Bad Medicine- A Life for a Life; Bed of Nails; Going Viral

by Puckett, Andrew

‘A bits and pieces degree, then?’ Hannah said. Marc looked at her as she went on. ‘Don’t take offence, mine wasn’t much better.’

  ‘You’re right, anyway,’ Rebecca agreed ruefully, wondering what her degree was in. ‘Which is why I ended up in NHS admin.’

  There was a chuckle and a release of the slight tension that had built up.

  Sophie asked why she hadn’t joined an overseas aid group at university. Rebecca said that she had, but it had been so badly organised that she’d dropped out.

  ‘Which group was it?’

  ‘Unicef, actually. It wasn’t they who were badly organised, it was the students who tried to set it up.’

  Marc asked if there were any more questions. There weren’t. He looked at her apologetically. ‘Would you mind giving us a few minutes…?’

  She got to her feet. ‘Of course not.’

  She pulled the door to behind her. There was nobody else about in the building so far as she could tell… She had to listen, but couldn’t risk being caught at the door…

  She tried the next room. A small kitchen… she eased open a cupboard and found a glass, two glasses. She filled one with water, put the other to the wall and put her ear to it…

  ‘…I’m just a bit bothered about taking someone off the streets, that’s all.’ Hannah.

  ‘Oh, come on –’ Craig, she thought – ‘She’s hardly that…’

  ‘But we’ve always had people we know on the committee, people who’ve been members for a while. We should ask them first.’

  ‘But we have,’ said Craig, ‘and no one’s interested.’

  ‘I’ll tell you one thing –’ Alan – ‘I’m not doing it any more, not now we’ve had a perfectly good offer.’

  Short silence, then Marc said, ‘Sophie?’

  Pause… ‘I know what Hannah means about having someone we know, but… she seems OK to me.’

  Hannah again. ‘Is her commitment that great if she let a boyfriend stop her?’

  Another Sophie snort. ‘You don’t know some men.’

  Alan, impatiently – ‘I move we put it to the vote, Chair.’

  ‘All right. Those in favour? Against? Three to one.’ Rebecca thought she could detect relief in his voice that he didn’t have to use his casting vote. ‘I’ll tell her.’

  She quickly replaced the empty glass, moved away from the wall and took a mouthful from the other as Marc appeared at the door –

  ‘Ah, there you are – would you like to come back in?’

  ‘I’ll just rinse out the glass.’ She did so and followed him.

  ‘Well,’ Marc said as she sat down, ‘we’d like to have you as our treasurer. Which means you can stay for the rest of the meeting, if you like.’

  Alan said quickly, ‘Doesn’t it have to be formally offered and accepted?’

  Marc formally offered, she formally accepted and Marc formally and ironically welcomed her.

  She looked quickly round. ‘Thanks, everyone. Are there any books, accounts, that sort of thing?’

  ‘It’s all on disk,’ Alan said. ‘I take it you’ve got a PC?’

  She nodded.

  Hannah said, ‘Is your computer secure? Only, there are membership lists, which are confidential.’

  Rebecca kept her face immobile. ‘It’s a laptop, but it is secure. I used to keep work information on it.’ Can it really be this easy…?

  ‘Well, that’s settled then,’ said Marc. ‘Let’s move on.’

  What’s the betting he gets an earful tonight, she thought, and wondered what it was Hannah had against her… female rivalry, or something else…?

  They went quickly through the minutes of the last meeting and matters arising. Craig shot her a quick smile. She responded demurely. The meeting moved on to whether they should join a demonstration organised by The Anti-Slavery League on the site in Bristol where the slaves used to be sold. They decided they should send a representative.

  Next was an announcement from Craig that he was meeting the local MP at the end of the week, hopefully to finalise his agreement to chair a forum he was organising on the theme of Starvation – the new slavery?

  Treasurer’s Report: Alan told them there was £2157 in the deposit account and £977 in the current. Then he grinned, ‘So it’s over to you, Rebecca. He went on, ‘You and I need to get together some time so I can give you the disks and explain it to you.’

  She thought he sounded a shade too keen on the prospect… but needs must.

  ‘Sure,’ she said.

  Marc said, ‘Any other business?’ There was a resigned tone to his voice, so Rebecca wasn’t surprised when Hannah said yes.

  ‘I’ve had an approach made to me by Open Door in Bath that we should join them in protesting against the new immigration laws.’

  There was a groan from Alan. ‘I thought we’d agreed to be agnostic over this,’ he said. ‘For the sake of peace.’

  ‘Some of us feel very strongly about it,’ Hannah began, but Alan cut across her –

  ‘BTA is about feeding the many in Africa, not bringing a few into this country.’

  Craig nodded his agreement.

  Sophie said, ‘What about asylum seekers, people who are sick?’

  ‘I think you’ve just given us as good a demonstration as any of how divisive it is’ said Alan.

  ‘It’s a matter of conscience,’ said Hannah. ‘I feel we should at least put it to the general meeting so that members can decide on an individual basis.’

  ‘OK, let’s put it to the vote,’ said Alan.

  Marc said quietly, ‘I’m abstaining, and that’s final.’

  The vote was two all.

  ‘Rebecca?’ said Alan.

  Hannah said quickly, ‘Rebecca knows nothing about this – it’s not fair she should be asked.’

  ‘I agree,’ Rebecca said, equally quickly.

  ‘Deuce,’ said Alan.

  Hannah looked at Marc, and Rebecca realised she was trying to force his hand … Then Sophie said suddenly,

  ‘I’m changing my vote. I abstain. Sorry Hannah, but it’s just too divisive. We can’t afford that.’

  Marc said, ‘The motion falls. We say nothing to the meeting.’

  He was still going to be for it when they got home, Rebecca thought.

  Marc closed the meeting. ‘Who’s coming for a pint?’ he said.

  ‘I’m going home to relieve the babysitter,’ Hannah said… I will not be placated… ‘Can you find your own way back?’

  ‘I could give you a lift, if you like,’ Rebecca said, not too quickly, she hoped… but the risk of annoying Hannah was outweighed by potential of info from Marc…

  ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  Hannah left, while the rest went to a pub round the corner. Rebecca accepted a polite half from Marc. They sat. Alan had manoeuvred himself next to Rebecca.

  ‘We’d better arrange a date,’ he said. ‘Shall I come to you?’

  Not on your life… ‘No. Thanks, but I need to learn to find my way around. What’s your address?’ She took pen and notebook from her bag.

  He gave it to her and asked if she had any date in mind.

  ‘Why not tomorrow evening?’ she said.

  They agreed on seven.

  ‘Have you always lived in London?’ he asked.

  ‘Can’t you tell?’ she said, and the others laughed.

  ‘D’you like it down here?’ Craig asked.

  ‘From what I’ve seen, it’s… let’s say it’s a big improvement.’

  ‘Any luck on the job front?’ Marc asked.

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve signed on and they say they’ll let me know.’

  Craig said, ‘Has it got to be NHS? I work for the Council – the County one – I could ask around if you like.’

  ‘Oh, would you?’ she said gratefully, confident she’d never be around that long.

  ‘D’you have a contact number?’

  She gave him her mobile number. Craig was older than he looked, she realised – close too,
there were tell-tale lines around his mouth and eyes… thirty five, forty? Looking for a way to turn the conversation back to slavery, she said, ‘Would you still hold the slavery forum if your MP was difficult?’

  ‘Oh, I think we’d still go ahead – wouldn’t we, Marc? It just wouldn’t be such a draw.’

  ‘We’d be lucky to get a dozen,’ said Sophie.

  ‘I’m trying,’ Craig said, ‘I’m really trying.’

  ‘I know, pet,’ she said, putting her arm round him. ‘Just make sure you succeed, that’s all.’

  ‘Now I know what they mean by a hangdog look,’ said Alan, grinning at him.

  Rebecca plunged. ‘I hope you get somewhere too,’ she said. ‘I think the slavery issue’s really important. It’s the main reason I chose BTA.’

  Sophie looked at her in surprise. ‘In that case, why not the Anti-Slavery League?’

  ‘Oh, I think providing food for the starving is more important, but I also think that we should be aware of why these people are starving in the first place – and that’s slavery. Not to mention colonisation and oppression.’

  ‘You ought to get together with Ron,’ Craig said… ‘Although then again, I’m not sure I’d wish that on anyone.’

  Another chuckle.

  ‘Why?’ Rebecca asked. ‘I mean, who’s Ron?’

  Craig looked round at the others. ‘Where do I begin? If you met him, you’d understand. Quite quickly.’

  Sophie said, ‘We all care about slavery, but he’d bore for England on it.’

  ‘Especially with an attractive young female,’ Craig said.

  ‘Oh, sub-tle,’ Sophie said…

  Marc came in – ‘The trouble is, he’s one of those who can go on so much he puts people off,even though he’s right.’

  ‘I haven’t seen him much lately,’ Craig said. ‘Have you, Alan?’

  ‘No, not much,’ Alan said shortly. Rebecca went still – Alan didn’t like the subject… Why not?

  ‘When was he last at a meeting?’ Craig asked.

  Nobody knew. Rebecca blinked as she tried not to show too much interest… so Ron was obsessive about slavery and hadn’t been seen lately… and Alan, who was his friend, didn’t want to talk about him…

  The chit chat went on for a while, then Alan offered her another drink, which she politely refused. ‘Actually,’ she looked at Marc who’d finished his drink and was looking restive, ‘I wouldn’t mind going, if that’s all right…’

  ‘Sure.’ He eased his way out of his seat.

  They said Goodnight to the others and went out. It was cold and a drizzle haloed the streetlights.

  ‘February in England,’ he said.

  ‘But at least it means Spring’s round the corner,’ she said.

  They reached her Nova. She unlocked and let him in. They drove off. After a moment, he said,

  ‘Not regretting your decision to join us already, I hope?’

  ‘Not at all.’ She felt his eyes on her and smiled without looking at him.

  He said, ‘I don’t blame you for not wanting Alan to come to you – Oh, he’s perfectly harmless, but he can be a bit leery. Him and Ron both.’

  Now, she did glance at him for a second… ‘What is it with this person Ron? He’s obsessive, he’s leery, he’d bore for England…’

  He shrugged. ‘A group like ours is bound to pick up the odd oddball.’

  She laughed. ‘So he’s an odd oddball as well – I can’t wait.’

  He laughed with her. ‘After a talk-up like that, he’s bound to disappoint – go right here –’ He pointed to the turning ahead.

  A few minutes later, she pulled up at his house.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, his hand on the door handle…

  ‘Are you going to be for it?’ she asked.

  Too far…? Then he smiled quickly, unwillingly. ‘No, not really.’ He paused, took his hand away from the door. ‘Hannah’s completely in tune with BTA – except for the Open Door issue. As you probably gathered, they’re more interested in immigration than aid. They’re great believers in multiculturalism, as is Hannah…’ He stopped as though aware he’d said too much… ‘Anyway, sorry, shouldn’t go on.’ He released the door. ‘Thanks for the lift. See you on Tuesday.’

  He waited on the pavement until she’d driven off.

  Chapter 6

  She phoned Brigg in the morning, told him about the meeting and gave him the names and, where she could, addresses of who’d been there. ‘I’m hoping to get a list of all the members tonight, but you might want to look at those to go on with.’

  ‘Anything from the rest of your team?’

  ‘Not yet. I’ve been lucky – if BTA hadn’t needed a treasurer...’

  ‘Luck still has to be utilized. D’you still think it’s Exeter?’

  She took a breath. ‘I just think it’s more likely, because of the animal feed place and the eggs. The percentage game, like you said.’

  He told her to keep in touch and rang off.

  She spent the day looking round Exeter. She’d had the impression when she’d arrived that, other than for the cathedral and the few old buildings around it, the centre consisted of some rather nasty office blocks and shopping complexes and not much else. But when she struck out, there were interesting bits from all sorts of periods: Victorian warehouses, Georgian terraces (Grade Six at least) some Art Deco and even a few good-looking modern buildings. Shame about the sixties office blocks. Bombs or developers, she wondered? Both, probably.

  She had some lunch, shopped for an hour or so, then walked back to her flat past the cathedral. She caught a snatch of singing as someone opened the door to go in, and on impulse, followed them.

  A man just inside stopped her. ‘Sorry Miss, we’ve just started Evensong.’

  ‘Can I stay and listen?’

  ‘Of course you can,’ he said, and indicated the rows of chairs.

  She sat near the back. There were perhaps a couple of dozen people scattered through the nave. The voices of the choir, unaccompanied, weaved through the pillars and spaces of the vast building; she didn’t understand what they were singing, just felt completely at peace with it.

  The last time she’d been inside a church was at an aunt’s funeral. The hymns had been listlessly sung and meaningless. Here, she felt that the threads of music were somehow connecting her to the previous generation, the one before, the one before that…

  It stopped, and someone read from a bible. She couldn’t make out the words. She thought, Why do I do my job?

  She’d told herself when she’d joined the unit that she was helping to clear the dirt away, make the country cleaner. But – and she realised she’d been thinking this for a while – at what cost to herself? How much of the dirt was sticking to her?

  In her last major job, she’d infiltrated an environmental group suspected of harbouring an extremist faction. In order to keep her cover intact, she’d allowed herself to be seduced by one of the leaders. And then realised just in time that she really was being seduced, both by Sean and his twisted version of their philosophy.

  When she’d told Brigg, he’d said, ‘Most of us go through something like that.’

  ‘But you don’t know how close I was…’

  ‘What matters is that you’ve told me now.’ He looked at her and said deliberately, ‘D’you think it’ll ever happen again?’

  ‘I – no.’

  ‘Good.’

  No, she thought now, no, I won’t let it…

  Remembering that the daylight would soon be gone, she quietly left, walked to her flat, then drove to Alan’s address, so that she wouldn’t have any problem finding it in the dark. Also, to get a feel for it…

  It was a pleasant semi on the outskirts, a conventional family home. Quite a large garden too, with a large garden shed as well. Did he have a family? She moved on before anyone could notice her.

  *

  Alan did indeed have a family – when he let her in that evening at seven, she could hear pop
music coming from upstairs and the after-smell of the evening meal.

  ‘Dawn,’ Alan called, ‘come and meet our new treasurer.’

  A small, tidy, smiling woman appeared and shook her hand.

  ‘Alan was so pleased when someone volunteered to take over,’ she said.

  ‘I beginning to wonder just how awful this job is,’ Rebecca said.

  ‘Not awful, just boring,’ Alan said.

  Dawn said, ‘Why don’t you go into the dining room and I’ll bring you some tea.’ She frowned at the noise from upstairs. ‘Sorry about the row.’

  Rebecca didn’t really want tea, but it might extend her time – the prospect of that wasn’t so bad now that she’d met Dawn. She somehow made Alan more bearable.

  ‘How many children have you got?’ she asked as they went into the dining room.

  ‘Three. Two have flown the nest – well, at Uni., so we still have them back quite a lot. That one –’ he gestured at the ceiling ‘– is still at school. An afterthought,’ he added, sotto voce.

  Yes, definitely more bearable on his own patch.

  ‘It’s over here,’ he said, moving to the computer on a desk in the corner.

  She glanced round as she followed him; there was polished dining table, a thirties style tiled fireplace and a sideboard with some rather nice china in the other corner.

  He showed her the disc with the membership list; their addresses, work and home, contact numbers and whether they were up to date with their subscriptions...

  Dawn came in with the tea. Full cream milk, which Rebecca detested. She made a conscious effort not to grimace.

  ‘About a third of the subs are still due,’ Alan said when Dawn had gone. ‘Being a woman, you’ll probably have better luck than me.’

  ‘Why d’you say that?’

  He grinned. ‘Because most of the defaulters are male.’

  ‘Ah.’ He was probably right, although she’d be glad of the excuse to make contact with any of them… ‘I don’t think a third’s bad for this time of year,’ she said. ‘I take it they were due in January?’

  He nodded. ‘Oh, you’re right, it’s just that I’m sick of chasing them… there I go, putting you off again…’

  They both laughed.

  He showed her the accounts. As he’d said at the meeting, there was over £2000 in the deposit account, and nearly £1000 in the current.