‘Still a good speech, though.’
Yes, Malcolm knew what he was talking about, Ron agreed.
‘Did
he
do VSO in Africa as well?’
Ron nodded. ‘A bit after me. Between jobs.’ Another pause. ‘You’re never quite the same afterwards.’ He looked at her, then up at the sky. ‘I do believe it’s trying to snow…’
He was right, a few snowflakes were drifting like thistledown…
‘In which case, I’d better be on my way,’ she said.
They went back into the house, where they agreed to think about the shop a bit more, then meet again.
‘Drive carefully now,’ he said, and watched as she drove away.
By the time she got to the motorway, it was snowing more heavily, the flakes flicking past her windscreen…
She drove slowly, thinking about
The
Black
Arrow
– would he have been so stupid as to leave it in full view if he was involved?
He might, if he’d assumed no one would get this far…
Or one of the others might have seen it… Alan, Malcolm –
any
of them…
Why did he choose to look the way he did, play the fool when he was with a crowd? Was he like it when he was teaching?
Quite possibly, some teachers
were
a bit eccentric, she could remember one or two of her own…
And yet he was obviously no fool – the opposite, even. And eloquent.
Eccentric? Schizoid?
But he
was
a teacher, with a very strong commitment to Africa, as the profiler had suggested, and he was familiar with
The
Black
Arrow
…
Was he also naïve, complacent, pleased with himself?
She rather thought he might be.
He wasn’t the messenger, though – the disguise wouldn’t have hidden those sideburns…
By the time she got back to the flat, the snow had started to settle.
Not long after Rebecca had gone, there was a tap on the door and Tim came in. I sat him down. I wanted to talk to him anyway, about the Bath trip, but I let him go first.
‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ he said, not meeting my eyes… ‘Last night, Roland called the three of us – me, Anne and Helen, to an impromptu meeting. He said he was very worried, because of your family problems.’ Now, he did look up. ‘He said he doubted your ability to lead the team effectively in the circumstances and asked us what we thought we should do about it.’
And that wasn’t all. When Anne had asked him what family problems, he’d apparently told them that my divorce had just got very nasty, with a maintenance battle over my daughter… not to mention an ongoing quarrel with my father-in-law.
As Tim told me this, I felt my heart pound at my head and the blood flush through my face… I felt so full of bile I thought I’d be sick…
‘What was the reaction?’ I managed after a moment.
‘We agreed to think about it. When I got home, I phoned the other two and told them I thought it’d been exaggerated. They said they felt the same and we agreed not to do anything until I’d spoken to you.’
‘And what is Roland expecting you to do?’
‘He said he’d come back to us this evening and if we’d felt as worried as him, we’d have to go to higher authority and tell them we had no confidence in you.’ Another brief pause, then, ‘I’m very sorry to have to be the one telling you this.’
I nodded slowly. ‘You were right to tell me, so thanks. Did he say what higher authority?’
Tim shook his head.
‘OK, leave it with me.’
He got to his feet. ‘Will you be able to ride it out?’
‘Oh, yes. Depend on it, Tim.’
He went out, pulling the door gently to behind him.
I sat and candesced.
I thought about going to find him now and hitting him as hard as I could… and the thought of him sprawling with nurses and patients looking on gave me a moment’s cheap pleasure…
No. Find him and tell him we’d manage without him…
Except that we couldn’t, not if there was an outbreak. What I’d told Rebecca was true, there was no ready replacement for him. Besides which, I didn’t have the authority to fire him summarily, only Fenella could do that.
Tell him that if I heard one more peep from him I’d…?
I’d what? No, it had gone beyond that. God knows I didn’t want to, but I had no choice but to tell Fenella.
I phoned her straightaway.
After a short silence, she said, ‘This couldn’t come at a worse time, could it? I won’t forgive Roland for this, but for the moment, the cohesion and effectiveness of the team must come first. Bearing that that in mind, and leaving aside your own feelings, what do
you
think, Herry? Does he have a case? For the good of the team, do you think you should resign?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘What he told the others was a gross exaggeration. I’m the best person to lead the team.’
‘That’s what I think. If I dismiss him, is there a replacement?’
‘Not like for like, his deputy is new and simply doesn’t have his experience. He’d be better in an outbreak.’
‘All right.’ Pause. ‘I think the least bad option is for me to talk to Roland now and tell him that either he agrees to accept your authority –
completely
– or I will dismiss him forthwith. I’ll phone you back when I’ve spoken to him.’
I sat at my desk and slowly put the phone down.
Despite having had no choice but to tell her, I felt acutely self-conscious, like a schoolboy guilty of that most heinous of crimes, snitching to teacher. But as teacher had said, our feelings were an irrelevance compared to the threat we were facing.
We
? Correction – the threat some innocent, anonymous bystanders were facing, and without even knowing it…
Mary came in with some reports and I realised I’d been sitting there in a trance for nearly half an hour…
Fenella phoned after lunch, not that I’d had any. She said that Roland had sounded genuinely shocked and claimed that it was
his
words that had been exaggerated. ‘Is that a possibility, Herry?’
‘If so, only marginally.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ She’d given him her ultimatum and he’d agreed to everything she’d demanded. I should expect a call from him.
‘I think I’ll call him,’ I said, ‘Now.’
I did so. When he answered, I told him curtly that there was a meeting that evening in my office at six.
There was a pause… I was about to ask him if he was still there when he said,
‘I was intending to call you, Herry, to apologise. I know how it must seem to you, but I
have
been genuinely worried about… the pressures on you, how it was affecting you…’
‘Then why didn’t you come to me about it?’
‘To be perfectly honest –’
Yeah
? ‘– because I thought you wouldn’t listen if it came from me…’
Might
be
an
atom
of
truth
there
… ‘So I asked the others what they thought and how we could support you…’
‘That’s not how I heard it. A vote of no confidence to take to a higher authority? Sounded like a takeover bid to me.’
‘Then I’m truly sorry. I give you my word it wasn’t meant that way. I… think I may have been… misconstrued…’
Oh
,
come
on
…
‘That’s as maybe. I’ll see you here at six, then.’
‘Herry… I’m sorry, but I really can’t, not tonight –’
‘I’ve had enough Roland. Be here at six or you’re out.’
‘My wife’s on call and we’ll never get a baby sitter at this notice –’
‘Oh, for God’s sake – ask your neighbour, your in-laws, there must be someone…’
‘Both my in-laws and parents live too far away. I know my neighbour won’t cooperate. If you can’t put it off till tomorrow morning – at seven, if you like, then I will have to drop out.’
He meant it. Did I really want to force him out like this? Keep the team together, Fenella had said…
‘All right. Eight tomorrow morning – provided, that is, that the others can make it. If I don’t call you back, assume it’s on.’
I put the phone down before he could answer.
The others were fine about it.
I went through the rest of the day in autopilot and at five, drove home.
It had been trying to snow all afternoon, and was now succeeding, and settling, in earnest. I couldn’t face going out again, so I thawed some fish and had it with a cheese sauce, chips and peas. Although the central heating made my face feel hot, I still felt cold inside, so I had a bath. Afterwards, aided by Classic FM and a glass of wine, I crawled a couple of rungs back up the evolutionary ladder.
The phone rang. For some reason, I was sure it was Roland, but it wasn’t.
‘Dr Smith? This is Sister Wright on ward eight. Please don’t panic, but your wife’s been involved in an accident. She’s –’
‘
What
–?’
‘Your wife’s been involved in a traffic accident. She’s conscious and she’s asking for you. Can you –?’
‘Was the baby with her?’
‘Your daughter’s fine and your wife is…’ she hesitated. ‘She’s stable. She’s asking for you – it would help her if you could come in.’
Had I had too much wine? No, only a glass – ‘Yes, of course… have you told her father?’
‘It’s you she’s asking for, doctor. Can you come?’
‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’
‘You probably already know this, but it’s easier to park round the back of the ward at this time.’
‘Yes, it’s where I usually park. Thanks…’
I slowly put the phone back, then paused a few seconds to pull my brain together… How the
hell
had she managed…? Perhaps it hadn’t been her fault… I struggled into coat and shoes.
The snow was much heavier. It drove at me, spiralling through the headlights and I found myself leaning forward, trying to peer through it… Other cars floated silently by… were they going slowly, or I too fast?
Why had Sarah asked for
me
…?
I reached the dual carriageway and went faster. I could understand her not wanting her father, but why not her sister? Was it because of the baby?
Grace
– must learn to call her that… had it –
she
– changed our relationship somehow?
Roundabout, lights at green, I took it too fast and felt the back shimmy away – corrected – a driver behind me hooted…
Fuck
off
,
bastard
…
Traffic lights, red. I pulled up and took a few deep breaths. Why was I so bothered anyway? Sarah, my wife who’d cuckolded me – or was it Charles who’d done that? Well, between them, they had… whatever – the lights changed, the snow halo glowing green, I moved forward. And a child I hardly knew,
didn’t
know – what would happen to
her
if anything happened to Sarah?
Anything
happened
… stupid anodyne phrase –
died
… Pops would bust a gut to stop me having custody, that was for sure…
But the sister said she was stable… and she was asking for me…
Have to come off the team now, let Roland have it…
I turned right at the junction, right again into the hospital. Skirted the main car parks and headed for the Old Buildings.
I’d always rather liked the Old Buildings, they were a historical hangover, built by the yanks during the war…
Past the boiler plant, mortuary and into the gap. I pulled on the handbrake, snatched at the keys and opened the door… Loud bleeping - lights, turn them off.
I slammed the door, the snow whirling around me, pressed the button to lock them and strode for the entrance.
A form detached from the shadows and floated towards me through the swirling snow… barrelled into me… I crashed tinnily back into the car… he hit me on the rebound and I slumped to the ground, then he started kicking me… I got a hand to his ankle, he jerked it away, staggered… I rolled over, pushed myself up and skidded round the bonnet of the car toward the boiler plant… he ran to cut me off… I swerved, backtracked and made a dash for the entrance… and into another figure… we smacked through the rubber doors together, he nutted me… I spun away, recovered, ran…
Footsteps behind, I tried to feed more power into my legs, couldn’t, knee collapsing, must have cracked it on the ground… a hand gripped at my shoulder, pulled me round… I stumbled and slew into the slick concrete floor…
He started kicking me: ribs, hip, back… then the other one piled in…
‘Hey, what’s going on…?’
A last, careful kick at my head, then they were gone. They hadn’t spoken a word nor uttered a sound, not even a grunt… Someone was kneeling, touching my shoulder…
‘You all right, mate?’
Perhaps the most stupid question you could ask in the circumstances – but the most welcome…
He must have pulled a phone out because I heard him say, ‘Get a stretcher to the entrance of ward eight,
now
– there’s a bloke here injured…’
I went into a dream world.