Cold, Cold Heart

by Christine Poulson

  He found himself pulling up outside his office with no memory of driving the last few miles.

  His secretary was putting on her coat as he went in. She said, “Lyle rang. He’s booked a table for two at the Old Fire Engine House for seven. And there’s a message on your desk from a Mrs Langstaffe. She wants you to ring her.”

  Had Kieran already said something about the research? He rang her straightaway.

  She said, “I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask you while you were here. Have you spoken to Alistair?”

  “Alistair? No. Who –”

  “Alistair Johnson-Marsh. He used to work with Kieran. He’ll know about the research. He’s been ever so loyal, such a good friend, coming to see him all the time when he was in hospital. He’s Kieran’s best friend, really. Kieran being so ill, it’s been very hard on him.”

  “Have you got a number for him or an email address?”

  “Just a mobile number.” She gave it to him.

  In the background he could hear Hank Williams singing “Hey Good Lookin’”.

  He couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked about that. But as he tapped in the number he thought he knew why. The meeting with Kieran had thrown him off balance. There was something profoundly disturbing about someone who was so removed from reality. It was almost as if it would be possible to be sucked into this parallel world, as if Kieran’s craziness might be catching. He admitted to himself that he had been glad to get away.

  The mobile number wasn’t active, it seemed. He Googled the name instead. He soon found what he had been looking for. Yes, Alistair Johnson-Marsh had worked on the cancer research, but Daniel couldn’t find anything more recent that he had worked on. His scientific career seemed to have ended at the same time as Kieran’s. Of course the shelf-life of a postdoc researcher is a short one. By their mid-thirties they are getting too expensive and need to move on to a new stage in their career. But it was strange all the same that he seemed to have completely vanished from view.

  * * *

  Daniel scanned the menu. Trust Lyle to have homed in on the best restaurant in town. He used to bring Rachel here when they were courting and it was still where they came for special occasions. “Celery and stilton soup and then roast guinea fowl for me.”

  “I’ll have smoked eel,” Lyle decided, “and – what’s this? – roast leg of English Nedging lamb? What’s Nedging?”

  “It’s a village in Suffolk,” the waitress explained. “Local lamb.”

  “That’ll do for me. And I think, let’s see, a bottle of Château Patache. That OK with you, Daniel?”

  “Fine.” He wouldn’t be driving and it was easy to walk home from here.

  Lyle picked up the conversation where he’d left off when the waitress arrived. “It’s not that odd, is it, that this Johnson-Marsh character isn’t on the scene any longer? A lot of people in their early thirties get out of the scientific life and train to do something quite different.”

  “Agreed. But what is unusual for someone of his age is that he doesn’t seem to have any kind of profile on social media. No Facebook account, nothing on Twitter.”

  Lyle considered. “Yeah, that is strange.”

  “I’ll get my secretary to dig around a bit more, see what she can come up with.”

  The wine arrived. Lyle tasted it and nodded. The waitress filled their glasses.

  Daniel took a grateful swallow and sighed.

  “Tough day,” Lyle stated. Daniel had already given him an account of his visit to Kieran. “You look tired.”

  Daniel hesitated, wondering how open to be. But, after all, Lyle had already met Rachel and Chloe. As they ate their first course, he told Lyle about Chloe’s blood disease and the punishing regime that they had just been forced to resume.

  Lyle was a good listener. He quickly grasped the essentials.

  “So your best hope is a donor sibling?” he said. “So the obvious question is…”

  “Yes, why didn’t we have another baby. The chances of Rachel conceiving are pretty small. It was a fluke that she had Chloe.”

  “But you’ve tried, right? And you’ve considered IVF?”

  Daniel was silent.

  “You haven’t tried?” Lyle asked.

  “The thing is, Rachel nearly died giving birth. Postpartum haemorrhage. She lost so much blood that the hospital ran out of her blood type. It really was touch and go.”

  Lyle said, “Even a normal birth is pretty awesome. What you guys went through must have been scary stuff.”

  Dan nodded. “They don’t tell you this could happen. There was no warning. Her pregnancy was fine, everything seemed set for a normal birth. But then she was in labour for a long time, the baby was getting distressed, and they decided to do a C-section. It all still seemed pretty routine. Everyone was relaxed about it. I was holding her hand. They lifted the baby out of her and then it all happened so fast… blood everywhere. I actually saw the surgeon jam his hand into her to try and stop the bleeding. A nurse handed me the baby and then they were rushing me out of the room.”

  “Oh, man,” Lyle said.

  Dan stared into space, remembering. “Suddenly it was just me – with my daughter in my arms. I remember walking down the corridor and looking out of the window. It was beginning to get light. I’ve never felt so alone. Just me and the baby, and there was this one star left low in the sky. I tell you, Lyle, I thought I’d be bringing our baby home alone.”

  “A hell of a thing. No wonder that’s put her off having another baby. But it’s not likely to happen again. Or is it?”

  The waitress came to clear their plates away. For a few moments neither of them spoke. Lyle began to tap something into his phone.

  “Also best to know what you’re dealing with,” he said. “Let’s have a look at the statistics. Here we are. The UK: 8.5 deaths for every 100,000 pregnancies. The risk is vanishingly small, and you need to bear in mind that post-partum haemorrhage will be only one cause of those deaths.”

  “Yes, yes – but having had one, Rachel’s more likely to have another one –”

  “But now that you know, the risk can be managed, surely? Still, I can see that it must have been a traumatic experience for her, but given what’s at stake –”

  Daniel raised a hand. “No, no you don’t understand, it’s not Rachel, she wants to try again. Rachel’s got over it. I haven’t.”

  “Ah.” Lyle looked at Dan and sighed. He put his phone away. “It’s no use telling you that this isn’t a rational response, is it? Any more than it’s any good telling people who are afraid of flying that it’s the safest method of transport.”

  “Those hours when I thought that Chloe might be without a mother – and that I might lose Rachel… . No, Lyle, I can’t go through that again.”

  CHAPTER 25

  ANTARCTICA

  Katie couldn’t stop herself constantly checking the weather. Outside a full moon shone on a landscape bleached of colour. It was ten o’clock at night. Would the weather hold until the next day and the day after? The forecast was uncertain. The Twin Otters were being flown down from Canada, but it would still be days before they arrived in Rothera. The guys were taking it in shifts, working round the clock to smooth out a runway.

  Graeme would not allow her to help. She was needed indoors to look after Adam and he didn’t want her exhausted and liable to make mistakes. He had also insisted that she get a good night’s sleep. He would stay up himself. When she objected, he told her in no uncertain terms that he was perfectly capable of monitoring Adam’s condition and would wake her up if he took a turn for the worse.

  If the worst came to the worst, Craig had said that he could rig something up so that a surgeon at Addenbrooke’s could talk her through the operation. Katie had already had a preliminary chat with the surgeon and she had read everything she could find about it online. The anaesthetic was what she was most worried about. They’d covered it on the course, and she had talked it through with an anaesthetist in Cambrid
ge, but still it was a daunting prospect.

  When she’d mentioned that to Craig, he’d cleared his throat. “And – well, my mum’s a vet. I used to work at the surgery during the holidays and I used to help when she was operating, so…”

  She had trained him up so that he could monitor the patient. She’d also need someone to hand her the instruments. Ernesto had told her that he wasn’t worried by the sight of blood and had offered to help. So she had gone over the instruments with him, had let him handle them before resterilizing them, so that he was familiar with them. And of course he’d had enhanced first aid training and so had Craig, so they were the best assistants available.

  Now and then her thoughts had strayed to what Graeme had told her about Kevin and the accident that might not have been an accident. But she didn’t let herself dwell on it. She was inclined to think that after all he had probably slipped and was now misremembering. It seemed so unlikely that one of the guys on base, who were almost like family now, would have committed an assault that could so easily have had a far more serious outcome.

  Outside it was minus seventy degrees. She yearned for heat and light. Her thoughts went back to last summer when she had visited Rachel and Dan and Chloe while work was still continuing on the boat. They had picnicked on the bank. She saw herself wearing a summer dress and sandals. They had drunk spritzers and eaten baked salmon and potato salad. The warmth had soaked into her bones. She closed her eyes and saw the light on the water, fronds of weeping willow trailing on the surface, swans with a string of cygnets drifting along behind them.

  A noise at the door brought her to herself. It sounded as if someone was kicking it. A voice said, “It’s me, Justin” and all was explained.

  She opened the door. He was carrying a small tray wedged on one arm. “I come bearing gifts,” he said, “or at least hot chocolate. I made it myself and Ernesto added a splash of brandy.”

  “Here let me take that. Come on in.”

  She took the tray from him and set it down on the table. “Are you OK?” he said.

  “Not really,” she admitted. “I’m not sleeping well.” She took a sip of the hot chocolate. There was more than a splash of brandy in it.

  “That always happens around this time. People start getting out of synch.”

  “I know, that’s part of what I’m investigating. But it’s not only that. This wasn’t a situation I ever expected to find myself in.” All of a sudden the strain of putting on a good face, maintaining an outward display of confidence, was too much. “What if I have to operate on Adam? What if I can’t pull it off?”

  “You’ll be fine, I promise you. What you need is a break from all this. If we weren’t stuck in this God-forsaken place, I’d, well, I’d ask you if you fancied going out somewhere…”

  She gave him a sideways glance. “You mean – like on a date?”

  “I don’t always look like this.” He made a gesture that encompassed his shaggy hair, untrimmed beard, and unironed T-shirt.

  “I’m sure you scrub up very nicely. A date… well, now…” she mused. “I’d almost forgotten about those. Remind me, what is it that people do?”

  “Oh, they go to see a movie … or maybe have a drink in a pub or dinner in a nice restaurant.”

  “Sounds wonderful. Though to be honest, I’d settle for a walk in the park right now.”

  The light-hearted joshing cheered her, reminded her that there was a world elsewhere where people did go to the cinema or restaurants and that one day she’d be back there.

  Justin sat down next to her on the bed. “You’ll feel better if you can get a good night’s sleep.”

  “You sound just like my mum,” she said ruefully.

  He put out an arm and it seemed natural to lean against him. “It’ll be OK,” he said. He pulled her in close and she put her head on his shoulder. Only now she realized how much she had needed the comfort of physical contact. Held in his firm grip, she felt some of the tension leave her. After a while he turned and lowered himself onto the pillows. She went with him and they lay together.

  The next thing she knew she was waking up to find herself lying next to Justin with her head on his chest. He was asleep with his arm around her. Through the window she could see the glittering stars wheeling slowly across the sky. They seemed almost to move as she watched them. She felt a sense of vertigo as though she and Justin were whirling through space, clinging together. A half-thought formed: we are whirling through space on this crazy little planet. Then she fell asleep again. Later, without really waking up, she was aware of Justin disengaging himself and of the duvet being tucked in around her.

  When she did at last wake up, she was alone. She stretched luxuriously. It was the best night’s sleep she’d had for ages. It was a few moments before she realized that the room was darker and then she saw why. The moon and the stars had gone. The sky was overcast.

  She got up, showered, and dressed. On her way to see Adam she passed Justin alone in the dining room. He was eating scrambled eggs and drinking coffee. She stopped.

  “Thanks for looking after me last night,” she said.

  “No problem. I thought I’d better slip away before, well, before the others were up and about,” he said. “I didn’t want the other guys thinking… you know…”

  “That we’d spent the night together?”

  “Wouldn’t be good, would it?”

  “Them thinking that, or actually spending the night together?”

  She couldn’t resist teasing him. Though he was right. This wasn’t the time or the place to be starting a relationship.

  He laughed and was about to say something when Graeme appeared in the door. Katie saw at once that something was wrong.

  “Oh, Katie, good, you’re up. I was coming to look for you. I don’t like the look of Adam. I think he’s getting worse.”

  They headed for the surgery, Justin following behind.

  At the sight of Adam, Katie’s heart sank. He looked sweaty and uncomfortable. She took his temperature. It had gone above forty degrees. His heart rate had also shot up.

  “It’s hurting,” he said, “hurting bad.” He gripped her hand. She saw the fear in his eyes. “Am I going to be alright?”

  “Yes, you are,” she said firmly and his hand relaxed in hers.

  “There’s something I need to tell you, Katie. It was me.” She could tell from the way he spoke that he was feverish.

  “What was you, Adam?”

  “It was me,” he insisted.

  Surely he wasn’t confessing to attacking Kevin?

  “What are you talking about?” she asked gently.

  “It was just a bit of fun,” he pleaded. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “I know you didn’t.” She stroked his hand, soothing him. “What was a bit of fun?”

  “The jokes. The milk carton that mooed and the other things.”

  “Oh, nobody minded that. Don’t worry about it.”

  “And the little penguin. I’m proper sorry about the penguin.”

  So that had been him! But she didn’t have the heart to be annoyed.

  “All except the scalpel,” he went on. “I didn’t take the scalpel, really I didn’t. You do believe me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  He was reassured. He nodded and closed his eyes.

  Graeme was on the other side of the bed. Her eyes met his and she indicated that they needed to talk.

  Justin saw the movement too and said, “I’ll stay with Adam.”

  She and Graeme went out into the corridor and once they were out of earshot, Graeme said, “It’s not good, is it?”

  “Nope. We can’t risk his appendix rupturing. He needs to be operated on – and the sooner that can happen, the better his chances’ll be. We can’t wait for the Twin Otters to arrive at Rothera.”

  CHAPTER 26

  “I wish I could help,” Justin said.

  “You have helped. You make a stellar hot chocolate.”

/>   “Good to know I have my uses. Tell you what, when this is all over, why don’t we have that date? Let me spend some of that money I’ve accumulated while I’ve been on the ice. Where would you like to go? Somewhere really glamorous. The sky’s the limit.”

  She remembered what Justin had said: that in another life he might have been mixing cocktails for a living. “OK. Well if you really mean it: how about the Ritz?”

  He laughed. “Champagne cocktails for two? No problem. It’s a deal. It’ll be something to look forward to.”

  And now she couldn’t delay any longer. “It’s time,” she said. “The guys are waiting for me.”

  Justin looked around. There was no one else in the corridor. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug.

  The surgery had been converted into a makeshift operating theatre. Ernesto was waiting in the blue hospital scrubs that they were all wearing. Adam was lying on the examination trolley, now an operating table, with Craig by his side.

  Best though not to think of him now as Adam. He was her patient and all her skill and attention must be focused on doing her professional job. She thought of that old cliché: “Is there a doctor in the house?” Yes, there was, it was her, and her alone.