Going Viral

by Andrew Puckett

  ‘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.

  Chapter 17

  You know how it is when you’ve been in a different world, a really different world, which nevertheless made perfect sense at the time? It can be in a dream, or more rarely (but more acutely) when you’ve passed out.

  Anyway, it made such sense to me that it was coming back into this world that seemed so screwy and I wanted to shout: This is all fucking nonsense, let me stay in the other place…

  But of course you’re stuck with this world, which you know somehow isn’t as good as the one you’ve just left…

  And then you realise that you have shouted: This is all fucking nonsense etc.… because an attractive staff nurse is looking at you strangely and saying, ‘What’s all fucking nonsense?’

  I tried to apologise, but she said, ‘Don’t worry – it’s good to have you back with us.’

  ‘How long have I…?’

  ‘Oh, about twelve hours. It’s eight in the morning, just after – does that make any sense to you?’

  I nodded and wished I hadn’t. ‘Got a shitty headache.’

  ‘Not really surprising. We’ll be keeping you in for a day or two in case of concussion.’

  She got me something for the headache, and once the pain had eased a bit, I slept.

  When I woke, I hadn’t been in the other world again, which was perhaps a good sign. My head still ached, although bearably. I touched it and felt a thick bandage.

  ‘Herry…?’ a voice said…

  I turned my head slightly and opened my eyes. It was Sarah.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ she said.<
br />
  I couldn’t help it, I was laughing, even though it hurt my head rotten …

  ‘Was told you were at death’s door,’ I managed, ‘told you were in hospital asking for me, I came in, got thumped, and now it’s you coming to see me…’

  ‘And that’s funny?’

  ‘Well, isn’t it?’

  ‘Who told you I was at death’s door?’

  ‘The ward sister rang me up…’

  ‘What ward sister?’

  I closed my eyes and, keeping my head still, told her about it.

  ‘But who’d want to do that?’ she said.

  ‘I’d quite like to know that,’ I said. I thought for a moment – it was reassuring that I could think… ‘Someone who knows about me - and you and Grace, obviously – and is mad at me…’ I opened my eyes and looked at her… ‘I think we both know someone like that.’

  She shook her head and it hurt just to see it.

  ‘No. Dad’s a shit, but he wouldn’t do that. He’d do something more… cerebral…’

  I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t say anything… then I thought of –

  ‘Roland! Why was he so against having the meeting last night…?’

  Of course, she didn’t know what I was talking about I had to tell her, some of it, anyway – not the fact we were waiting for a smallpox outbreak to hit us any moment – so I told her about his jealousy and the fact he’d been undermining me and trying to take over the SCRUB team…

  ‘But you’ve always told me it’s a waste of time…’

  I said, ‘It’s a status thing, a symbol of the fact he didn’t get my job.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘Is there something you aren’t telling me, Herry?’

  I was wondering what the hell I could say to that when the door opened and Rebecca came in. She had a bunch of flowers and a brown paper bag, which I guessed held grapes. Obviously a traditionalist.

  Sarah looked round and I saw her brow contract and her mouth tighten. I don’t know whether it was Rebecca she was annoyed at, or the fact that she’d brought flowers and grapes… anyway, she jumped to her feet –

  ‘Don’t go…’ I began, just as Rebecca said,

  ‘You don’t have to go…’

  ‘I know I don’t, but far be it for me to be a gooseberry…’ And she flounced out. There aren’t many women who can do a good flounce these days, but Sarah was one of them. The door slammed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Rebecca said.

  ‘Don’t be,’ I said, but then I found that just for a fleeting moment, I was – sorry she’d gone, that is…

  ‘What happened?’ Rebecca asked.

  I told her as much as I could.

  ‘Can you describe them?’

  ‘Big and nasty, but otherwise no.’

  ‘Did they say anything?’

  ‘Not a sound.’

  She let out a sigh. ‘That’s what the witness said, the guy who scared them off and called for help. You owe him.’

  ‘I know. Who was he?’

  She looked in her notebook. ‘Darren Murrell. He’s a porter.’

  I grunted. ‘Didn’t know we still had any. I’ll go and see him as soon as I’m up and thank him.’

  ‘He did say one thing…’

  I waited.

  ‘When he shouted, one of them looked up at him – they were both wearing balaclavas – then very deliberately kicked you in the head. They meant to harm you, he said. You, specifically.’

  I told her how I remembered that kick. ‘It’s why they’re keeping me in.’

  ‘So who was it? Who set them onto you, I mean?’

  I told her I could only think of Roland or Pops.

  ‘Why Wade-Stokes?’

  ‘He wants my job. Both of them.’

  ‘Putting you out of action might get him the SCRUB team, but not your main job. Would it?’

  ‘It would be a first step. And there’s another thing…’ I told her how Roland had been badmouthing me to the rest of the team, the meeting I’d arranged for that evening and how he’d pleaded with me to put it off…

  Her eyes took on that inward look they had when she was thinking. After a moment, she said, ‘Were you convinced by it… why he couldn’t come?’

  ‘I was at the time, or I wouldn’t have accepted it.’

  ‘Would he know how to find heavies like that at such short notice?’

  I shrugged. ‘No idea.’

  Another pause, then, ‘D’you really think he wants your job that much?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask him that.’

  ‘Oh I will, don’t you worry – I’m having them both in the moment we’ve finished here.’

  I nodded slowly. She said, ‘But I get the impression you don’t really think it was either of them?’

  My turn to sigh. ‘It’s just not their style…’

  ‘What is their style?’

  ‘Pops works through unofficial channels, always has. And as you know, he’s done that already – after the row we had.’

  ‘But it didn’t work, did it? From what you told me, he went out on a limb to try and get you back with your wife and you chucked it back in his face. Maybe he saw this as the only answer.’

  I shrugged. ‘Maybe. But I think he’d rather go on trying to undermine me.’

  ‘OK, what’s Wade-Stokes’ style? Would he go for violence?’

  ‘He’d have to be pretty desperate.’

  She said, ‘You see, I’m wondering if it was John Amend-all.’

  Pause… ‘But that would mean that they know about me...’

  ‘They probably do anyway, if they’ve done their research – SCRUB’s not that hard to find on the web. What worries me more is that they might know about me.’

  ‘Well, it’s nice to know your priorities…’

  She leaned forward. ‘Putting me out of action might help them, but why you, what would it gain them?’

  I shrugged. ‘Disrupting our efforts?’

  ‘What efforts?’

  ‘At finding them…’

  ‘But you’re only peripheral in that – your job’s managing an outbreak, should there be one.’

  I said, ‘I don’t know… it seems even less likely than Pops or Roland.’

  ‘Is there anyone else you’ve annoyed?’

  I shook my head before I could remember not to – ‘Can’t think of any.’

  ‘Besides, why would they do something that indicates we’re on the right track? It just doesn’t make sense…’

  The Staff Nurse came in with some pills and said it was time I had some rest. I was quite glad, because my head was throbbing again. Rebecca asked if she could take a short statement from me first. Nursey looked to refuse, so I said it was all right. Not because I wanted to, but Rebecca might need it as ammunition against Roland and Pops.

  It was done in about ten minutes, then I took the pills and sank into a kind of semi-slumber. At least, that’s what I thought it was, but when I woke, they told me I’d been out for nearly six hours.

  Rebecca was asking to see me again. It felt as though hardly any time had passed since she’d been there before, but she’d done quite a lot.

  Both Roland and my beloved Pater-in-law had been questioned – vigorously and at length. I was untroubled by any thought of their discomfort. They’d both absolutely denied anything to do with the attack, no surprise there, but Rebecca had been inclined to believe them.

  ‘What about Roland’s reasons for not being able to go to the meeting?’ I asked.

  ‘All true, so far as we could make out. His wife was on call, and his parents and in-laws do live some distance away.’

  ‘You’d think he’d be able to find someone…’

  You would, she agreed… ‘He said he didn’t get on with his neighbours and happened to know his friends were busy that night.’

  ‘And you believed him?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘More to the point, I believed him when he said he simply wouldn’t know how to go about hiring thug
s to beat you up.’

  ‘He is very good at sincere,’ I observed. ‘What about my esteemed father-in-law? I bet he’d know how to…’

  She said, ‘He came across just as you said he would. He told us he didn’t have to resort to hired thugs to make your life uncomfortable. His exact words. I believed him.’

  ‘But you can’t rule them out?’

  No, not entirely, she agreed.

  *

  I slept through the night. My head still hurt in the morning and the reg said she wanted to keep me in another night. I seriously thought about overruling her, but when I tried getting out of bed, the pain doubled and I nearly fell over.

  They let Tim come to see me a couple of hours later, when the painkillers had started to work. He’d gone to the Bath laboratory on his own and had just begun telling me about it when Rebecca arrived. He started again.

  ‘The lab’s got all the equipment they need to grow the virus,’ he said, ‘but their security’s very good.’

  He told us how Mary Broomfield was in as good a position as anyone to grow it, but he found it difficult to see anyone getting away with it for long.

  ‘She doesn’t come in during the evenings or weekends, then?’ I said.

  He shook his head. ‘Nobody does, unless they’re on call – which she doesn’t do.’

  ‘What’s she like?’ Rebecca asked.

  ‘Oh, late thirties, dark hair streaked with grey, a bit plain… and unmarried,’ he said. ‘No ring,’ he added to Rebecca’s quizzical look.

  ‘We’ll make a detective of you yet,’ she said.

  He went on, ‘And she doesn’t like men.’

  ‘How d’you know that?’ she demanded.

  ‘She didn’t like me –’ he hurried on before we could make the obvious comment – ‘and the other men around all avoided her.’

  ‘Definitely a detective,’ I said.

  He smiled cheesily. Rebecca said,

  ‘So the bottom line is you don’t think it’s worth pursuing?’

  ‘No.’

  They stayed for a bit longer and tossed a few ideas about. I asked Tim if he’d heard any more from Roland and he said no.

  But before we could really develop that theme, nursey came in and shooed them away.