Going Viral (14 page)

Small television, large bookcase with a mix of fiction and fact. A rather nice landscape over the fireplace, an original in oils. Colour prints of a still life and a seascape on the other walls. The fireplace itself also looked original –

He came back in with a tray.

‘Who painted that?’ she asked, nodding at the landscape.

‘Someone called Matthews,’ he said, handing her a mug. ‘I bought it in a sale. I don’t know anything about him.’

‘It’s good.’

He smiled and sat beside her. ‘That’s what I thought.’

His smile made the best of his face, she thought – probably why he did it so much… She wondered if he’d ever been married, or lived with anyone.

‘How long have you lived here?’

‘Must be five years now. I lived in a box on an estate before that. I prefer it here. More real.’

‘I grew up in a house like this,’ she said.

‘London?’

‘Peckham.’ She went on, ‘Where do you come from? You’re not from round here are you, although you’ve got a slight accent… Gloucester?’

‘Not bad,’ he said, ‘Bristol.’

He leaned over and kissed her, very gentle, a brushing of the lips. She didn’t respond at first, then she did. He drew back, regarded her for a moment, then took her mug from her and placed it on the small table beside his.

He kissed her again, softly, then deeply and she found she was liking it … the bantering with Sophie earlier had made her wonder fleetingly if he was gay, but she was quite certain he wasn’t now.

Time passed... His fingers stroked her cheek, went behind her head. She stroked his face, his fingers glided down her back and she realised it was getting out of control…

‘Don’t rush me,’ she said. ‘I need time.’

He nodded gently and she realised that just for a moment, she’d meant it. She kissed his cheek, stood up and pulled on her coat again.

He went with her to the door, kissed her again before opening it, stood in the doorway as she drove off.

Well
now…

Would he have done that if he was part of John Amend-all?

He might, but on balance, she didn’t think so. What about the others, though…?

Was Craig just being polite with his
Oh
,
that’s
just
Hannah
stuff, was there still violence in her? Aggression, certainly… and yet she hadn’t reacted to the bedroom incident anything like as much as she might…

She parked and went up to the flat. Threw off her coat, turned up the heating, poured a large glass of wine and took a swig. Rolled and lit a fag.

What about Marc?

Seemingly gentle and civilised, he certainly seemed to have Hannah’s measure. A controlled, maybe even a controlling person…

Sophie… flashes of seriousness, maybe even anger, behind a curtain of scurrilous banter… a mask?

Another fag, more wine. Her brain fizzed and sparked… Sometimes it seemed as though the whole lot of them were hiding behind masks…

Alan, Malcolm – Ron, certainly…

Emma and Will so comfortably ensconced over the shop that it seemed an article of faith that they shouldn’t be disturbed… She wished she could have a look round their flat herself now, but couldn’t see how without raising suspicion… if they were involved, that is…

Did she think that?

Probably not, although tomorrow she’d have another word with the two plods who’d looked it over…

What else?

See how Herry was – she’d forgotten about him…

Was his beating significant? Her instinct said Yes, but
how
…?

She thought about Craig again, wondered how far she should let it go – all in the line of duty, of course – who’re you kidding Reb, you liked it…

But
that’s
how
you
made
a
fool
of
yourself
last
time
, a warning voice in her head whispered…
falling
for
someone
in
the
line
of
duty
…

Chapter 19

I was released – sorry, discharged – on Sunday morning. They said I’d better not drive for a day or two, so Rebecca took me home. I hadn’t asked her to, she said she wanted to talk to me. The police had taken my car home earlier.

It was still cold and the roads were lined with piles of dirty snow. She asked me how I was feeling and I said all right.

‘Just all right?’

‘My head doesn’t ache so much, but it still feels vacant.
I
feel vacant.’

She said that wasn’t surprising. ‘Did you manage to see the porter?’ she asked.

‘He came to me – to ask how I was.’

‘Decent of him.’

I agreed, then after a pause, asked if they’d got any further yet on who’d done it.

‘No. I’ve interviewed both your father-in-law and Wade-Stokes again, and… I just don’t know. They both still vehemently deny anything, there’s no evidence, but I can’t eliminate them.’

She glanced quickly at me. ‘If you had to choose, which of them would you go for?’

She wanted a snap answer, but I couldn’t give one. After a moment, I said, ‘Pops is more ruthless... Although if I knew a bit more about why Roland didn’t want to come to the meeting that night… but then again, you’ve said his excuse is a reasonable one… I’m sorry, I just don’t know.’

She said, ‘What if it
were
connected with John Amend-all?’

I stared at her. ‘Do you really think that?’

‘Get beaten up on a regular basis, do you?’

‘No.’

‘Bit of a coincidence then, isn’t it?’

‘But
why
? We went over this – what could they gain from it?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know, it’s just that I have a problem with coincidences.’ She sighed. ‘I hope it’s not something we’re rudely enlightened about.’

We drove in silence after that till we got to my house. She came in without either of us saying anything. I made coffee for her and tea for myself. We had it in the sitting room. She asked whether I was going back to work tomorrow.

‘They’ve advised against, but in the circumstances, I think I have to.’

‘What circumstances?’

‘After what’s happened, I’ve got to have a SCRUB meeting and make it clear who’s boss.’

She nodded. ‘I suppose so.’

I remembered something else. ‘Are you happy about dropping the Bath connection for now – after Tim’s visit?’

‘I think so,’ she said … ‘The only thing is, at the dinner I went to last night, a couple of them got very heated about
Open
Door
– that’s the group in Bath Mary Broomfield’s a member of.’

I’d forgotten about her cosy dinner date. I asked what had happened and she told me about the spat and how the host had to shut them up.

‘Craig… Is that the guy you thought fancied you?’ I asked.

‘I still do think so,’ she said, the faintest smile touching her mouth. She told me how he’d invited her into his house for coffee afterwards.

‘Wasn’t that a bit risky, if he’s involved?’

‘The boss knew where I was, and anyway, he’s not at the top of my list. Besides which, he was a perfect gentleman.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ I said. ‘He’s bound to try it on again, though…’

‘Will I lie back and think of England, you mean? Well, it’s not really any of your business, but as it happens, I don’t think it’ll be necessary.’

‘That could have more than one meaning,’ I said before I could stop myself.

‘So it could,’ she said. Then – ‘There’s another thing I ought to tell you - the Government’s making an announcement tomorrow morning that they’re increasing the overseas aid budget by –’

‘
You
mean
they’re
giving
in
?’

‘No, I don’t mean that. They’re increasing the whole budget by about three quarters of a billion and not saying how much of it goes to Africa. It’s something they were going to do anyway, and they’re announcing it now so as to get some kind of reaction from John Amend-all.’

‘The most likely one is to say it’s not enough.’

‘Maybe, but the way they do that might help us.’ She put her mug on the coffee table and stood up. ‘Anyway, I hope you feel better tomorrow. Ring me if anything comes up.’

I saw her to the door and watched her drive away, then spent the rest of the afternoon moping about the house.

I checked that the car started and then had a bath. I still had the bandage on my head and had to be careful not to get it wet, which meant not washing my hair. Poor lamb, I hear you say, but my scalp felt greasy and itchy. However, the hot water eased my aches and bruises and I felt better for it.

I scratched up a meal (like the last time I was home) only this one featured baked beans quite a lot, as a counterpoint to the all stodge they’d served up in hospital.

Wine, TV, a book and then bed. Despite all the sleep I’d had in hospital, I slept like the dead… perhaps not the most appropriate figure of speech in the circs...

The next morning, I made a point of listening to the news on the radio, and sure enough, the Government’s announcement was made just as Rebecca had said. I wondered whether John Amend-all was listening, what they were thinking at this moment.

I got to work half an hour late, which wasn’t bad. After all the obligatory enquiries after my health, sincere for the most part, I arranged a SCRUB meeting for the afternoon, then caught up with paperwork, calls and messages. Tim dropped by.

‘How’re you feeling?’

‘I’ve felt better.’

‘Any idea who did it yet?’

‘No.’ I told him how the cops’d interviewed Pops and Roland, but got nowhere.

He lowered his voice. ‘Is it connected, d’you think?’

‘The inspector thinks so, but can’t see where. Neither can I.’

He thought for a moment. ‘The thing is, even if they knew about SCRUB, I don’t see how it could help them.’

The inspector thought the same, I told him.

‘How sure are you –
they
– that’s it’s not Roland? I mean, coming just after he’d got you to rearrange the meeting…’

‘I know, but would he really go that far just to be Area Leader?’

He shrugged. ‘You tell me.’

Which is where we left it. He obviously had something else on his mind and I waited for him to spit it out.

‘The meeting you were going to have last Friday… you were going to clear the air, weren’t you?’

He waited for me to nod.

‘Are you still going to do that this afternoon?’

I was, I assured him.

‘Good,’ he said.

After he’d gone, I pondered awhile on how I intended to fulfil those fine words…

They’d all turned up by two. Roland was not only on time, but wasn’t the last to arrive for once. After assuring them I was on the highway to health, I checked their vaccination certificates and whether their Green Bags were all up to date.

‘Which brings me to another topic,’ I said. ‘I’m sure – in fact I
know
– you’re all aware that my wife Sarah, my estranged wife, informed me last week that I have a daughter…’ There were nods as I looked around… ‘And that shortly after that surprise, I was beaten up and had to spend a few days in hospital.’ I touched the bandage on my head.

‘I also know…’ I slowed down as I said this… ‘that the question has arisen as to whether these events have compromised my effectiveness as Area Leader.’ I looked round at them again, one by one.

‘I think the best answer I can give is to use the words of the late, lamented Harold Wilson, when his leadership was questioned…
I
know
what’s
going
on
.’ Pause. ‘
I
am
. Are there any questions or observations on that?’

Anne quickly said how glad she was I was feeling better now, and Helen asked if the police had any idea who’d done it, or why.

Thank you, and no, not yet.

They asked a few more questions and we talked for a while. Roland didn’t say anything. Then they all left, except for him.

‘A word, Herry?’

A nod. ‘Sure.’

He shut the door. ‘I know we’ve had our differences, but please believe me, I would never stoop so low as to have you beaten up because of it.’ He looked me squarely in the eye as he said this.

I’ve never been quite sure about that –someone looking you straight in the eye. Conventionally, it’s taken as a sign of sincerity, but I remember a psychologist telling me that
because
of that, it’s what all liars do. The
true
sign of sincerity, he said, was to look just to one side of the face, at a point over your shoulder, say.

I said nothing.

He went on, ‘I’ve also been told, by Fenella, that I’m only still on the team because you wanted it that way. I want you to know that I appreciate that and will serve you loyally.’

Which was laying it on a bit thick, I thought. He held out his hand.

I took it, then asked if he’d checked all the Red Bags in Ward Seven yet, the ones for treating patients at the sites of infection. He assured me it was in hand.

*

Later, I went to Casualty, where a nurse took off the bandage and expressed satisfaction with what lay underneath. I asked if I could wash my hair. She looked doubtful. I begged, and realising that I was almost certainly going to anyway, she gave her assent.

Supermarket, home, meal. Then a bath with hair wash –
Ahh
! Then wine, book and bed.