The Anvil

by Ken McClure

  ‘I’m being allowed to see her next Wednesday,’ said Tansy. ‘Will you come?’

  ‘Of course,’ said MacLean.

  MacLean and Tansy spent the weekend together and separated on Monday morning. The fire at the bungalow had caused many of Tansy’s former friends to ‘rally round’ as they put it. She had told them that she was being discharged from hospital on Monday morning rather than the previous Friday so that she could steal the weekend with MacLean but, on Monday morning, she dutifully appeared on the hospital steps to be picked up by Nigel and Marjorie, friends from what seemed like a hundred years ago when she and Keith had been members of a local tennis club.

  In the event, Nigel turned up on his own. He had taken the morning off work — he was a solicitor — to mount a grand stage production of ‘The Good Samaritan’. He leapt from the car to put an arm round Tansy. ‘What can I say Darling?’

  Tansy was helped into the front of the car as if she had lost the ability to walk and Nigel kept up a constant stream of sympathy and mock anguish all the way home. Tansy dutifully said at intervals, ‘This really is most kind of you Nigel but she was on the verge of asking him to stop the car so that she could get out and run away.

  Marjorie appeared at the door of the house and swept over Tansy like an incoming tide, repeating much of what her husband had said in the car. ‘Our house is your house, you know that my dear. And poor Carrie, you must be so worried about her. Out of your mind probably and who can blame you? You mustn’t worry about the insurance though, Nigel will deal with all that won’t you Nigel?’

  Nigel agreed that he would.

  Tansy noticed that at no time in the conversation was Dan Morrison’s name mentioned. Her ‘bit of rough’ had died in the flames as far as Nigel and Marjorie were concerned, something not even worth acknowledging. A social embarrassment had been cleared up for them and now Tansy would return to the fold. She’d soon be back at dinner parties and there were lots of eligible chaps to be asked along. Tansy knew that she should be grateful to her former friends for the trouble they had gone to but at that moment she hated them.

  On Wednesday, Tansy drove out to Carrie’s hospital in Marjorie’s Mini which she insisted she borrow. MacLean took the bus and met her at the foot of the drive. Neither said very much as they walked up the long gravel path. Tansy knew that they were going to remove the dressings from Carrie’s face. MacLean surmised as much.

  The spring sun was warm on their faces and there was a smell of blossom in the air. Tansy felt twinges of panic. She started to hope that they would never reach the entrance. She even invented a reason for delaying by stopping beside a bush and saying, ‘What a gorgeous scent.’

  MacLean nodded and said, ‘spring is really here.’ He put his arm round Tansy’s shoulders knowing what she was going through.

  They did not have long to wait before being shown into a small office where a bald man wearing a white coat sat behind a desk. Half framed spectacles sat on his nose and he was finishing some writing. The nurse closed the door behind them and the doctor looked up. ‘Ah, Mrs Nielsen,’ he said. He turned to look at MacLean. ‘And?’

  ‘I’m Carrie’s uncle,’ said MacLean.

  ‘Ah yes, Mr Nielsen being deceased.’

  ‘I’m Doctor Coulson, Carol’s consultant. Please take a seat.’

  Tansy smiled deferentially. MacLean remained impassive.

  ‘Let me tell you what is going to happen. Carol has been sedated to permit painless removal of her dressings. The nurses are preparing her at the moment but I have to warn you that, from our preliminary findings, it seems certain that Carol will require a degree of remedial surgery.’

  A lump grew in MacLean’s throat.

  ‘What about her eyes Doctor?’ asked Tansy.

  ‘Her eyes are undamaged; she can see perfectly well.

  Tansy looked at MacLean and he gave her a reassuring smile. It was a time for clutching at straws.

  The nurse who had shown them in earlier came into the room and said that everything was ready.

  ‘Good,’ said Coulson. ‘First, perhaps I should warn you… ‘

  Tansy had started to get up from her chair; she sank back down again.

  ‘You may find this distressing. Skin burns can be… unpleasant.’

  Tansy had gone rigid. Her knuckles were showing white as she listened to Coulson, her eyes filled with trepidation. MacLean reached over and put his hand on hers.

  ‘I’m ready,’ said Tansy, her voice almost a croak.

  Coulson said, ‘Carol is heavily sedated. There is no need to put on a brave face for her sake.’

  Coulson led the way along a long corridor with glass on one side, which allowed them to look out at lawns in the sunshine.

  ‘First we go in here.’

  They entered a room where two nurses took their outdoor clothes and helped them into surgical gowns and masks. MacLean wished that there could have been more contact with the nurses for Tansy’s sake. She needed womanly comradeship.

  ‘Carol’s in here,’ said Coulson opening an adjoining door and leading them into a small side-ward with half-closed Venetian blinds. Carrie was a small bundle on the bed, swathed in white bandage and flanked by two nurses who were arranging an instrument tray. MacLean’s heart went out to her. She seemed so small and vulnerable. He nudged Tansy to move along a bit, pretending that he needed more room but he was really trying to ensure that she saw more of Carrie’s good right side.

  The nurses went to work with scissors. Periodically they would stop and apply saline soaked swabs to deal with any stickiness in the dressings. MacLean looked at Tansy out of the corner of his eye and saw that her eyes were like saucers above her mask. He tried to take her hand but she drew away.

  The preparatory work was done. Coulson took over and started to unwind strand after strand of gauze. He dropped them silently into a steel dish. There was now nothing left to remove save for the two dressing pads. Coulson removed the right one and MacLean felt emotion well up in him at the first sight of the familiar little face. He saw Tansy’s eyes start to moisten.

  Coulson had more trouble with the other pad. It was sticking. It took several applications of saline before it was freed and he lifted it clear. The left side of Carrie’s face was in partial shadow but MacLean could see the damage. It was horrific. The tissue from just under her left eye to well below her jawline had been utterly destroyed. As he had feared, Carrie’s mouth had been badly affected. She would probably not be able to speak.

  Tansy was transfixed with horror. Coulson started to say something but she turned on her heel and flew out the door.

  ‘Nurse!’ said Coulson.

  ‘I’ll go,’ said MacLean.

  Tansy was running blindly back along the corridor; she sent two nurses spinning. MacLean saw her burst out of the door at the end of the corridor. He followed and found her clinging to a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. She had both hands on the trunk but she was not weeping or making any sound at all. MacLean moved up slowly behind her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders

  Tansy spun round on him like a gun turret. ‘You did that!’ she hissed. ‘You did that to Carrie! It’s your fault!’

  The words tore through MacLean. He offered no defence. What Tansy said was true. She was now hysterical. She thumped her fists on MacLean’s chest while he stood there with tears running down his face while the sun filtered through the blossom above him.

  Quite suddenly, Tansy’s blind anger was spent. She collapsed in floods of tears on to MacLean’s chest, begging him to forgive her. He held her close and ran his fingers through her hair telling her there was nothing to forgive. He knew well enough that what she’d said was true and said so.

  ‘No, no, no,’ cried Tansy. ‘I asked you to stay. I practically begged you to stay.’

  The nurses had now caught up with them and were coming across the lawn. MacLean signalled with his hand that they should stay back. He wrapped his arm round Tansy’s shoulder and
led her further away from the building so that they were completely alone.

  ‘I didn’t know what I was saying,’ sobbed Tansy. ‘When I saw Carrie’s face… ‘

  ‘I know,’ soothed MacLean. ‘I know.’

  ‘Oh Sean, what are we going to do?’ asked Tansy. She looked up at MacLean with eyes filled with pain and hopelessness.

  ‘I am going to make you a promise,’ said MacLean.

  Tansy’s eyes asked the question.

  ‘I am going to give you Carrie back just the way she was. I can do it but I will need your help.’

  Tansy’s eyes grew wide and confused. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘You saw her face, her mouth… ‘

  ‘I can repair the damage with Cytogerm,’ said MacLean.

  ‘But that’s all in the past,’ said Tansy.

  ‘I’ll get some,’ said MacLean.

  The first flicker of hope appeared in Tansy’s eyes but she said, ‘Even if you could, Carrie’s face is so bad… ‘

  ‘I’ve seen worse. I can do it.’

  ‘But how will you get it?’

  ‘I’m going back to Geneva. I’m going to steal it from Lehman Steiner.’

  ‘You’re crazy!’ exclaimed Tansy. ‘They’ll kill you!’

  ‘They think I’m dead,’ said MacLean. ‘And even if they didn’t they wouldn’t think of looking for me right on their own doorstep.’

  ‘But how d’you know that it still exists?’

  ‘I don’t,’ admitted MacLean. ‘That’s one of three gambles we must take.’

  ‘Three?’

  ‘First we have to presume that Lehman Steiner will still have supplies of Cytogerm; second we have to gamble that Carrie will have no dormant cancer cells in her body at the time of surgery and thirdly, this venture may cost a lot of money.’

  ‘I’ll have the insurance settlement on the bungalow.’

  ‘We may need that.’

  Tansy sobbed. ‘Every penny, every last penny.’

  NINE

  Tansy and MacLean rejoined Coulson in his office where Tansy apologised for her outburst.

  ‘I was afraid your daughter’s appearance would be quite a shock to you,’ said Coulson, gathering the papers in front of him and opening his desk drawer. ‘But it’s amazing what we can do these days.’

  Coulson outlined the procedures he had in mind for Carrie while continuing to clear his desk. He spoke of a series of skin grafts.

  MacLean listened with a heavy heart; Tansy hung on to every word. ‘What period of time are we talking about?’ she asked.

  ‘Several years I’m afraid,’ replied Coulson.

  Tansy felt her heart sink but her expression didn’t change. She knew she had to consider what would happen if MacLean could not get hold of Cytogerm but she was asking questions like an automaton. ‘Where would you get the tissue to rebuild Carrie’s face?’ she asked.

  ‘Basically, from other parts of her body,’ said Coulson, ‘Thighs, buttocks etcetera. We’ll use this.’ He picked up what looked like a deflated balloon from his desk. ‘We insert one of these under the patient’s skin and inflate it gradually over a period of time. New skin is forced to grow over the device providing a surplus supply for grafting.’

  Tansy nodded but she was thinking about something MacLean had once said when he was telling her about the magic of Cytogerm. The thing she remembered was that, ‘grafting backsides on to faces was never that effective’.

  MacLean was remembering the same comment and wishing he’d never made it.

  Coulson looked at his watch and sat upright in his chair as a signal that the meeting was at an end. ‘Are there any more questions?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Tansy. She turned to MacLean.

  ‘Presumably the first operation is still some way off?’ said MacLean.

  Coulson nodded. ‘She has to be stabilised first. We’ll see how things go and then take it from there.’

  ‘Good. You won’t do anything without telling Mrs Nielsen first, will you?’

  Coulson looked at MacLean strangely. ‘Of course not,’ he said.

  ‘Good,’ said MacLean.

  ‘What was all that about?’ asked Tansy as they walked away from the hospital.

  ‘I didn’t want him doing anything to Carrie without telling us first,’ said MacLean.

  ‘Doesn’t he need my permission before he can do anything anyway?’

  ‘Officially, yes. But sometimes relatives are seen as little more than a nuisance. It’s not unknown for surgeons to do what they want and have the paperwork filled in later.’

  ‘Don’t the relatives kick up a fuss?’ asked Tansy.

  ‘It’s the easiest thing in the world to bamboozle relatives into believing that whatever was done was for the best.’

  ‘I see,’ said Tansy.

  ‘I was just making sure he knew we were the kind to make a fuss,’ smiled MacLean.

  ‘I’m learning a lot,’ said Tansy. ‘To think I used to have such faith in doctors…’

  MacLean had given Tansy what money he possessed when he moved in with her and Carrie. Now he needed something to live on. Tansy had anticipated this and handed him an envelope. ‘When will you need real money?’ she asked.

  ‘I need time to think,’ MacLean answered. ‘I have to work out a plan.’

  ‘Will I see you?’

  ‘Come round tomorrow evening?’

  Tansy nodded and asked if he would like a lift back to town.

  MacLean declined. ‘Better not,’ he said. ‘We have to be careful.’

  Tansy put up a hand to his cheek and asked, ‘You do think there’s a real chance for Carrie don’t you?’ Her eyes held all the vulnerability of a little girl. She was willing him to say, yes.

  ‘Yes I do,’ said MacLean.

  ‘Take care,’ said Tansy.

  MacLean watched the Mini disappear and stood for a moment, feeling the sun on the back of his neck. He felt that he had just taken the first step on a journey with no clear horizons. Although he was apprehensive about the dangers to come he was perfectly clear about one thing; there would be no turning back. The sooner he applied himself to the practical problems of what lay ahead the better.

  He decided that the first hurdle to overcome was how to get back into Switzerland. He still had a passport in his own name but using that would be asking for trouble. There was no telling how widespread Lehman Steiner’s network was, but if they could find him within weeks of him starting work in a British hospital, Swiss passport control was hardly going to be a problem.

  MacLean got round to thinking about Tansy’s husband Keith. From what she’d said he had been about the same age as he himself. If Tansy still had his birth certificate then he had the makings of a plan. He would apply for a British visitor’s passport in Keith’s name. Travelling as Keith Nielsen should present no problem in the short term. The next question was, did Tansy have the certificate or had it been destroyed in the fire? On Thursday night he asked her.

  ‘All our papers were kept in a safety-deposit box at the bank,’ she said. ‘They still are. Why?’

  MacLean told her.

  Tansy said that she would get the certificate in the morning and asked if he had made any other plans.

  ‘I’m going to play it by ear,’ admitted MacLean. ‘I’ll fly to Geneva as soon as I sort out the passport. I’ll book in to a small hotel and then do some phoning around. I need inside information.’

  ‘That could be dangerous,’ said Tansy. ‘Someone might talk.’

  ‘I need to know what’s been going on at Lehman Steiner over the past few years,’ said MacLean, ‘I’ll concentrate on just one contact to start with. Eva Stahl, she was my theatre sister.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Tansy. ‘You gave her a new face didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you trust her?’

  ‘I think so. We got on well.’

  ‘And she owes you a favour?’ said Tansy.

  ‘
That sort of thing,’ smiled MacLean.

  ‘She might not be with the company any more,’ said Tansy.

  ‘True,’ conceded MacLean. ‘But she might be able to tell me someone useful who is.’

  ‘Do you have her address?’

  ‘It’s four years old but it’s a start.’

  There was an awkwardness between MacLean and Tansy, which made both of them uncomfortable. It was due in part to the aftermath of Tansy’s outburst at the hospital. She still felt guilty about what she’d said and MacLean still felt uneasy because it had been true. He had brought disaster to Tansy and Carrie as he always feared he might and now there was tremendous pressure on him to put things right. The other factor in the equation was the prospect of great danger.

  With the best will in the world, MacLean found it hard to think of anything other than what lay ahead. It was this that bestowed on him an air of remoteness which, although he regretted, he couldn’t help. Tansy, in turn, knew that it was she who had forced MacLean into this situation. Her growing love for him was now at odds with her love for Carrie and it was eating away at her.

  ‘I’d best be getting back,’ she said awkwardly, ‘Nigel and Marjorie will be wondering where I am.’

  They looked at each other for a moment then Tansy said, ‘Oh, Sean.’ She put her head against his chest and closed her eyes She felt so relieved when he put his arms round her and kissed her hair. ‘I wish there was another way,’ she said.

  ‘Everything will be fine,’ whispered MacLean. ‘I promise.’

  They arranged to meet in the morning after Tansy had been to the bank to get her husband’s birth certificate and MacLean had obtained suitable passport photographs of himself to go with the application form he’d obtained from a post office. He’d forged signatures on the back of the photographs to testify to his identity as Keith Neilson which matched the false details he’d entered on the form. He and Tansy set off for the main Post Office with Tansy coaching him all the way.

  MacLean waited anxiously in line. He was usually impatient in queues but on this occasion he was not unhappy that the man in front of him appeared to be asking a string of questions that the counter clerk seemed unable to answer. While he waited, he looked at the photographs of himself and re-examined Keith Nielsen’s birth certificate. Nielsen had been born in Aberdeen and his mother had been called Christabel. He was reflecting on how nice the name sounded when the clerk said, ‘Next.’