Catch Your Death (8 page)

He met her eyes again, slowly, and Kate’s heart started hammering so hard that she was glad she was already sitting on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t help glancing behind her at its crisp white pillowcase and hospital waffle-weave blanket, and then blushed, in case he realized she was imagining them rolling around on it.

‘
Single,’ she said firmly. ‘Definitely...single.’

They chatted a little more about Kate’s illness, and Stephen visibly relaxed, becoming more animated and lively. He was gorgeous, Kate thought. Did he talk to all the young, attractive-ish women like this, or was it just her?

Somehow she knew it was just her.

‘
Right, let’s get your blood sample, so we can analyse it this afternoon.’

He tied a length of black rubber tubing above her left elbow, gently holding her forearm and peering at the veins that sprang up thick and red. Kate broke out in gooseflesh at his touch.

‘
Now, this’ll just be a little prick – uh, I mean, a small scratch.’ He seemed flustered again, and Kate noticed with amusement that he had blushed once more. Guess he didn’t want the words ‘little prick’ to be in any way associated with him, she thought, swallowing hard and looking over his shoulder, in order to stop a smirk escaping. His hands were shaking very slightly, but nonetheless Kate barely felt a thing as he slid the needle into her vein. They both watched in silence as the syringe filled with viscous dark blood.

‘
All done,’ he said, expertly removing the needle, sealing the tube and labelling it, then sticking a tiny round plaster on the soft skin inside Kate’s elbow. ‘Since you aren’t yet in quarantine, you can go to the dining room for your supper at six. I think most of the others here are already quarantined, so you might be on your own. If you could read the instructions in that folder, that’ll explain the rules about contact with the other patients, and what you are and aren’t allowed to do if and when we give you a cold.’

‘
If?’

‘
Yes – we don’t give a cold to everyone who comes here; you might be part of a control group. Oh, your roommate should be along this afternoon too. You’ve got a lady called….’ He consulted his clipboard, ‘…..Mrs. Harrington. Georgina Harrington. She’s in her fifties so don’t go having any wild parties and keeping her up all night, will you?’

Any disappointment that Kate might have felt about having a roommate, especially one much older than her, was instantly diminished by the way he was smiling at her.

‘
No wild parties?’ she queried straight-faced. ‘But what on earth will I do to stop myself getting bored while I’m here?’

He slowly reached out and touched the back of her hand with his forefinger.

‘
I can promise you won’t get bored. At least not on my shifts, anyway.’

After he’d gone, Kate lay back on her bed replaying the entire meeting in her mind, a huge smile spread over her face. She couldn’t believe what he’d said to her – nor what she’d said to him. It wasn’t at all like her to be so forward and flirty. There was just something about Stephen Wilson and his blond floppy hair and the way he looked at her with those big brown eyes…

She changed her mind about going for a walk, and retreated into the bathroom again, this time to pluck her bikini line and shave her legs. She hadn’t expected she’d need to do this – but she now had the distinct feeling it might be necessary. Pity she’d have to share with this Georgina woman. Although maybe Stephen had his own room where…

…
No, stop it, Kate told herself. He’s the doctor! Probably nothing’s going to happen.

But somehow she knew that it would.

‘
No, I don’t think I am going to be at all bored,’ she said out loud.

CHAPTER 10

The effort of telling the story had taken its toll on her. Kate tried to bite down on her yawn but it escaped, and then Paul yawned too, and they looked at each other and laughed.

‘
I think I need my bed,’ she said.

‘
Me too.’

As they stood up Paul turned to put his jacket on, and when he turned back he caught her eye. Something passed between them. Or was she imagining it? The tiredness that made her body feel strange, the state of the high emotion she was in, the mention of bed, and the undeniable fact that this man looked exactly like Stephen – it was a dangerous mix. She averted her eyes and concentrated on lifting Jack – god, he was getting heavy – hoping she hadn’t flushed pink the way she knew she did, and, if she had, hoping Paul hadn’t noticed.

Because he wasn’t Stephen. And wouldn’t it be a betrayal to get involved with his brother? Not that Paul would be interested in her. Would he? He would undoubtedly see it as a betrayal too. He could be married himself, for all she knew. Although he hadn’t mentioned it, and he wasn’t wearing a ring…She wanted to slap herself. Kate, what the hell are you thinking? This is the last thing you need now.

‘
Let’s meet here tomorrow morning,’ Paul said. ‘Nine o’clock?’

‘
Make it nine-thirty.’

‘
Okay.’

He hovered. What was he doing? She had this awful feeling he was trying to decide whether to kiss her goodnight.

‘
Night, Paul,’ she said.

‘
Okay. Night.’

She watched him walk across the lobby. At the revolving doors he looked back at her and nodded. A little shiver went through her.

After putting Jack to bed – he hadn’t stirred all the way from the coffee bar to the room; again, she had paranoid thoughts about being a bad mother because he hadn’t cleaned his teeth or washed his face – Kate lay down and tried to join him in sleep. But her brain was too active and her heart refused to slow down. She got up, fetched herself a glass of water and went out onto the balcony. Her room had a view of the river, the lights of the South Bank shimmering orange and lemon on the water. Voices floated up to her: a man shouting, a woman laughing. A plane drifted in the space between clouds.

Her life was in a mess. Her marriage was over, she had no home or job, and probably no friends any more. The only people she had were Aunt Lil, who barely recognised her, and her sister Miranda and her family.

When she’d boarded the plane in Boston she’d experienced the intoxicating thrill of new-found freedom, a euphoria that had made her want to stand up in her seat and scream with joy. But like a prisoner who busts out of jail after years inside, the euphoria didn’t last long. The outside world was a scary place.

But even though a primitive part of her – the part that longed for safety and comfort – wanted to flee back to the States, she knew she had done the right thing. She would get through this period.

If Vernon doesn’t find you, an internal voice whispered.

No, he wouldn’t find her. And if he did, what could he do?

He’ll say you’ve kidnapped your own son. He’ll take Jack back. He’s always threatened that he’d hunt you down if you ever tried to take him away. You’ll lose him.

No! That wasn’t right. She had brought Jack to England for his own good. It was the right thing to do. And she was English – the law would protect her here, wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t let Vernon take her son away from her, not here. Would they?

She was distracted from her worries by the sight of a mosquito flitting about near the window. She immediately thought of her work – the many long hours staring into an electron microscope, studying the West Nile Virus and others like it. Viruses are so tiny that they can only be seen with a modern electron microscope. So tiny that hundreds of thousands would fit on the size of a pin. Kate and her fellow researchers spent their lives absorbed in this miniature world.

If only all her problems were as small – not huge like all this stuff with Stephen and Paul. She hadn’t come back to England to chase ghosts. She didn’t intend to open this door to the past. Honestly, she hadn’t even thought about Stephen or the Cold Unit on the way back here – it had been the last thing on her mind. As she’d told Paul, she hadn’t thought about it for years.

But now she’d met Paul and read the letter, and a wound she’d thought long-healed had been torn open again. Feelings she thought were dead had proven themselves well and truly alive – and kicking.

Tonight, after Paul left, she had toyed with the idea of checking out at dawn and moving to another hotel. She didn’t need this complication. She had to find a school for Jack, a new job for herself. She had to get settled as soon as she could, for Jack’s sake, and so that Vernon wouldn’t be able to accuse her of being some kind of irresponsible vagrant.

But would she be able to go on with her life without finding out what had happened to Stephen and what she had “been right” about? She decided that she would spend another day, maybe two, with Paul, trying to figure out what had happened. She owed Stephen that. After that, even if they hadn’t unearthed the truth, she would have to put it aside and try to settle down.

She didn’t know that within forty-eight hours she would be on the run for her life; or that settling down wouldn’t be an option.

CHAPTER 11

Paul was waiting in the reception area when Kate emerged from the lift the next morning, Jack close by her side. He stood up to meet her, looking as tired as she felt, but also relieved. Perhaps he’d been worried that she might have done a disappearing act. She wouldn’t tell him how close she’d been to doing just that. She also wouldn’t tell him how relieved she felt, because getting dressed she’d wondered if he would actually be there. What if he’d had a change of heart? She could imagine him sitting at home, laughing to himself, thinking how crazy he was to get involved with this looney tunes chick with the dodgy memory.

Even though he looked tired, he also looked as if he’d made a bit of an effort before coming out. His hair had been washed and was fashionably spiked, though it had gone a little flat on one side, and he seemed to be wearing aftershave. A little too much aftershave, if truth be told. He was wearing different jeans too, expensive-looking ones, though obviously she didn’t know him well enough yet to lift the back of his jacket to check the label. Yeah, and check out his bum while you’re down there, whispered a little voice in her head.

‘
What is it?’ he said, looking alarmed. lohHave I got something on my face?’

She laughed and shook her head.

‘
I’ve brought my laptop so we can…’ He stopped himself, realising he’d forgotten something. ‘Morning Jack,’ he said.

‘
Hello. Um.’ He looked to his mum for help.

Paul laughed. ‘Don’t worry, mate, I couldn’t remember names when I was your age either.’

Jack looked puzzled. ‘My name’s Jack, not mate. You smell funny.’

‘
Jack!’ Kate exclaimed. ‘Sorry about that. You don’t smell funny. You smell…nice.’

Paul’s face twisted with awkwardness as he struggled to find a response. He was saved by Jack saying, ‘Mummy, what are we having for breakfast? I’m hungry.’

‘
How about going to Starbucks?’ Paul asked. He added, ‘They have wi-fi there.’

‘
They might have wi-fi, but I’m not sure if you can get a very healthy breakfast there,’ Kate said. But now Jack wanted to go to Starbucks. She gave in. McDonalds yesterday, now this. When this was over she was going to feed Jack nothing but organic fruit and vegetables for a month.

Paul said, ‘I called my parents last night. I just wanted to double check that they hadn’t received any letters from Stephen before he died, just in case he wrote to them too. They hadn’t, and then I felt bad for ringing and stirring things up, making them think about him.’

Kate touched his arm. ‘I imagine they think about him every day anyway.’

‘
Yeah. I guess you’re right.’

‘
They say you never get over the loss of a child.’ She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard over the din of milk being frothed in big stainless steel jugs.

Paul frowned. ‘I just wish that sometimes they’d realise that even though they lost one child, they still have another.’

Kate waited for him to continue, but at that moment they reached the head of the queue, and the barista took their order. She looked at his profile as he paid for them all, and felt that familiar tightness in her throat. Don’t cry, she fiercely told herself.

They found a table at the back of the coffee shop and sat down. Kate was remonstrating with Jack– ‘No, you can’t have a cake for breakfast, Jack’ – even though the pressure in her throat and behind her eyes had increased so much that she could barely speak. She had to get up again immediately.

‘
I just need to go to the loo. Jack, be a good boy.’

In the toilet, Kate put her face in her hands and let the tears come. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes, laughing at herself as she looked at the creature in the mirror with the mascara streaks. She quickly washed her face in the sink. She doubted Paul would notice the sudden absence of mascara, unless he was an unusually observant man. What if he knew she’d been crying and asked why? What would she tell h im?

She fixed a smile in place and came out of the bathroom.

They were gone.

To experience that feeling of panic, of your heart whooshing up through your chest, once in twenty-four hours was bad enough. Twice was too much. Why had she trusted this stranger? He must have been hired by Vernon to snatch Jack, and she had fallen for it.