That Elusive Cure

by Lisa C Hinsley

  Finally the turn off for the hospital appeared and I veered off onto country roads. Just over an hour after leaving home, I parked at the hospital. Grabbing my letter I walked into the reception and got the attention of a nurse.

  “It’s for Sally Jones,” I said as he accepted my letter. “How is she doing?”

  The nurse gave me a professional blank stare. “We can only give information to her sister.”

  “Am I able to visit her yet?” I leaned up against the counter.

  “Sorry, but she’s not ready for that.”

  “But I just want to see her for a moment.”

  He crossed his arms. “I can’t allow that.”

  “Can you pass messages between us?”

  “I’m sorry but the only contact can be with relatives.”

  I took a deep breath, my temper was still on quick boil. “But I’ve known Sally since we were four. I’ve seen more of her than anyone on this planet. Surely you can tell me something?”

  “I’m sorry. Only relatives.”

  “Would you give me a letter if she wrote one back?”

  “In theory, yes.”

  In theory. What a load of tosh. Frustrated I left and started the long drive home, but not after staring for ages at the windows and wondering if Sally was behind one of them, staring back at me.

  29

  Party Planning

  First thing I did Saturday morning was dash over to the church and test the pod. The result was what I expected, but not what I hoped for. Ten days to go. What I wanted was a miraculous jump in production, and to have the machine say it was one day away from working, or even two.

  I’d made Jimmy a cup of tea earlier and said a good morning. Sometimes the two of us were so stubborn the best thing to do was move past an issue, not apportion blame. I’d seen the look in his eye when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. He felt guilty for buggering up the machine, very guilty. And I had to admit, if it wasn’t for him getting in contact with Bob, we’d never have got to this point. We’d still have a broken machine and no clue how to fix it.

  Dad had called a secret meeting with Margret down at the boat yard. We were going to be holding the meeting at a café nearby. I think the idea was to drink tea and plan the party Mum supposedly didn’t know anything about. To be honest, making small talk with a woman I knew nothing about didn’t appeal to me, especially today. Between Jimmy, Margret, Sally, the pod and so many other things that were going wrong right now, I was getting pretty stressed. There was no reason to think that the machine wouldn’t fix itself, yet it was all I could think about, central to everything I worried about.

  “Hi Dad,” I said as I rounded the side of a building and caught him standing by his boat with that woman beside him. The two of them stood too close together for my liking, with her hand resting on his shoulder and him looking intensely at her. For a moment my guts went cold, had I been blind to an actual affair? Then Margret turned to me. She seemed to be sad. Surprised at being caught in the act of trying to steal my dad more like. Maybe that’s what her guilty expression looked like.

  “Kathy, how lovely to see you again.” She gave me a hug despite me trying to avoid contact, and as she pulled back I realized she was crying.

  “What’s wrong?” I pulled a tissue from my pocket and handed it to her. Dad stood close beside her. Dad looked watery-eyed as well.

  Margret steadied herself. “I knew what was going on with you and your health, so I didn’t tell your father. I figured there was enough worry going on there.”

  I glanced at Dad, hoping for a clue. But he was staring at the ground sadly.

  “It’s my husband, you see. He was diagnosed with cancer six months ago. He died last night.” She burst into tears again.

  “She didn’t want to worry us, not when we had you to worry about,” Dad told me quietly, his voice almost lost on the sea wind. He was still staring at the ground, one arm placed awkwardly around Margret’s shoulders.

  “Jesus, how awful.” I gave Margret another hug. “Please accept my condolences.”

  “I’m sorry, so sorry,” she said as she dried her eyes. The tears had gone again and she dabbed her cheeks dry as she attempted to compose herself.

  “What on earth are you apologizing for?” I took out the travel pack of tissues from my pocket, thought about giving her another one, then handed her the pack. “Can I take you home? Or is there somewhere else you’d like to be?”

  Margret gazed out towards the tidal islands. “Mark loved walking to Hilbre Island. If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk out there.”

  The tides were in our favor and Dad and I walked Margret out past Little Eye and Middle Island to the biggest of the three islands. Margret walked to the far end and sat on a grassy mound, watching the colony of seals as they chattered and readied themselves to go out to sea for the day. Dad and I sat close, both of us unsure about how close to sit and what to say.

  The sun moved up to its apex as more walkers appeared. The tides would turn soon and trap us on the island. If Margret didn’t make a start I’d have to interrupt her thoughts, but before I had to she stood and without a word turned to leave.

  Death did funny things to people. I’d told Cass I’d come by hers after party planning. As we walked back along the beach I felt like I was surrounded by death and dying, if not of other people, then of myself.

  We took Margret back home and made a move to leave only because she insisted. A dog I didn’t know she owned walked stiffly out of a back room and sat next to her before starting to lick her hand.

  “Mark’s dog,” she said and patted him on the head. “He’s not far off joining his master.”

  “Do you want me to fix you anything?”

  Dad stood by the door fiddling with the rim of his hat. He looked so uncomfortable, I’d have sent him away to wait outside but I was certain he’d refuse.

  “I could make you a cup of tea? Are you hungry?” I moved to sit next to Margret on the sofa.

  “Buster has cancer as well. Seems that dreadful disease is everywhere I look.”

  A shape distended the dog’s belly. I saw it now I was sitting down. Did the machine cure animals as well? What would happen if I put Buster in the pod? Surely it couldn’t make things any worse for him? All the dog had to look forward to was waiting until Margret had the courage to put him down. Seemed my list of possible patients was growing ever longer by the day.

  “If you need help with Buster, you know, as you make arrangements for Mark, I’d be happy to babysit him for you.”

  Margret put a hand on my knee. “You’re such a lovely girl.” She smiled at me, her expression bittersweet. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay.”

  I put my number on a pad by the phone and told her to call me, no matter the time, if she needed anything. We embraced, Dad giving her another of those shoulder hugs he always did when he felt uncomfortable.

  “I had no idea she even had a husband,” he said once we were back in my car.

  “Some people don’t like to make a fuss, do they? They just want to get on with life and try to feel as normal as possible.” I thought of me and my battle with that horrible disease. I’d gone underground, quit work, barely left the house, stopped talking to all but a few of my friends. Everyone coped in the best way for them.

  30

  Newland Phones

  “Fuck.”

  Jimmy put the phone down as I walked into the house. I’d been with Cass all morning, helping out around her flat as she recovered. “What’s wrong?”

  “Newland.”

  One word, but enough to scare me into dropping my handbag on the hall floor.

  “What about him?” I asked quietly.

  “He’s coming tomorrow, leaving early in the morning.” He punched the wall. “Fuck.”

  I grabbed my bag and took the church key from it. “It’s too early, the pod isn’t ready yet.” I waved the key at him, as if it made more of a point. “You should have delayed him someho
w.”

  “You think I didn’t try? This is a man used to getting his own way. There was nothing I said that put him off. Nothing at all.”

  “Shit, shit, shit.” I sat on the stairs and fiddled with the key. “What are we going to do?”

  Jimmy was rubbing his knuckles. “Lie. Tell him someone before us did it. Or we could tell the truth. Those are the choices as I see it.”

  Which was worse, the lie or the truth? I wasn’t sure. “I’m going to the church. Maybe it charged up faster.”

  “You’ve gone just about every day. Is it charging faster?”

  “No, but I’m going to do it anyway. You coming or staying?”

  Jimmy checked his phone. “I’ve got to be back by two o’clock for a meeting. Come on, let’s go.”

  He drove, weaving in and out of traffic recklessly. Guess it wasn’t just me whose nerves were getting the better of them. Jimmy screeched to a halt outside the church and seconds later we were inside.

  “Open it then,” I said nodding towards the back of the pod.

  “No way. I’m never touching that thing again.”

  Maybe the man did learn lessons. I opened and closed the hatch and the machine went through its diagnostics. Seven days left until the recharge was complete. Right on schedule. I heard a noise and looked over to see Jimmy grimacing and holding his right hand gingerly.

  “What have you done?” I went to him and checked his hand. The knuckles were already turning shades of blue and purple.

  “Punched it, didn’t I.” I glanced at the pew.

  “Silly man.” I leaned over and gently kissed his hand.

  “Where do you think it came from?” He indicated at the pod.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea. Space? Aliens? The future?”

  “Why do you always assume it’s from the future?”

  That made me turn away from the pod and look curiously at Jimmy. “What do you mean?”

  He walked up to it, tentatively reaching out to touch the silver hull. “Do you really think time travel will ever be possible?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Think about it. If it was possible wouldn’t we have people flying back and forth from the future to the present? Well they don’t, I can assure you.”

  “How would you have any idea whether people time travel? They could be fixing things, doing things like leaving this machine here.”

  “And risk changing the future? They could cause a paradox and never exist and we’d be caught in a time loop, repeating forever.”

  I snorted at what sounded like science fiction.

  “I’m being serious. Think about the earthquake in Japan. That destroyed a nuclear power plant, didn’t it? Now the Pacific Ocean is being poisoned by the radioactivity pouring from the mess that was left. Don’t you think if time travel was possible someone would have come back to fix that?”

  This was making my head hurt. I put my hand up to stop him. “Okay, let’s assume time travel is out. Why not aliens?”

  “The pod speaks in English.”

  “Could be a babel fish effect,” I shot back at him. “If it’s alien and advanced enough to fix us, surely it would be advanced enough to be able to speak to different species.” I thought of Buster. If I put him inside would it bark at him?

  “Fair enough, but then it wouldn’t have MicroHealth written inside the lid.” He crossed his arms as if to drive home his point, flinching when his injured right hand touched his left arm.

  I shrugged. “Okay. But if you’ve eliminated aliens and the future, what’s left?”

  Jimmy circled the pod, a cryptic expression on his face.

  “Everyone hates a know-it-all, Jimmy,” I said. “And even worse is a know-it-all who doesn’t spill.”

  “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” He stopped and made a point of smirking at me.

  “So what remains?” I was losing patience.

  “That the machine is from the present. That someone, somewhere on this planet invented this machine some time ago and this beauty is the result.”

  Could Jimmy be right? Was someone out there making these things for a select few and keeping the rest of the world’s population in the dark? “Bloody hell,” I said and sat heavily on a pew.

  “Mind-blowing thought, isn’t it?”

  “Do you think it’s been stolen from somewhere?” My fingers twisted up together as I tried to work out what this would mean. “What if the owner isn’t Rich and they want it back? Maybe that’s the reason for the secrecy and why only one person can use it at a time? Wouldn’t want the numbers of cured people to be noticeable, right?”

  Jimmy held his hands up. “I’m just doing what I do. I’m an analyst. I analyzed the possibilities. Besides, Newland will be here tomorrow and he’s planning on telling us where the machine came from, right?”

  “I guess. He did say that in the letter.” The pod seemed too fantastical not to be from the future.

  “Then assuming he forgives us for breaking-”

  “And don’t forget fixing,” I interrupted.

  “And fixing his wonderful machine, then we will soon know the truth.”

  My phone vibrated inside my handbag, breaking the moment. I dug inside for it.

  “Damn it, it’s Janie again.”

  The phone displayed her message. Haven’t heard back from you. Hope everything is okay and life is treating you alright. If you have a minute I’d love to hear how the machine has changed things for you.

  I could feel the hurt emanating from her words. She didn’t deserve to be ignored. “Maybe I should tell her what happened? Admit the truth to her.”

  “When’s the machine going to be fixed?”

  “Next Tuesday,” I said as I stared at her message.

  “Tell her you’ll meet her next Wednesday. All being well, you’ll be fixed by then and you won’t have to lie to her.”

  Got a busy week. Want to meet at the café in Thurstaton you took me to next Wednesday? I’d love to see you again.

  The message came back quickly. Would love to. I’ll be there at 1. We can have lunch.

  I put the phone back in my handbag and stared at the pod. It had better be fixed on time.

  31

  A Plane Crash

  All Wednesday morning I waited at home, listening for the phone. Newland had told Jimmy he was leaving early. How long did it take to fly down from Scotland? I suppose it depended on where in Scotland he was. I reckoned from Glasgow or Edinburgh to Liverpool Airport couldn’t be more than an hour. From further north it wouldn’t add that much time. Hell, I could drive there in a day.

  Jimmy said Newland told him to expect a call around lunchtime. The clock told me midday had come and gone by half an hour. What was lunchtime for Newland?

  I checked the house again and saw a piece of fluff on the carpet. The curtains needed straightening in their pullbacks, even though I must have done that at least twice before. The hall cupboard needed tidying. I was down on my knees sorting through shoes when I heard Jimmy calling from upstairs.

  “Kath, you’ve got to come and see this.” There was urgency to his tone that I didn’t like.

  Just in case it was while I was upstairs that Newland decided not to phone but show up on the door instead, I shoved the shoes back in and closed the door.

  I joined Jimmy in his study. He’d been taking a break from work and one of his regular news sites was up on the screen. There was a picture of a smiling white-haired man. Underneath a red banner said Breaking News.

  “What is it?” I pulled up the spare chair and sat beside him.

  “Read the headline.”

  CEO believed among the dead as three bodies are pulled from plane crash in Liverpool.

  I clicked on the picture of the elderly man, muttering, “Oh shit,” as I did so.

  Three people were killed when a private jet overshot the runway at Liverpool John Lennon Airport earlier today. An airport spokesman said two crew an
d one passenger were on board the Gulfstream 450 when it skidded off the runway in heavy rain as the pilot attempted to land at 10:14am this morning.

  Richard Newland, reclusive billionaire and founder of the MicroHealth medical technology company has been confirmed as among the dead.

  “There are no known survivors,” the spokesman said.

  A representative from the North West Ambulance Service confirmed that the five attending ambulance crews had been stood down. No one was taken to hospital following the crash.

  Fire crews based at the airport reached the blazing jet within two minutes of the crash, airport officials said.

  JLA is expected to remain closed for some time, with incoming flights being diverted to Manchester. Passengers expecting to fly from Liverpool this afternoon are urged to contact their airline.

  Early eye-witness accounts describe black smoke billowing from the burnt out fuselage.

  I sat back, my hands dropping into my lap. “Oh shit.”

  “Guess we’ll never know the secrets of the pod now,” Jimmy said as he scanned for more news articles on the crash.

  I hit him on the arm. “A man is dead, in fact three people are dead, and that’s all you can think about?”

  “What? We didn’t know the man. A month ago neither of us would have even noticed the news of this crash.”

  I felt a weight of responsibility forming on my shoulders. With the owner of the pod dead, someone had to keep an eye on the machine and the church. I decided that person would have to be me. I’d have to find out what was going to happen to the ownership of the building. If needs be, we’d have to move the pod before the church was put up for sale or handed to some unknowing relative. Newland wasn’t young, hopefully he’d made provisions for the church in his will.