she leave the base? There’s nowhere to go and if there was, there’s no way to get there. It’s hundreds of miles to the nearest human settlement. No. This time the headlines have got it right. A tragic accident.” He tapped the copy of the Guardian that lay uppermost on his desk. “It’s like it says here. The Antarctic is the most hostile environment on earth. She got lost and confused, wandered off base, and maybe fell down a crevasse or simply froze to death. The authorities must be pretty sure she’s not going to be found or at least not found alive or they wouldn’t have made it public.”

  Lyle thought about it. He heaved a sigh, “OK, yeah, she’s dead. Has to be… I guess they’ll find her body when the sun comes up.”

  “Whereas we still have no idea what happened to Flora.”

  “I spoke to Michael this morning. The police say that she hasn’t used her credit cards or taken money out of any of her accounts since the day she arrived at the cottage. And they still haven’t found her car.”

  “It’s not looking good,” Daniel admitted. “And the longer she’s gone, the worse it looks. But still, we don’t know. Anything could have happened. She could be wandering around somewhere in a fugue state. Or she could have run off with someone who’s paying the bills. For all we know, Flora’s sipping rum punch on a beach in the Caribbean.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Well… not really.”

  “Neither do I. I think she’s dead. One of these days they’re going to find a body – and I hope they do. Because I can’t imagine anything worse for Michael and for Flora’s family than never knowing what’s happened to her.”

  * * *

  In Brancaster on the north Norfolk coast, a man was getting up before it was light. Marcus had stayed so many times at the same B & B that he was almost one of the family and he was allowed to get his own breakfast. He made bacon and eggs and washed up after himself. He got the packed lunch his landlady had left for him in the fridge and stowed it in his khaki canvas bag along with his binoculars, his camera, and his battered copy of Collins Bird Guide.

  The dawn-streaked mudflats, the cry of wild birds, the sheer romance of the north Norfolk coast: these were the days that he lived for. Only a few years now and he’d be able to retire from his civil service job in Birmingham. Then he planned to sell up and move here permanently. For diversity of habitat it was one of the best year-round birding areas that he knew. Cley, Blakeney Point, and Titchwell were excellent for spotting rare birds.

  It had been a stellar holiday. So far he had spotted Slavonian grebe, water pipits, shore larks, tundra bean goose, short-eared owls, and green-winged teal as well as lots of the commoner birds. The previous day on the salt marsh he had heard the distinctive booming cry of the Eurasian bittern. The bird was notoriously shy and their plumage allowed them to hide, camouflaged, among the reeds. He hadn’t actually managed to see it, so he was going back today. If he did manage to spot one, his holiday would be complete.

  There had been a frost and it was a clear, chilly morning in late March, perfect for birding. He was pleased to see that his was the first car in the car park. He opened the boot and sat on the edge while he pulled on his waders.

  He began to make his way across the marshes, moving inland along a path from the beach. This was a magical place between land and sky. The civilized world seemed to drop away. The marshes belonged to the birds and he was an intruder or, no perhaps not that, more like a guest, full of respect for the creatures that lived here.

  A light breeze rustled the reeds. He caught a glimpse of pale plumage and dark streaks. His heart leaped. This could be it. It was splashing, moving further away. He took a step towards the edge, trying for a better view. His foot slipped and the next moment he was sliding down into the water. Luckily he managed to stay uprig
ht and though the water was above his knees the waders protected him. But the noise had frightened the bittern – if that was what it was – and it knew he was there now. There was no more splashing. It was lying low, trying not to be noticed. He put his binoculars to his eyes, hoping to spot it among the reeds. What was that? Something in the water, out of sight from the path, but from here, the tip of a black plastic bag was visible. The end had come open and he could see something moving gently in the current. Fronds of waterweed? It had to be, because it wasn’t, it couldn’t be – but he knew that it was. What he was seeing was human hair.

  CHAPTER 21

  ANTARCTICA

  Katie unwrapped the dressing on Justin’s hand and examined the burn. “It’s doing fine – not infected, that’s the main thing. Another week or two and you should be able to use it, though you’ll have to be careful for a while.”

  Justin sighed. “I hate being out of action when there’s so much to do. Couldn’t I just –”

  “Do as you’re told, Justin. If you’re in too much of a hurry, you’ll open the wound and you’ll be out of action even longer. Let me dress it again.”

  But she could well understand Justin fretting. It was six days since Sara had disappeared. Every day that the weather permitted a team went out to look for her. Though no one had said so, they all understood that they were looking for a body now. At the same time, they had to keep the work of the base going and that wasn’t easy when they were a person down and Justin could only use his left hand. At the end of each day Katie was so tired that she fell into bed and dropped instantly into a pit of sleep.

  “What are you going to do when all this is over, Katie?” he asked her.

  “You mean when we get out of here? Not sure. I’m wondering about doing GP training.”

  “You won’t be coming back next year?”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  She didn’t need to say why. Their eyes met in silent understanding.

  Justin said, “Anyway. You’ll make a great GP. There’s something about you that inspires confidence. You’ve got a gentle touch…”

  “That’s not what you said last time I changed your dressing!” Was he flirting with her? No, she could see he was serious.

  “No, really, gentle but firm.”

  “Makes me sound like a brand of loo paper!” She tied off the ends of the bandage. “That’s you done. So how about you? What are your plans?”

  He sang a couple of bars in imitation of Graeme: “‘When this lousy war is over, no more soldiering for me…’ I’ll be going back to my job in Cambridge. I’ve done three years on the ice and that’s when I promised myself I’d stop. It’s not good to be here too long. It’s too easy.”

  “Too easy!”

  “It’s very rare for something like this to happen – what happened with Sara, I mean.”

  “Yes, but what did happen? Honestly she’s the last person… I just can’t understand it. It just seems so unlike her to have gone out in the first place. I keep going over and over that last day wondering if there was something I should have spotted. But she was just as normal.” Katie hesitated. “Though…”

  “You’ve thought of something?” Justin said.

  “Just something she said that day when we were outside at sundown. ‘The bright day is done and we are for the dark.’ It’s from Antony and Cleopatra. That wasn’t really like her and I wonder now if she was depressed and I just didn’t pick up on it. I knew she was upset about her colleague disappearing, but I didn’t think she was that upset. It wasn’t as if Flora was a close friend.”

  Justin said, “Accidents… errors of judgment. They happen everywhere, but out here you can’t take your eye off the ball for a moment. One slip… It nearly happened to me, the last time I wintered over. I went out to the telescope. It was pitch dark and I somehow lost the flag-line and got turned round. I thought I was still heading for the Dark Sector, but I found myself back at the station. Man, that was scary. I might have missed my way completely and just wandered around there in the dark until I was exhausted.”

  Katie nodded. She remembered the whiteout on the way back from the caboose, the utter sense of disorientation. That had to be what had happened, that or something like it.

  Justin went on.

  “I meant what I said though. In some ways it is too easy; everything’s here for you. You don’t have to decide what to wear or what to eat or where to go of an evening. There is nowhere to go. Even your friends are provided: a ready-made social life. It’s a special experience, and it’s a kind of specialness that you can get too used to. It’s as if you’ve stepped off the real world for a while. If you stay here too long you might find you can’t get back on. Yes, three years is ample…”

  “I’m guessing there’s no one waiting for you back home?”

  “Only Maudie.”

  “Maudie?”

  “My dog. Standard poodle. My mum’s looking after her. What about you, Katie?”

  “Nope. Just family and friends.”

  There was a silence. Then they both started to speak at the same time, and both broke off to let the other speak. Uncertain who should speak first, neither did. They burst out laughing.

  Katie broke the impasse. “Nearly time for smoko. Shall we go along to the dining room?”

  “Sure.”

  Today there were hot sausages, crispy bacon, porridge, and home-made croissants. Smoko was a sociable occasion. Every day Rhys put together a short quiz or a crossword, and there was fierce competition to see who could finish it first. Craig in his role as Comms officer monitored incoming news bulletins so that he could put together a daily news-sheet. It always contained football results when Adam’s team, Sheffield Wednesday, were playing.

  As Katie sat down at the dining table, she reached for today’s news-sheet. Her eye was caught by an item halfway down.

  “A woman’s body has been found in Norfolk,” she read, “and is thought to be that of missing scientist, Flora Mitchell.”

  * * *

  “Yes, it was Flora,” Dan said. “It was a bloke out birdwatching who found her.”

  Katie had managed to put a call through to Rachel. Dan was at home, as she had hoped, and answered the phone.

  “But what do they think happened?”

  “It was definitely murder, I’m afraid. She’d been stabbed. They think from the state of the body that she died shortly after she arrived at their holiday cottage. It’s out in the wilds of Norfolk. Then the killer probably used her car to transport the body to the coast.”

  Katie said, “There’s something I think I should tell you. Sara was going to ring you just before she, well, before she went missing. She’d remembered that a man came to their lab – this was just after she and Flora had published their work on apoptosis – ranting and raving about them having stolen his research. They had to get security to throw him out.”

  “Did she have a name for this guy?”

  The line began to break up and she could hardly hear him over the hiss and crackle of interference.

  “Kieran, she thought. She couldn’t remember his surname.”

  “What was that? Kevin?”

  “Kieran!” she shouted.

  “Oh, Kieran? Yes?”

  “Yes!”

  Then the noise on the line died down and his voice was as clear as if he was standing next to her.

  “Were the police called?”

  “I think so. Yeah, must have been, because he’d been in a secure unit and they took him back there. Turned out he was a scientist, and he had been working on something similar, but he was mentally ill – psychotic breakdown, paranoid delusions – and he’d managed to walk out of the hospital where he was sectioned. Of course they hadn’t really stolen his research. But Sara wondered – maybe if he believed that they had, he might have come after Flora and done her some harm.”

  “Most schizophrenics are more of a danger to themselves than to anyone else,” Daniel pointed out. “Worth f
ollowing up, though. I’ll tell the police and I know Lyle will be interested, too. I’ll ring him this evening. Thanks, Katie.”

  “Perhaps I should have told you this before…”

  “Don’t worry about that. You’ve got enough on your plate. It must be pretty grim where you are? No news about Sara, I guess.”

  “No, nothing.”

  “And what about you? Are you OK?”

  She’d thought she was, but the sympathy in his voice got through her defences. Tears welled up.

  He must have realized that, because he said, “I’ll get Rachel now and I know Chloe will be desperate to say hello.”

  Chloe came on first. They chatted about school for a few minutes, and Katie promised to update the blog. Oh, the blessed normality of it all. Chloe was bright and cheery and confiding. Katie wondered if the problem at school had subsided.

  She heard Rachel in the background. “That’s enough; now, chickadee, run along off to bed and I’ll come to tuck you in a bit later.”

  As soon as Chloe was out of the room, Rachel said, “How are you, really, Katie? I’ve been worrying about you.”

  “Mostly I don’t have time to think about it. There’s so much to do that I’ve had to put grieving on hold for now. The worst thing is not being able to get away from it all. That’s why it’s so great to talk to you. Tell me what you’ve been doing, tell me something ordinary.”

  “Well, Lyle came for a meal. First time I’ve met him. What a charmer! He showed up with a huge bunch of flowers and he’d brought a book for Chloe that was exactly right. He treated her as if she were as important as anyone else in the room and told her about the horses on his ranch. He didn’t talk shop over the meal. He asked me about my work and asked intelligent questions. And he helped to clear the table.”

  Katie couldn’t help smiling. “Oh yes, that’s Lyle all over. He didn’t get to where he is without plenty of charm. But tell me, how are things going with Chloe?”