Serafina and the Virtual Man (20 page)

“Ah, you’re awake again.”

Again
. That was a good sign—continuity. “I hate to talk in clichés,” Adam said, struggling to sit up. “But—er—where am I?”

The nurse leapt to his side immediately. “Careful,” she said. “You’re going to be weak for a while—you’ve been in a coma for five months. You’re in the Royal Infirmary.”

But at least he’d managed to sit up without her help, even if it knackered him. The nurse arranged his pillows more comfortably.

“I’d love a cup of coffee,” he wheedled.

She smiled. “The trolley’s on its way.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Since around midday yesterday afternoon, so nearly twenty-four hours. The doctor will be along to see you at some point today.” She hesitated. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good. As if I’ve had flu and a load of bad dreams.”

The nurse lowered her voice. “There’s a policeman here, waiting to talk to you. I can put him off until tomorrow if you like.”

“No, that’s all right. I
want
to talk to him.”

The nurse smiled. “I’ll make sure you get your coffee,” she assured him and bustled out.

A few moments later, a red-haired man in a brown wool jacket came in carrying a cup and saucer.

“Mr. Adam? I’m DC McGowan. Um—the nurse asked me to give you this.”

“Thank God,” Adam said flippantly, reaching for it. Although it felt unaccountably heavy, he managed to ferry it down to his lap and raise the cup to his lips. He wrinkled his nose. “You know, I thought it would taste better than that.”

“Hospital coffee,” McGowan observed by way of explanation. “How are you feeling?” He turned the chair by the bed and sat beside him.

“Confused, to be honest.”

McGowan said carefully, “We found you in the cellar of a house belonging to Dale and Petra Ewan. You seemed to have been there for some time.”

Then it was real. Some, at least, of all that was real. The pain of betrayal clawed at his stomach. Yet somewhere, he knew he’d already gone through the initial shock of this, and he found he could deal with it, lay it aside in his need for more answers.

“Do you remember any of that?” McGowan asked, taking out his notebook and pen.

“I remember a load of stuff that might be dreams. And I remember waking up somewhere that looked like a cellar. Damp, cold, musty. There was a drip in my hand.”
And a girl, holding me; a sweet, beautiful girl, crying for me…

McGowan nodded. “I have to inform you that we’ve charged Mr. and Mrs. Ewan with kidnapping and false imprisonment. There will be other charges relating to fraud.”

Adam held his eyes steadily, listening to the beat of his own heart. “That was part of my dream.”

“You were found in the cellar by Serafina MacBride and her staff. Do you know these people?”

Adam’s pulse leapt. “Psychics?” he hazarded. “At least, Sera is.”

“Go on,” McGowan said. His voice was calm, but something about his unblinking eyes told Adam the policeman was as excited as he was.

“There was another girl, JK.”

McGowan’s gaze fell in apparent disappointment.

Adam tried harder. “Jilly. Jilly Kerr. She’s into computers. Blonde, beautiful.”

McGowan smiled. Encouraged, Adam named Jack and Blair too. And then McGowan asked the all-important question: “How do you know these people?”

Adam glugged down the rest of the coffee. It wasn’t very nice, but he was thirsty. “That’s the hard part,” he admitted, shoving the cup and saucer on to his bedside table. “I don’t really know. Because I’m not sure what’s real.”

Having thus cleared JK and her friends—if they were real—by leaving open the absolute possibility of his dreaming them—he told the policeman how he’d first encountered JK, and an edited version of what he remembered vividly came after.

McGowan gave little away, which kept Adam on tenterhooks, still unsure of what was dream and what reality. Then the detective said, “Can you remember the night you were attacked in the Ewans’ home?”

And he told him about that too, right up to the point he was shot and his brain shut down.

The nurse stuck her head around the door. “Two more minutes, please,” she said to McGowan. “The doctor needs to examine Mr. Adam.”

McGowan nodded and finished writing before stuffing his notebook and pen away in his pocket and standing up.

“Wait,” Adam said in frustration. “I’ve got questions too.”

“Better be quick.”

“Did Dale really hire a psychic to get rid of a poltergeist?”

McGowan nodded.

“Then—Serafina’s is real?”

McGowan nodded. “Only too bloody real,” he said with feeling. “Talk to you soon, Mr. Adam. Thanks for your help.”

Perhaps it was the adjustment, but all through the doctor’s poking and prodding and questioning, Adam felt totally exhausted and had to fight not to close his eyes. The doctor seemed to make his stately progress with an escort of several younger, white-coated acolytes who hung on his every word.

“This is a most interesting case,” the doctor pronounced. “As you can see, the muscles are far less wasted than one might expect after so long without use.”

“That’s the VR machine,” Adam said vaguely, his eyes already closed. Since this was greeted with absolute silence, he opened his eyes again to find them all staring at him. “Virtual reality. My brain was active for at least some of the time and passed certain signals to my body. So I didn’t lie perfectly still. It might not be exactly working out, but I did make definite movements.”

The acolytes stared at their high priest, who swallowed and coughed. “As I say, a most interesting case,” he repeated hastily. “Keep resting, Mr. Adam, you’re doing well.”

Resting. He felt as if he’d done enough of that for a lifetime. It was just his eyes wouldn’t stay open.

****

He came to with the low, distant buzz of conversation in his ears. Visiting time? Something rustled in his room, and he opened his eyes to see the same nurse from this morning, walking toward the door.

“I’m awake,” he volunteered, and she turned at once.

“Oh good! It’s just you have a visitor, and the doctor’s orders are only for those who won’t upset you.”

“Tell her I never upset you,” said a familiar voice with a charming Irish lilt, and Roxy walked into the room. “Oh God, it
is
you!”

She flew at him, and he held open his arms to receive her. “You were dead! I thought you were dead. We
all
thought you were dead!”

“Hey,
I
thought I was dead. I’m really not. This place is full of doctors, and they all say the same thing.” Over Roxy’s head, he nodded to the nurse, who departed, smiling.

****

Jilly felt more nervous than she ever had in her life. Sera had refused to come with her.

“I’ve got appointments this afternoon. I’ll go in the evening,” Sera had insisted with a grin. “Go first and prepare the way.”

Jilly had glanced at Jack, studiously engrossed in his reading. They were all pretending they weren’t interested in seeing the man they’d rescued, but she knew they were giving her this time alone, and that only made her more nervous than ever.

She was dressed for work, with the lighter makeup she’d begun to adopt over the last week. She refused to touch it up, but she did brush her hair till it shone before she left Serafina’s.

Did you buy flowers for a man? Eventually, she decided you definitely did if he was in hospital, since it would brighten up the dull, sterile ward. She bought grapes too and blew her pay in advance on the newest handheld gaming device that came with games of spectacularly good graphics and entertainment value. Thus armed, she caught the bus to the Infirmary and tracked down his ward.

“He’s in the room at the end,” the nurse said brightly from behind her desk. Jilly nodded her thanks and walked along the long, echoing corridor, her heart hammering. This was ridiculous. It felt like the Green Mile. She wasn’t going to her own or anyone else’s execution; she was going to visit the man who felt ridiculously like her best friend. Her virtual lover.

“Love is for life,”
he’d said to her. And now he had life.

This was real. And that scared the shit out of her.

Hushed voices, the occasional laugh from the rooms on either side brushed against her ears as she made her way to the end. The final room. There was a window just before the door. She couldn’t help looking in.

And there he was. Adam. Genesis Adam, alive and real, and holding another woman in his arms. Roxy May.

Her stomach twisted. She’d been right. They did look great together, all tumbled black hair and dramatic good looks. Worse, they were comfortable. Roxy drew back, seizing his face between her hands and kissing him hard on the lips. Adam smiled, and Jilly drew back from the window, pressing her back into the wall next to it.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the sudden flood of understanding. This was
real
. No wonder she’d been so scared. What she’d had with Adam wasn’t real at all. He’d needed her because of the situation he was in, and she—well, she was fucked up and desperate. Even if he remembered her, even if Roxy remained no more than a friend and an ex to him, Jilly was nothing.

She closed her eyes. How could she have built a fairy tale out of this? He may not have been a prince, but he was a wealthy genius, Genesis Adam. Jilly Kerr was no Cinderella. She was a computer hacker with the family from hell, and if she’d learned anything, it was how to take care of herself. She could not bring herself to walk into that room and watch her virtual fairy tale crumble. She’d leave that, at least, intact.

Heaving her suddenly heavy body off the wall, she walked swiftly back the way she’d come, pausing at the nurses’ station to ask them to pass the flowers on to Genesis Adam. “He’s busy,” she muttered, “and I can’t wait.”

“Of course,” the nurse said pleasantly. “Who’ll I say they’re from?”

“JK,” Jilly said and walked away.

Chapter Twenty

“JK?” Adam stared at the nurse holding the flowers. “JK was here?”

“Yes, she said she couldn’t wait.” The nurse set the vase down on his bedside table.

“Beautiful blonde?” Adam hazarded.

“Very,” the nurse agreed.

“You don’t have a computer in here I could use, do you?”

“Sorry, no.”

So far as he knew, he didn’t even have one of his own anymore. At least Roxy had promised to buy him a phone tomorrow.

Determinedly gathering strength, he ate a little dinner and caused a stir by insisting on taking himself to the bathroom and having a shower and a shave. Feeling better, he sat up in bed in his hospital gown—Roxy would bring better attire for him tomorrow—and waited impatiently for evening visiting.

He seemed to be listening a long time for footsteps that always stopped short of his end of the corridor. And then, when some finally kept going, there were two of them. He recognised the owners at once.

Sera and Jack strolled into the room.

“Hello,” Sera said with an engaging smile. “Remember us?”

“Vividly.” Adam held out his hand. “I owe you more thanks than I can say.”

“Nah.” Sera took his hand and squeezed it. “Just glad to see you looking better.”

Adam shook hands with Jack too and waved them to the chairs on either side of his bed. “JK not with you?” he asked casually.

“Not this time,” Sera said. “Expect she doesn’t want to crowd you.”

“She can’t crowd me from the corridor,” Adam said dryly.

Sera frowned. “What do you mean?”

He waved one hand at the vase on his bedside table. “She brought me flowers, left them with the nurses.”

“What did she do that for?” Jack demanded.

“Maybe your curtains were closed,” Sera suggested with a trace of uncertainty.

“They weren’t. I already had a visitor, and she knows Roxy.”

“Roxy?” Sera repeated. She appeared to search Adam’s face very closely. “You and Jilly were pretty close in the VR.”

Adam nodded but said only, “I owe her.”

Sera sat back, took some grapes from her bag, and offered one to Adam. He took it politely. She said, “Jilly’s a very independent spirit. If you value her, it’s up to you to show her that.”

Adam swallowed his grape and regarded her. “You speak in riddles, psychic.”

“No, I don’t, and it isn’t me you need to get around.”

****

Sera dropped Jack outside his flat and drove on to Jilly’s. As she’d expected, Jilly was home, in her slobbing clothes, watching television. Her laptop was still in its bag.

“You didn’t come back to work,” Sera observed, accepting the coffee Jilly passed to her.

“Didn’t seem worth it.”

“Thought not. Jack and I visited him tonight.”

“How is he?”

“What did you think?”

Jilly shrugged. “Better.”

“Oh, Jilly, I know you didn’t even go in!”

“So fucking what?” Jilly demanded.

“So why didn’t you? He was disappointed.”

Jilly snorted and changed the subject. “Have you seen this series? It’s quite funny.”

“Some of it. Was it because of Roxy?”

“No!” Jilly snapped. She dragged one impatient hand through her hair, leaving it tousled. “Maybe, sort of. She was there. Just made me realise I don’t fit. So we were friends in VR; he’d make a great geek friend. Real life, maybe not.”

“And maybe yes. You don’t know, Jilly.”

“No,” she admitted. “And neither do you.” She shrugged. “Everyone knows he’s alive now—it was in the news. He’ll be swamped with all his old friends and colleagues.”

Sera drank her coffee. “Want something stronger?” she suggested.

Jilly shook her head mutely. Sera’s heart contracted. Her friend was hurting and not yet ready to have the wound probed. Sera understood that; she always had.

She finished her coffee and stood up. “See you in the morning, Jilly.”

Jilly nodded. She even tried a smile, which almost broke Sera’s heart.

As she drove back to the New Town, she realised she was angry with Jilly, not for being who she was but for not grabbing her chance. Jilly was afraid of nothing and no one, and yet she couldn’t even walk into the same room as a man she might well grow to love.

Sera hit the heels of both hands off the steering wheel. “Fight for him, damn it! Roxy didn’t lift a finger to save him.
You
did that. You’re the one he asked for. Risk it, damn you!”

She couldn’t recall ever being so frustrated with Jilly. And yet she understood only too well. She and Jilly had always survived by keeping their hearts under wraps. But sometimes, you just had to unwrap a little. As she had, for Blair.

Blair. With an unpleasant little jolt, she recognised a reflection of Jilly’s behaviour in herself. She’d let Blair in but only up to a point. She held on blindly to what she saw as her independence, forcing herself to go home at night so as not to share too much. She, who’d refused to be anyone’s sex toy, had made herself just that, tried to make Blair just that. Her throat closed up. Emotion swamped her in such a flood that she had to force herself to concentrate on the road.

What would she do now without Blair? The weird, arrogant, controlling bastard. The monster who drank her blood and anyone else’s he fancied. The being who still fascinated her and made her laugh, who made her
alive
…

If Jilly was wasting precious time, precious once-in-a-lifetime opportunity by not going to Genesis Adam, what the hell was
she
doing that was so much bloody better?

With an indrawn breath that sounded more like a sob, Sera drove straight past Serafina’s and on to Blair’s house. There was a light burning in the upstairs sitting room.

She used her own key to get in the main front door and ran along the hall, calling, “Blair?” She pushed open the sitting room door and stopped short.

Blair rose from his armchair like a perfect gentleman. His undead guest, reclining on the sofa, smiled and raised a dusty whisky bottle to her in a silent toast.

“Phil? I didn’t know you were back in Edinburgh.” Distracted, Sera stared at the bottle. “Is that Dale Ewan’s?” she demanded.

Blair inclined his head, his dark eyes alight with laughter. He turned to the table behind him and picked up a bottle of red wine that also looked familiar, presenting it to her with a flourish and a bow.

Sera’s breath caught. She wanted to laugh. “Blair—Blair, you can’t
do
that! You can’t nick people’s stuff as presents for your friends! Even if they’re cheating, murdering bastards.”

“Did you come to tell me off?” he enquired telepathically.

She met his gaze and swallowed. “No. No, I came to tell you—come here.” She grabbed his hand in her free one and dragged him out of the room and across the hall to the bedroom, since it was closest. There she dropped the wine bottle on the bed and reached up to take his handsome face between her hands.

“I came to tell you that I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice cracked. “And that I love you.”

His lips and his eyes softened. In silence, he smoothed her hair, cupped her cheek, and bent to kiss her. It was a kiss of tenderness more than passion, although with Blair, that could never be entirely absent.

When the kiss broke, she said shakily, “And if the Founder himself comes between us, I’ll stake the bastard.”

Blair threw back his head and laughed.

****

Two weeks after he’d come out of his “coma” and five days after the astonished doctors had allowed him to go home, Genesis Adam opened his door to a surprise visitor.

Dale stood there, looking sheepish. As if he’d eaten Adam’s sandwich.

“Fancy a pint?” he said with a weak smile.

“No, Dale, I don’t.” Adam didn’t budge, didn’t take his eyes off his one-time friend. His neck, his whole body prickled. He supposed that was inevitable. And yet he didn’t close the door in Dale’s face. Something—curiosity, maybe—made him wait.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“I know.” Dale’s gaze moved beyond him. He actually twisted his neck to peer through the open living room door. “What are you doing?”

“Work. For the launch.”

Dale straightened. “I signed all the responsibility over to you.”

“I know. They’ll still do you for fraud.”

Dale drew in his breath. “I came to say I’m sorry.”

Adam laughed.

Dale coloured. “I know it’s inadequate, but what else is there?”

“Nothing, Dale,” Adam said deliberately. “Nothing at all.”

“I’ll go to prison. We both will.”

“I hate to be vindictive, but so you bloody should.”

“I know,” Dale said humbly. “And I know it’s out of your hands. You couldn’t stop it if you wanted to, and I don’t blame you for not wanting.”

“Good.”

“I just—I just wanted you to understand. It was for her. Petra.”

“I know.”

“I love her. Can you understand that?”

For the first time, pity for Dale began to outweigh all Adam’s confused emotions of hurt and anger and disgust.

“I can understand love,” he said evenly. “What I can’t understand is loving someone who’d want or even accept what Petra demanded of you. I’ve known you for years. I was best man at your wedding. And yet I never fucking knew you.”

“I never knew myself,” Dale said hollowly. “I never meant to kill you, just take the company from you. I thought you’d just storm off in a rage and set up on your own. I thought I could live without your friendship if we had all the company, all the income from the new system.”

Adam stared at him. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

Dale shook his head. “You’d have said no.”

That was probably true.

“A poor excuse for theft,” Dale added quickly. “But as you know it went beyond that and I had to cover my own ass as well as Petra’s. At first I was just relieved Petra hadn’t killed you. It was Petra who kept you from bleeding to death, you know.” His lips tugged upward at one side. “She said we couldn’t bury
two
bodies in the garden, and Killearn was already dead. It was my idea to hook you up to the VR. I could pretend to myself we hadn’t killed you that way, and when Petra wanted to turn off the VR and deal with the problem, I wouldn’t let her, even when we thought the poltergeist might be you. You could say
she
did that for
me
.

“But it got harder to keep everything straight. Trying to think of you as dead so I didn’t betray you were alive. Thinking of you alive to stop myself going mad with guilt.”

Dale stopped talking. Getting no response, he swallowed. “I just want you to understand, I’m sorry I couldn’t change it.”

Adam’s smile was twisted. “No, you couldn’t, could you? I gave you the opportunity, and even in a game you wouldn’t stop her. I think we’re finished here, Dale, don’t you?”

Dale nodded with genuine misery and half turned away. “At any rate, I’m glad to see you looking so well.”

“No harm done, eh?” Adam mocked, and Dale’s uncomfortable flush deepened. Adam took pity once more. “For what it’s worth, you probably did the world a favour. Stuart and the rest of the medical profession are stunned by what the VR machine did for me over five months. They’re investigating possibilities for coma victims.”

Dale almost laughed, almost like old times, almost like the half-guilty laughter over sick student jokes. But only almost.

****

On Saturday morning, while Jilly was having a late breakfast, the buzzer sounded and she found her brother Andy on her doorstep. She let him in the security door without a word and opened the flat door for him while she went to put the kettle on.

“What’s got you up so early?” she asked, when he strolled into the kitchen.

He shrugged and threw himself onto a kitchen chair. He wore tracksuit bottoms, and a hoodie covered his fair head. He looked as if he’d had a hard night out stealing cars. “Ma said you were looking for me. And I wanted to tell you Axel’s in clink. No bail.” He grinned at her. “Thanks.”

Jilly grunted. “Keep it in your trousers if you don’t want it cut off.” She poured two mugs of tea and shoved one across the table to him before sitting down, taking the bank notes from under the salt cellar, and pushing them toward him too.

“What’s this?” Andy asked suspiciously.

“Go to London if you want. Go and find that girl if you were prepared to risk the wrath of Axel for her. Just get out of this, Andy.”

Andy stared at her, glanced at the money, then back to her face. “Can’t, can I?”

“I spoke to Mum.”

“Is that what upset her?”

“Probably. I put the responsibility in her hands, where it should always have been since he won’t take it himself. I said if she insisted on staying with him, if she wanted to keep him out of prison, then she had to make sure he gave no further cause to be there. I made some threats I’m not proud of, but I’m quite prepared to carry out. I’m as sure as I can be he’s safe.”

Andy’s breath shook. “Fuck, Jillian.”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair what I made you do. None of it was fair.”

“You didn’t make me, Jillian. He’s my dad too.”

“He’s not mine,” Jilly said in small, hard voice. She made an effort and smiled. Surprisingly, it was easy. The shadow blighting her life seemed to have lifted. Or at least been cast into insignificance by a different unhappiness.
Stupid cow.
“Anyway, that’s to get you away if you want to go. If you don’t, use it for something I won’t hit you for later. Cheers.”

Andy pushed down his hood, grinned at her, and raised his mug. “Cheers. Fuck, I might even pay you back.”

Jilly snorted with derision, but they both knew she was pleased. And she really did have hopes for Andy, she thought as she closed the flat door behind him. This time.

She walked back into the kitchen and put the used tea mugs in the sink. She was just rinsing them out when a knock sounded at the door.

She hurried to the door, already speaking as she pulled it open. “Andy, for G—”

It wasn’t Andy.

Genesis Adam stood facing her, a faint, slightly crooked smile tugging at his lips. His dark hair was as untidy as ever, and he wore a black leather jacket open over jeans and a blue sweatshirt. He carried a large bouquet of flowers, which he lifted toward her.