The Aura (23 page)

“He’s okay. Recovery will be slow because of the damage done by the ruptured appendix, which released a lot of bacteria. They have him hooked up to IVs for fluids and antibiotics and are moving him to a room now.” Leo rubbed his eyes with his fist. “It was hard… he looked so fragile.”

“I need to see him,” I said.

“You need to get home to bed. You can see him in the morning.”

“No.” When I shook my head, I felt as though a wave of water had sloshed from one ear to the other. I flicked a glance at Gabe, who was clutching a handful of lego bricks and looking at us both intently.

“I really need to see him now.” I had to see if the aura had disappeared, but didn’t want to say anything in front of Gabe. I saw understanding dawning on Leo’s face.

“Okay. Just for a minute,” he said.

The trek to Aidan’s room took forever, along corridors, in elevators, and through more corridors that were lined with doors open to darkened rooms where patients slept.

Aidan’s room was still lit and partitioned into two by a curtain. Low voices murmured on the other side. He was asleep, propped up, his face as white as the pillows. Several IV tubes ran into his arm. Gabe reached for my hand and squeezed it. “He looks really sick,” he said in a whisper.

I leaned over and stroked the hair back from Aidan’s forehead. His skin was cold and dry. I gazed at him, at the area around his head. The air was as still and motionless as he was, not a tremble or flicker of the aura remaining. I gave Leo a big smile. He expelled a huge breath and smiled back. He had never wanted to believe in the aura, but he obviously had, whether consciously or not. We would need to talk about it, but not yet. Not until Aidan was well.

Leo drove Gabe and me back home. I’d said I’d stay for a day or two, so that Leo could sit with Aidan at the hospital. When we got to the house, I carried Gabe from the car. He was worn out, but he woke up enough to ask me to sleep in his room, so I straightened the duvet on Aidan’s bed and crawled in. It was soothing to sleep under the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.

When I woke up, the curtains were dappled with daylight, but I snuggled deeper under the duvet and closed my eyes, dozing until Gabe crept into the room with a mug of tea for me.

I was sore from the fender bender, but felt my shoulder loosening up under a hot shower. I went downstairs to help Gabe, who was making bacon sandwiches for breakfast. We passed the day on the sofa, watching cartoons and drinking hot chocolate. Leo came by in the evening with takeout Indian and updates on Aidan, who was still sleeping a lot, knocked out by the morphine.

On Sunday afternoon, Leo made arrangements for his girlfriend to look after Gabe, and I headed back to London on the train. I was anxious to see Josh. I wished we hadn’t fought over the glass panels; not, I reflected, that they were really the cause of the problem. The aura was the issue. I didn’t blame Josh for needing some time to come to terms with it, but I missed him. I missed the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching, the way his dark brown hair curled against the back of his neck. I missed him and I needed him, in a way that I’d never let myself need anyone before. But I had an uneasy feeling that he was slipping away from me. The aura visions were making me behave differently. I didn’t like this new me. How could I expect Josh to?

And there was Nick. I’d texted him a couple of times and he’d responded, so I knew he was alive. But for how much longer? I needed to see him, to assess the aura to see if it was any stronger. I couldn’t let him die.

I texted Josh when I got off the train at Paddington Station, but he didn’t answer. Disappointed, I stopped at a convenience store on the corner of my street, where I bought a microwaveable lasagna. It didn’t look very appetizing, but I needed to eat something. I had no energy to cook.

I was about to turn the microwave on when the phone rang. When I heard Josh’s voice, I felt a thrill of relief.

“I’ll bring food and we can have dinner together?” he offered.

Happy, I threw the lasagna in the bin and ran around, tidying up.

The sound of the doorbell was jarring in the silence of the apartment. I glanced at the clock. It was only six, even though the rain-soaked darkness made it seem much later. When I opened the front door, Josh wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into him, feeling the dampness of his coat through my thin silk shirt.

“I’ve been really worried about you,” he said, taking off his coat, which was dripping water that pooled into dark spots on the beige carpet. With the image of the bloodstains on Rebecca’s carpet flashing in front of my eyes, I took a step back.

“Are you okay?” Josh asked.

“Not really. A lot has happened.”

“Why don’t you sit while I heat up this food and make us some drinks.”

We moved to the kitchen, Josh pulling out a counter stool for me to sit on before turning his attention to a bottle of white wine. He handed me a glass.

“I’m sorry about your nephew. How’s he doing?”

I’d told Josh some of the story by text. Now I filled in the details of Aidan’s appendicitis and surgery. “He’s going to be fine, but it was frightening for a while.”

I left Aidan’s aura out of the story. There was no need to bring it up and risk spoiling the newfound harmony between us.

“Any updates on Rebecca?” Josh asked. “I thought the funeral would have been sooner.”

“It was delayed because of the autopsy. The police think it was murder.”

A look of shock crossed Josh’s face. “Murder? But who and how? I thought it was an accident?”

I told him about my own suspicions, the autopsy findings, and my meeting with Clarke. Josh put his hand over mine and held it there while I talked. I didn’t say anything about Clarke’s concerns for my safety.

When I finished, we sat in silence for a while. I heard the clock ticking in the living room and the muted sound of traffic from the street below.

“Kate, I need to apologize to you,” Josh said. “I got mad about the glass panels, which was really stupid of me. I know you weren’t going around me to Alan.” He sighed. “It’s no excuse, but I’ve been running on fumes for more than a month now. Alan’s working me really hard. Not just me, but Laura and Jim too. I get the feeling there’s something going on that we don’t know about.”

“Something wrong at the top, do you think?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll tell you if I learn anything.”

He paused, took a sip of wine. “How’s Nick doing?”

“I don’t know. I make excuses to check in on him by sending him messages. So far, so good, but I haven’t seen him for a week. I need to do that soon to check if the aura is any stronger. That reminds me. I saw Gary a few days ago.”

I told Josh about Gary’s hostility and his apparent jealousy of Nick’s friendship with Rebecca.

“Do you think he could have killed Rebecca?” Josh asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine anyone killing her, Gary or anyone else. Who could do that?”

I stifled a yawn. It wasn’t late, but I was exhausted. Josh began to clean up, rinsing plates and wiping down the counter. Then he put the kettle on.

“Chamomile tea?”

Reminded of Sister Chiara, I thought I should tell him about my meeting with her, but it seemed like more words than my brain could handle. I said yes to the tea. I’d tell him about the nun another time.

“How about I sleep on the sofa tonight?” he asked.

He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to object. “I won’t be in your way. I just want to be sure you’re all right. This isn’t a good time for you to be alone. I’ll let myself out in the morning.”

I had to admit to myself that I wanted the company. At the same time, I was nervous, not ready to jump into bed with Josh, and I wasn’t sure if that’s what he’d really meant.

As if divining my thoughts, he put down the teapot and came to take my hands in his. “Genuine offer. No strings attached,” he said. “I’m used to sleeping on sofas, and I’ll sleep better knowing that you’re close by. Okay?”

I nodded, emotion clogging my throat. Clinging to him, I felt the smoothness of his shirt against my cheek. Then we were kissing, tentatively at first, but with increasing urgency. Pleasure collided with anxiety. I wasn’t ready for this yet. I needed to keep my mind clear to solve the aura dilemma, to work out how to look after Nick. Still, I loved the feeling of Josh’s mouth on mine, the firmness of his body against my fingers. Abandoning my normal circumspection, I took his hand and led him to the bedroom. The aura hallucinations made me feel vulnerable and out of control. So what? That didn’t mean I had to put my entire life on hold.

I woke up a few times during the night to assure myself that Josh was still there. He was, his body curled around mine. In the soft glow from a streetlight, his hair looked black against the white pillow. He slept peacefully. I wondered if he was dreaming.

He must have got up while I slept because I woke to a gentle shake and a cup of tea on the bedside table. It was still dark, but it was that grey thin darkness that heralds the arrival of the day.

“I have to run home for a clean shirt,” he said. “I didn’t want to leave without saying anything. I’ll see you at the office.”

When I heard the front door close, I grabbed the pillow Josh had slept on, holding it against my chest while I thought about what had happened. Deciding that I felt ridiculously happy, I got up, took a shower and dressed, getting ready in record time. I wanted to be early to work.

When I reached my desk, I found a note telling me to go see Alan as soon as I arrived. Dread knotted my stomach. I knew my repeated absences had infuriated him; this final one had probably pushed him over the edge. So I dawdled, walking slowly along the corridors, hoping to see Josh, to perhaps enlist his support. There was no sign of him.

Alan kept the meeting brief, expressed his frustration and anger in colorful terms and recommended I take a month’s unpaid leave to get myself sorted out.

“I’d be justified in terminating you,” he said. “But I’m holding out hope that you can clean up your act and come back as a productive member of the team. Do a handover with Laura, who will be taking over your part of the project. Then get out of here before I change my mind and fire you.”

I left, having not uttered a single word. Even though I’d expected it, I was stunned. I bolted back to my office, avoiding any contact with other employees. After texting Josh to let him know and asking him to come over straight after work, I packed a few things in my briefcase. When I walked out the front door, I felt unhooked, like a boat come adrift from its dock.

I crossed the road to avoid a construction site, where men in orange vests wielded jackhammers. Barricades protected deep holes in the ground and the smell of old asphalt and gas made my nostrils burn. It seemed that London was in a constant state of repair, hardly surprising, given how long it had been standing. With nothing better to do for the day, I decided to walk home, detouring here and there to pass some of the City’s ancient buildings and monuments to remind myself of why I’d wanted to become an architect. I paused outside St. Bartholomews, the oldest church in the City. Built in the twelfth century, it had survived centuries of natural and human interventions, with some parts obliterated, and other features, like the Tudor gatehouse, added hundreds of years later. Admiring the Romanesque flint and stone walls, I thought of how resilient the old building was. It made me feel better. I could endure this temporary hiatus in my career. Lengthening my stride, I continued my journey through the narrow roads and alleyways of the old city, which gradually gave way to twentieth-century rows of shops and flats.

Back at my apartment, I cleaned the kitchen to the sound of the morning news on the television. The day stretched out in front of me like an interminable desert landscape. Josh was at work, Leo was teaching, Inspector Clarke was investigating. Even my retired father was probably busy writing his book. Paolo was treating patients, and I supposed that Sister Chiara was praying or gardening.

When my cell phone rang, I grabbed it, hoping it would be Alan to tell me he’d changed his mind. It was Inspector Clarke. He told me, with ill-concealed irritation, that the computer technician who worked on facial composite images was back at work. He had booked a time with Nick to create a sketch of the man thought to be Rebecca’s boyfriend.

“Can you come in to take a look at it tomorrow morning?” Clarke asked. “I’m sorry to ask. I know you’ll have to get to work. You can come early. Would eight be all right?”

I said yes, not wanting to tell him about my enforced medical leave. When he rang off, I sat, absorbing the silence. Being unemployed, even temporarily, felt awful. I answered on the first ring when my phone trilled again.

“Kate, it’s Jack. A little bird told me that you’re not at work today. What’s the problem?”

“Alan put me on leave for a month.”

“That seems harsh,” Jack said. The line wasn’t very clear. His voice faded in and out. “I’m on the train back from Edinburgh,” he said. “Sorry about the signal. Listen, come into the office tomorrow. I can smooth things over with Alan. He often jumps before he looks, you know. We need all hands on deck right now. Lots going on.”

“It’s my own fault,” I felt compelled to confess. “I’ve been out of the office a lot. It’s hard to blame Alan for being upset with me.”

“Are you ill? What’s the problem with all the time off?”

I contemplated telling Jack about the aura sightings. I trusted him. Ever since I joined the company, he’d been very good to me. He deserved to know the reasons why I’d been out so much.

“I’m not ill, but I have been having some issues,” I began. “Hallucinations, I suppose you could call them. That, and all the time, of course, around the investigation into Rebecca’s death. I’ve spent a lot of time with the police.”

“Rebecca Williams?” he asked, sounding as though he was in a tunnel. “Why are you involved in the investigation?”

“We were friends. I’ve been able to help the police with some details, and…”

The line went dead. Thirty seconds later, the phone rang.