by Robert Innes
Blake thought back to the picture of the couple he had seen hidden in the desk drawer. “I don’t know for sure,” he said quietly. “But I’m going to guess that there’s no way Angela had a key to get into the drawer I found the red book and the photograph in.”
“Which brother was it in the photo?” Mattison asked.
“That’s the thing,” Blake replied grimly. “I have no idea. Whoever this mystery woman was, she could be the key to everything, or she could be completely irrelevant.”
“Hardly,” Gardiner scoffed as he returned to his desk. “If she’s that immaterial, then why hide photographic evidence of her existence?”
“I don’t know,” Blake said quietly as he stared at the now paused footage of the two brothers. “But we need to find Patrick. And soon.”
The officers of the meeting returned to work as Blake’s brain whirred with the contents of the footage. He felt like a solution to everything that had gone on was in reach, but there were vital components he was still missing.
His phone vibrating loudly on the desk again broke into his thoughts. As he turned the phone over to once again see Nathan’s name flashing on the screen, he glanced behind him to make sure that everyone was working then disappeared out of the room with his phone clutched to his ear.
“Nathan, I’m working. What do you want?”
“What I want is to be able to ring you without receiving attitude,” Nathan replied acidly.
Blake walked towards the exit of the station, his ecig clutched firmly in his hand. “I take it you’re not just ringing for a chat. Have you received your results?”
Nathan sighed. “Yes and no.”
“What?”
“They’ve called me in, Blake. The doctor obviously wants to speak to me face to face.”
A huge wave of dread washed over Blake as he arrived outside and to the wall he always leaned against to smoke his ecig. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am, Blake,” Nathan replied sharply. “I wish I wasn’t. Have you been for your test yet?”
Blake glanced around him, as if it were possible for passers-by to overhear the conversation and instantly know what it was about. “No. Not yet. I’ve been up to my neck in work, I haven’t had time.”
“Yeah, well you might want to make yourself some time,” Nathan replied.
There were a few moments of silence between them, neither of them apparently wanting to address the elephant in the room.
Finally, Nathan spoke again, in a voice further away from his usual bravado than Blake had ever heard him use. “I’m scared, Blake. What do they want to talk to me about?”
“You’re looking for sympathy from me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Because whatever you’ve got, I might have, and so might Harrison.” Blake could feel himself getting angrier. He took a pull on the ecig in an attempt to calm himself, but it had very little effect. “All because you couldn’t wear a helmet before you rode a bike.”
Nathan sighed. “What if I’ve got it, Blake?”
“It depends,” Blake replied simply. “If you’ve got it, and I haven’t, then I will help you in living the normal life you’re capable of living with HIV. If I’ve got it, then I will never forgive you. Ever. So, I suggest you get yourself to that appointment and then let me know the results as soon as you hear them.”
“If a normal life is possible, Blake, then why would you be so angry with me?”
Blake knew Nathan was not asking him a genuine question and that he knew the answer perfectly well. He was looking for reassurance, because he was so frightened of the change to his life that could be coming, but Blake was in no mood or position to offer him that reassurance, especially when there was every chance he would have to be looking for it for himself.
“Just let me know when you find out,” Blake said. “When are you going?”
“Tomorrow morning. But you could just as easily get yourself tested. If you went today, you could find out today.”
“I know.”
“Then why don’t you?”
Blake took a long pull on the ecig. “Because do you think you’re the only one who’s scared?”
He hung up the phone and shoved it back in his pocket, his heart hammering in his chest. He could think of no other reason why the clinic would want Nathan to come in so they could talk to him face to face, other than if they had found something in his test results.
“You tell him, Blake.”
Blake turned his head sharply and was amazed to see Sally Ann Matthews walking towards him.
“Sally?” he gasped, running to her and hugging her tightly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Doing my duty,” Sally replied as Blake finally released her. “I called ‘round the cottage, but Harrison said you were working. I thought I’d walk past on the off chance that I saw you. And lo and behold, there you are.”
Blake’s stomach flipped. “You’ve spoken to Harrison?”
“Yes, and don’t worry,” Sally told him. “I haven’t said anything. Though it doesn’t sound like you have either.”
Blake sighed and shook his head. “I was going to last night.”
“I know, and then this place got in the way,” Sally said sternly, pointing at the station. “Blake, that man is worried sick about you. He knows something’s wrong, but he thinks it’s something he’s done. I take it from the way you sounded like you wanted to kill him that it was Nathan on the phone just now?”
“Yeah. He’s been called in to speak to the doctors directly. He’s got it, Sal. I know he has.”
“Right. Enough’s enough. Where’s the nearest clinic?”
“It’s in Clackton, but I can’t go anywhere now. I’m up to my eyeballs in this case.”
“Alright then,” Sally replied, shrugging. “Then I’ll tell Harrison.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Try me,” Sally said warningly. “Unless you go straight back in there and tell your boss that you need to pop out, then I will go and tell Harrison personally. Yes, I’m poking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but I don’t care. This is for your own good. Go and make something up, say you’ve got a lead to follow or a witness to interview or something. Just go.”
Fortunately for Blake, it did not take very much convincing for Angel to let him go and interview a supposed witness, in fact Blake suspected that Angel had been watching his behaviour carefully since he had spoken to him about how distracted he had been, so perhaps it was best to give him the impression that his mind was fully on the job.
Now, he and Sally were parked outside the clinic in Clackton. Blake stared at the entrance, butterflies in his stomach.
“I probably won’t even be able to get an appointment today,” he said.
“Well, you won’t know until you get your butt in there and find out, will you?” Sally replied. She took hold of Blake’s hand and squeezed it tightly.
“I’m scared, Sal.”
“I know, sweetheart. And believe me, I could still quite happily murder Nathan and go down for it and it would be totally worth my time. But there’s just not you at risk here, there’s Harrison to think of. If you’re clear, then he never has to know about this. If you don’t want to go in there for yourself, think of him. And remember, even if it’s the worst result for Nathan, it doesn’t mean you’ve got it. Whatever the result though, I promise, we will make it okay.” She pulled him towards her and kissed him on the head. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
Blake nodded. “I think so.”
“Come on then. Let’s get this done.”
Blake stepped out the car and took a deep breath. “What do I even do? I’ve never had to do this before. I’ve had a single one night stand in my life and even then I was the one who insisted on protection.”
“Just go up to the reception desk and ask to book an appointment,” Sally told him. “It’s simple. And don’t worry – these people will have seen and heard ever
ything you could possibly say to them before.”
They walked into the clinic and strolled up the reception desk. The receptionist had his back to them, busy talking on the telephone. As they waited, Blake looked around. The clinic seemed cosy enough, but it was the posters scattered all over the walls that caught his eye. Each of them seemed to be detailing a different type of sexually transmitted disease or infection and what the warning signs should be. There were that many that Blake could understand if somebody left here terrified of ever sleeping with anybody ever again.
“I feel so weird being here,” Blake murmured.
“Blake, don’t talk stupid,” Sally replied. “This kind of thing can happen to anybody. It’s not your fault that your absolute moron of an ex-boyfriend has put you in this position.”
“I know.”
The receptionist finally finished his conversation and turned his chair around to face them. Blake’s mouth fell open.
“Blake?” Tom exclaimed, looking surprised. “What are you doing here?”
11
For a few moments, the three of them stared at each other. Then Blake finally said, “Your job is as a receptionist here?”
Tom leant back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. It used to be my job when I was at university, but I got a transfer. Can I help you?”
Blake glanced at Sally who sighed.
“Go on,” she said. “You’ve come this far.”
“I’d like to book an appointment please,” Blake said quietly.
Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. “For a check-up?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” Tom replied. His lips thinned as he turned to his computer. Blake could already see what was going through his mind.
“You’re sexually active at the moment, I take it?”
Blake shuffled on the spot uncomfortably. “Look, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“Are you sexually active at the moment?”
“Well, yes, obviously.”
Tom tapped quickly on his keyboard, looking deeply disapproving. “Are you displaying any symptoms of any sexually transmitted infections?”
“No, look, Tom, this isn’t how it seems. I haven’t been playing around behind Harrison’s back.”
Tom shrugged. “None of my business, Blake. I just need you to answer the questions. Are you here for any specific type of test?”
Again, Blake and Sally exchanged looks. Blake was worried to see that even Sally looked concerned. “Yes,” he murmured. “I’m actually here for an HIV test.”
At last, Tom stopped tapping on the keyboard and stared up at Blake. “I take it Harrison does know you’re here?”
Blake stammered.
“With the best will in the world, Tom,” Sally interjected, “that actually has nothing to do with you. And while we’re on the subject, I might also remind you about patient confidentiality. Blake has reason to believe that a past relationship, someone he hasn’t even spoken to for months, never mind so much as touched, may be infected. As a precaution, he has come straight here to get himself checked out for Harrison’s sake as well as his own.”
Blake was sure he detected an extreme dislike from Tom towards Sally, but he greatly appreciated her answering his question for him in such a direct way, even if the ‘straight here’ part had been bending the truth slightly.
“Well, actually,” he said with a slight hint of disdain, “it’s my job to remind you that if you think you might be infected with any sort of sexually transmitted infection, you need to speak to any partners you believe may be at risk.” He turned back to his computer screen. “As it happens, I’ve just put the phone down to somebody cancelling their appointment. I have a spare window for you in about twenty minutes, if that suits?”
“Yes, that’d be fine. Perfect actually,” said Blake.
Tom gave Blake a tight and clearly insincere smile and began tapping furiously on his keyboard again. “Good. If you’d like to take a seat, you’ll be called through.”
“Thank you,” Blake said, before turning back to the waiting room whilst trying to avoid any more eye contact with Tom.
“Well, that couldn’t have been more embarrassing,” he hissed at Sally as they sat down. “What if he tells Harrison I was here?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Sally replied. “You leave Tom to me. I’ve got my eye on him.”
“Why?”
“We’ve met,” Sally replied grimly. “He came to see Harrison shortly after I arrived. I wouldn’t say for sure that he’s after your boyfriend, but rest assured, I left him under no illusion that he would have me to deal with should he even think of causing any problems for the two of you.”
“Then what are you saying?” Blake asked. “That I shouldn’t trust him?”
“Not as far as you could throw the Taj Mahal,” Sally replied, picking up a magazine and flicking it open.
The minutes seemed to go by at a snail’s pace. Every so often, Blake caught Tom staring at him from over his computer. Normally, Blake would be unfazed by this, but he could feel that Tom knew that he had been keeping his situation from Harrison and it made Blake feel guiltier than ever. Despite Sally’s reassurances, when the nurse finally called Blake in, he felt like he wanted to throw up out of nerves.
“Remember,” Sally told him as Blake stood up, “whatever the result is, we will make it okay.”
Blake gave her a nervous smile and then, with a deep breath, followed the nurse down the corridor.
The test took nowhere near as long as Blake had assumed. When he was sat down in front of the nurse, she asked him a similar list of questions to Tom, but with a much less accusatory tone. She explained to him how simple the procedure was, a quick blood test, then asked Blake if he wanted a full check up while he was there. Deciding that it was best to cover all bases, Blake agreed but specified that he wanted the results to the HIV test as soon as possible, to which the nurse agreed.
When he stepped out of the surgery, Sally stood up and met him outside the waiting room.
“Well?” she said keenly. “How did it go?”
“As well as can be expected,” Blake replied. “They’ve said they’ll ring me when they get the results. Either way, I’ll know by the end of the day.”
Sally linked his arm. “I’m so proud of you. I know it was scary, but it’s honestly the best thing.”
“Thank you,” Blake said, squeezing her tightly. “I don’t think I could have done it without you.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m brilliant,” Sally said, shrugging. “What do you want to do now?”
“I really should get back to work,” Blake replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Angel is going to think I’ve been interviewing someone in another country if I’m too much longer.”
“Come on then,” Sally said. Together, they walked past the reception desk, where Blake could practically feel Tom’s eyes boring into his back, and left the clinic.
“How are you feeling?” Sally asked as they walked back towards the car.
“More nervous than ever,” Blake admitted, accepting the cigarette that Sally had offered him. “Nathan’s still got to go in tomorrow and get his own test results, remember, but I guess for now all I can do is play the waiting game and try not to drive myself mad.”
Sally nodded, clearly knowing that there was nothing more she could say for the moment. “Do you mind if we nip to the shop before we go back to Harmschapel? I’m starving.”
They went across the road to a sandwich shop. Blake waited outside and finished his cigarette. He had absolutely no appetite and he doubted he would until he got his results back. As he disposed of the cigarette butt on top of the nearest bin, he turned back towards the shop and saw Sharon Donahue, the forensic pathologist, coming out carrying a plastic bag.
“Oh, hi!” she said cheerfully. “Are you skiving?”
“Something like that,” Blake said, smiling. “I could ask you the same question.”<
br />
“Even the most brilliant of pathologists are allowed a lunch break, Blake,” she replied. “Actually, I’m glad I’ve seen you. I was just about to send you the reports for the post mortem of Angela Coopland, but you may as well take them yourself if you’ve got time to nip across with me?”
When Sally came out of the shop, holding one of the biggest sandwiches Blake had ever seen, she cheerfully agreed to return to Harmschapel on the bus, so Blake walked through Clackton to the mortuary, making small talk with Sharon until they arrived.
“How are you getting on with how the body ended up in the coffin?” Sharon asked as she typed a number into the keypad on the door to let them in.
“No idea as of yet,” admitted Blake. “We’ve found out that Patrick Coopland had a twin though, which would explain how he managed to apparently survive that car crash.”
“You mean I was examining the wrong body without realising it?” Sharon exclaimed as they walked through the stark and clinical corridors of the morgue. “I hate when that happens.”
They arrived at the mortuary and Sharon disappeared into a side room to put her sandwich in the fridge. It was the first time Blake had been in Clackton mortuary. He had had no reason to visit here before, unlike in his old position in Manchester where it seemed he had had to visit one every other week. It was not a place he had especially missed. The unique and distinctive scent of death hung in the air and he was slightly unnerved to see a body waiting to be examined in the middle of the room.
“Oh, don’t mind her,” Sharon said, waving a hand dismissively at the body. “Homeless woman. We think she caught pneumonia.”
“That’s sad,” Blake said as he thumbed through the report that Sharon had given him.
“She’s not the first and she certainly won’t be the last, sadly. Such a waste of life.”
“Yeah,” Blake murmured as he read the report. “It’s like Angela. She thought she was free of her mentally abusive husband. Turned out he was far from finished with her. As if she didn’t have enough trauma to deal with after that car crash.”