“Me, too.”
“You’ll come home with us, Katie?”
Katie hesitated, but then, “No,” she decided. “I think the three of you should be alone together. I’ve still got a week to run on the lease of my flat and most of my stuff’s still there. And Minnie’s also offered to come and stay with me, if I don’t want to be alone. Spoilt for choice, really. But, oh Rachel, what are you going to do about the Matilda Jane?”
“The damage isn’t as bad as it might have been, Dan says. At least she’s still afloat. It’ll take time, but I’ll fix her. And nothing really matters as long as Chloe is alright.”
“I wonder what’ll happen to Honor’s lab. No sooner do I arrive than the place collapses around me. To lose one lab may be deemed a misfortune. To lose two…” Katie gave a shaky laugh. “I feel like Typhoid Mary.”
“The rot set in long before you arrived, Katie.”
“But if I hadn’t started to dig around…”
“Don’t think like that,” Rachel said firmly. “It’s not your fault. No one could have imagined that Honor would do what she did.”
“There was a lot at stake. Her whole career, her reputation, and Will’s career as well. Perhaps that was the worst thing for her…”
“You think she did it for him?”
“Maybe…” Katie shook her head, lost for words.
They sat in silence for a while. Then Rachel said, “There’s something else, isn’t there, Katie?”
Katie nodded. “Last night. I went to see Ian. He admitted that he’d been sleeping in his office. That was why he was in the lab that night. He swore, though, that he hadn’t switched on the gas taps, and I believe him. But if he didn’t, who did? What if it was Honor?”
“She blew up her own lab? But why?”
“Ian had discovered that a mouse was missing. He must have mentioned that to Honor, without realizing the significance. If he went around telling people… someone else might have realized, or he might have got to the bottom of it himself. But the thing is, Rachel, Honor knew that Ian was sleeping in his office. She let that slip when we were talking in the canteen. And if she knew, why hadn’t she put a stop to it? Maybe because it meant that he would be the first into the lab that morning.”
“Do you think Will suspected?”
“If he did, he redeemed himself, didn’t he? Realizing that
Honor was going to do something drastic last night, when he told her that the notebook was missing, then trying to get to the boat first – he risked his own life – ”
Katie thought of the photos of Will surfing and skiing. He’d been a risk-taker, always one for bold, decisive action, and that was part of what made him so attractive. It had led him to make the wrong call over the dead mouse and the clinical trial, but it had also led him to jump into the water to rescue someone from a burning boat. Had anyone told Martha yet? And at that thought she couldn’t hold back the tears. A large drop spilled over and fell onto the bed. She rubbed her face with the back of her hand.
Rachel reached for a handful of tissues from the box by the bed, and handed them to Katie.
“I expect we’ll find out more at the inquest,” Katie said. “He must still have had a fair bit of alcohol washing around in his system.”
“All the same,” Rachel said, “it was a good thing, a brave thing. That’s what we need to remember.”
Back in the ward, Katie found Minnie sitting by her bed, reading a copy of Nature.
“Hey, Katie, there’s something here that would suit you down to the ground: a job heading up a research project into haematological cancers in Oxford.”
For a moment Katie wondered if it wouldn’t be a relief to just leave it all behind, the hundreds of pinprick frustrations of her life as a scientist, the uncertain prospects, the failed grant applications, the long days in the lab, the weekends and evenings disrupted by checks on cultures for experiments that failed anyway…
Then she thought about Chloe. She thought about the woman in the supermarket with the caliper. She thought of the vaccines for polio and measles and mumps and TB and diphtheria. She thought of all those who hadn’t let themselves despair when their experiments failed, who just went on plugging away regardless. She thought of the antibody waiting for her in the lab. Would it work this time? Maybe. Maybe not. She remembered Samuel Beckett’s advice to fail again, fail better.
“Oh, what the hell. Give it here,” she said, reaching for the journal. “When’s the closing date?”
Epilogue
Daniel rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. Nine o’clock. Rachel was still asleep beside him. He had brought her and Chloe home the day before.
He got up to look at Chloe. She was breathing peacefully, her face a healthy colour, apparently no worse for her experience, though who knew what the longer term effect of those traumatic events would be. He couldn’t bear to think how it all might have ended.
Chloe’s duvet didn’t need rearranging, but he did it anyway, tucking it up round her chin. He watched her sleeping face a little longer.
He went downstairs, and put on the kettle for tea.
Honor had admitted to setting fire to the boat, but she’d claimed that she hadn’t known Chloe and Rachel were on board. She had been desperate to destroy the notebook – and if Katie got in the way, so much the worse for her. The notebook had survived, but so badly damaged by smoke and water that it was virtually illegible. However, Katie was willing to swear an affidavit about the contents. And the lab book itself could be examined by handwriting experts to determine whether it had been written over a period of months or if it was a fake that had been written up in a matter of hours.
The future of Calliope Biotech did not look good. The company could be sued if it could be proved that Will and Honor had known the research was flawed and had not called a halt to the clinical trial. No doubt the work would be carried on elsewhere, but what a waste Will’s death was. And as for Honor: with the loss of Will and of everything she had worked for in her long and distinguished career, her life was in ruins. Her mental state was deteriorating and Daniel wondered if she would be fit to stand trial for setting fire to the boat.
As he was pouring water into the teapot, he heard the clatter of the letter box.
He went to pick up the post and saw an envelope with a typed address. He wondered if this was what he had been waiting for. There was no logo, but given the nature of the company’s work, he didn’t expect that there would be. He went back into the kitchen and slit the envelope with a knife. He didn’t take the letter out, just flexed the envelope so that he could see the letterhead. Yes, it was from the DNA testing company. He put the envelope down on the kitchen table and turned to make the tea.
A sound at the kitchen door made him look round.
Rachel was there, yawning and pulling her dressing gown around her.
Her eyes fell on the envelope. He saw her putting two and two together.
“Is that – ”
“Yes.”
He came over and picked it up.
“Have you read it?” she asked.
He shook his head, and went into the sitting room. Rachel followed him. He went over to the wood-burning stove and opened the door. He was about to thrust the letter inside, when Rachel said, “Wait.”
She put a hand on his arm and looked into his face. “Are you sure, Dan? Really sure?”
He held her gaze. “I’m sure.”
He wedged the letter in, angling it so that it touched the few glowing embers from the previous night’s fire. For a few moments nothing happened, then a tiny orange flame nibbled the corner. The edge of the envelope grew black. Rachel slipped her arm round his waist and he pulled her close.
They watched the fire flare up and the paper shrivel.
Soon it was nothing but ashes.
Acknowledgments
It is true: if you want something done, ask a busy person. This novel required a lot of research and I couldn’t have written it witho
ut the support and generosity of a number of people. For any mistakes that remain I am, of course, solely responsible.
So thank you to:
My old university friend, Gary Moss, who again and again shared his knowledge of patent law with endless patience, and kindly read a draft of the novel.
Dr Paula Bolton-Maggs, haematologist and sister-in-law, who helped me to choose a blood disease, and combed through the last draft for me.
Dr John Olsen, who allowed me to shadow him in the lab and explained various scientific procedures to me – as many times as it took – as well as reading and commenting on a draft of the novel.
Dr Angharad Watson, who advised me on the details of the obesity therapy, and what might go wrong in a clinical trial. She and her husband kindly read a draft of the novel.
Dr Sandrine Soube, who gave me a wonderfully vivid picture of the ups and downs of the life of the scientific researcher, and introduced me to others who could also help.
Dr Jemma Lace-Costigan, who shared with me the frustrations and rewards of scientific research, as well as discussing some aspects of the plot.
Dr Alison Graham, who allowed me to shadow her in the lab, and made valuable suggestions.
Professor Rob Wynn, who spared time from his demanding schedule to talk to me about bone marrow transplants.
Dr Helen Crimlist and Dr Beverley Howson, who gave me advice on some of the medical aspects of the novel.
Dr Rachel Jones, who over lunch in Leeds told me about life as a young patent lawyer, and followed that with suggestions by email.
Alistair Breward, who took time to tell me about the world of the venture capitalist.
And then there are my non-scientific friends and readers:
I cannot imagine writing anything without the support and feedback of my dear friend, Sue Hepworth.
I want to thank everyone at Lion Fiction, but especially Tony Collins, Sheila Jacobs and Jessica Tinker.
Thanks also to Jo Burn, Becky Dewitt, David Poulson, John and Chris O’Nions, Lisanne Radice, Amanda Rainger, Pauline Wainwright and Jonathan Waller, who all gave me valuable support and assistance, and last but not least, my husband, Peter Blundell Jones.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Deep Water Page 23