by Roddy Murray
Eventually Blaine and Vic Zelnik appeared through the arrivals gate. Blaine looked a bit pale but not really any worse than when she had last seen him. If anything he looked slightly better rested. Maybe time with his family had helped him. She walked over and gave him a brief hug, still not fully comfortable with public displays of affection. Blaine gave her a squeeze round her waist and sneaked a brief kiss on her cheek.
"I've missed you," he whispered in her ear.
"Me too," she whispered back.
Together they walked out of the building to the pickup/ drop off point where a company people carrier was waiting. The driver put down the paperback he was reading and got out to help them with their luggage. Once everyone was safely on board he drove smoothly out of the airport towards the Edinburgh bypass.
Nobody spoke during the journey. Delores and Blaine sat next to each other and held hands. Bobby Bartleman and Vic Zelnik sat together but didn't speak. Bobby's medical colleague sat in the passenger seat beside the driver and looked out of the window. He didn't like Scotland, didn't like Edinburgh and didn't much like the work he did for Nebus, but it paid very well.
The driver didn't mind any of them but had long since learned to gauge the mood of his passengers and only engage in conversation when they wanted to. On this trip the mood was not chatty so he focused on the task of driving and nothing else. He and his colleague Jim took it in turn to provide whatever transport was necessary and only met when two vehicles were needed. On these few occasions they would compare notes on recent journeys and swap a large pile of paperback thrillers to while away the long gaps between driving duties. He wondered if Jim had had such a quiet group before and planned to ask him next time they met up.
When they arrived at Nebus, they all got out except Vic Zelnik who was booked into a hotel for the night and then had a seat booked taking him straight back to the states. Blaine had made it here safe and sound so he had done his part. Whatever lay ahead was in the hands of Dr Bobby Bartleman and his team at Nebus Bioscience. To be honest that suited Old Vic fine. He didn't like travel and was exhausted by the recent flurry of flights and extra duties he had had to undertake. He couldn't wait to get back home and into the old routine at Nebus head office which consisted of not very much work and long lunch breaks in between.
The others made their way into the building with the duty driver bringing along the luggage on a specially provided trolley. There, an American gorilla of a guard called Nick took charge of the trolley. Where do they get them from, the driver wondered, and headed back to the people carrier for the short journey to Dr Zelnik’s hotel near the airport. After that he was finished for the evening and could head off home. Jim had the morning trip to the airport on his schedule and not much else. A collect at The Hilton near the airport, a drop off from Nebus to a serviced flat in Edinburgh's New Town followed by about 150 pages of a paperback before taking the Hilton passenger back. No wonder they had both put on weight doing this job.
Inside the plant the small group of new arrivals followed Nick to D Section and made their way inside to an accommodation suite which backed on to The Nebraska Suite. Seeing the name Blaine briefly thought of his wife and family back home but quickly dismissed the image from his mind, though he did find the name comforting somehow.
The accommodation was spotless and looked very comfortable. Bobby explained that Blaine would have to remain in D Section for about two weeks but after that, all being well, he could move to a more relaxing venue to recuperate with Delores. Timings would depend on progress with the process of medical examinations and the treatment itself. Meanwhile there would be food available at all times and anything else he required could be arranged. Bobby would be about during daytime hours and Nick at night time should Blaine need anything.
"You'll probably find yourself quite tired by the end of each session and have to sleep," Bobby said at the end of his briefing. Then he added without realising the irony: "Delores will be accommodated in Edinburgh in the evenings. Tonight though we thought you might both like to spend the night here. There's an excellent Scottish chef here who enjoys producing great meals and I've asked him to stay on tonight and cook up something special. It will be served here in the Apartment at 7.30. I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that Bobby, his colleague and Nick left Blaine and Delores alone. After the obligatory long hug and passionate kiss they sat together on the sofa, conscious that dinner would be served there quite soon. Despite everything they had shared there was now an
awkwardness about being together. Both were nervous about what the future held and the dangers of the medical treatment which lay ahead but there was more to it than that.
Blaine knew the details of what he faced and wished he could tell Delores everything. That, however, would have been difficult. How do you tell someone you love that your only hope of being with them was essentially to become somebody else and expect them to understand? He felt guilty about not sharing this aspect of the plan with Delores, and he could tell that she knew he was keeping something to himself and that she resented it.
Delores did indeed feel left out of the situation but was prepared to accept that on trust. Maybe it was habit. Even as Blaine’s PA she was regularly k ept out of some of the most sensitive business meetings where new plans with the potential to greatly change share prices and profits were discussed. But there was more to her unease than just that. She had expected Blaine to arrive looking more ill than when she had seen him last, paler and fading away. Instead, after two weeks at home with Beth and the children he had returned looking so much healthier. Still obviously ill, but more rested and relaxed. She still had the vision of the family at the museum in her head and couldn't shake it. A voice deep within her brain kept asking, "Can you really steal a husband and father?"
Dinner arrived and they ate it together at the table. It was a delicious meal of Coquilles St Jacques in a ginger dressing, Chateau Briand following by something called Cranachan which neither had even heard of before. As they ate they talked and began to laugh and relax. Both were determined to put the other at their ease and although the laughter was forced and false at first they slowly returned to a familiar mood of enjoying each other’s company.
After they had finished eating, Delores pushed the trolley out of the apartment into the corridor and locked the door. Blaine had followed her and held her tightly as she turned back from the door. They made love in the king size bed which had been conveniently provided for the purpose, but it was a mere physical act. Both were lost in their own thoughts throughout.
Afterwards Blaine fell asleep immediately, exhausted from the travel and his illness but Delores lay awake for hours finding it impossible to sleep.
"Can you really steal and husband and a father?" she kept hearing.
In the morning they both rose early and dressed long before any of the staff might arrive. It was strange but old habits, even now when everyone here knew about them, died hard.
They had arranged to meet Bobby in his office which was close to the Nebraska Suite at 9.30, after having breakfast in the apartment. Blaine was due to go through a medical to check his general health and was then going to be connected to some monitoring computers which would have to be calibrated accurately for the early part of his treatment. As a result it had been agreed that Delores would head off back to her serviced flat in Edinburgh and return to have dinner with Blaine that evening. In fact that would form the pattern for much of the next two weeks she had been told. Again this had made her feel excluded and for the first time just a little resentful. After breakfast she kissed Blaine quickly on the cheek and headed off to the waiting transport.
Blaine headed to Bobby's office almost relieved that Delores was away and would be for much of the time he was here. He was finding it stifling to spend time with her without being able to be completely honest. He was also starting to doubt that she would go along with the whole plan when she discovered the full details. It was a big ask of anyone.
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But there was also something else at the back of his mind. During the two weeks he had spent at home he had got over the usual feeling of claustrophobia remarkably quickly. Admittedly he had been waited on hand and foot by Beth and spoiled with hugs and kisses by his kids. Anyone would have appreciated that, he knew. For the first time in a long while he had actually enjoyed spending time with his wife and family. The holidays camping in the national parks had been fun but mainly because he had enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of camping in the National parks. His family, he realised on reflection, had actually been detracting from the experience. But at home this time it had been different. He had felt a peacefulness that had been absent from his life for a very long time and he knew that his health had improved slightly as a result. He had even managed to play soccer with young Daniel one day. Not for long, but the hour or so represented a first and he had genuinely enjoyed the whole idea. He knew he was wavering and waited for his inner voice to tell him to "stick with the plan" but it didn't come.
Chapter Fifteen
The next day Frank awoke tired again but this time for no good reason. A quick dip in the pool failed to revive him and he sat in relative silence with Jim on the journey to the Nebus facility. With no real enthusiasm he headed inside resigned to a mundane day as a performing guinea pig for the team of child prodigies studying him.
The next week followed a similar pattern with constant testing, recording and early returns to a hotel he now found boring and mundane. The novelty of being pampered had worn off and he had started to count the days till he could go home and get back to the old routine. He phoned Paddy a few times and even Charlotte after she sent her phone number to him in her email.
His luck with the ladies seemed to have deserted him and despite daily forays to the leisure complex and the bar he had no further takers for his company. Each day he studied the graph on the computer to see how much of it had turned green and how much remained red. Part of him wanted it all to go green so that he could go home but another part of him seemed more and more disturbed as each section of the graph changed colour. He did not know why. But it did.
Although the name had been mentioned often enough to make him seem part of the team, Dr Robert "Bobby" Bartleman did not actually put in an appearance while Frank was there until the start of the third and final week. He appeared unannounced, while Frank was being recorded playing chess, a game he had only a
rudimentary understanding of. Bobby had been in the Penicuik suite for some time before Frank saw him and his surprise at seeing a stranger there was probably sufficient to turn a whole lot of the graph from red to green.
Bobby walked over to Frank and introduced himself in a very measured and educated American accent. They shook hands, with Frank careful not to hurt the hand which was likely to be signing his paycheck.
"Sorry we haven't managed to meet before now but things have been a bit hectic. I gather the team are making great progress with their scanning and recording. I hope you have been looked after. Is the hotel okay for you?"
Frank was about to make a quip about the recent lack of single women at the Hilton of late but decided against it. "Yes, very comfortable thanks. No problems at all." "Food okay?" Bobby continued with his polite interest in
Frank's well-being.
"Very good thanks, especially here in your canteen. I have no complaints at all."
"Good, good," said Bobby. "I believe David has mentioned that we have a matching project underway in D Section. It may be necessary to get you in there for a session before you leave us. Any objections?"
Frank's mind immediately raced to visions of the American lady he had seen in the canteen.
"None. None at all," he said with genuine enthusiasm. "I'd be delighted."
"Good, good," said Bobby again with a strange hint of anxiety in his voice. "I'll keep you posted and arrange a time later this week. For now we both better get back to the task in hand."
Frank nodded and smiled before reluctantly returning to the chess board. After chess he played snakes and ladders, poker for real money online, table tennis and watched Jeremy Kyle on daytime TV. He reluctantly smoked a cigarette, drank some beer and generally was forced to carry out a whole range of tasks to record his reactions. Over the course of the last five days he had been put into all sorts of possible situations and his brain function recorded. David had deliberately started an argument and tried to needle him about his army service, his drinking, his ex-wives and his kids. "You're a brave little bastard," Frank had thought at the time, as a genuine desire to punch David's lights out had flashed through his mind.
All the time this was going on the team were recording and checking the data. Each day when he arrived Frank would have a look at the graph on David's computer and see more green and less red. By the end of week two there was still a lot of red on the screen. It had been at that point that Frank had had to sleep over at the lab for a few nights. David had explained that they would be inducing certain brain activity as he slept to cover areas not yet recorded.
If Frank was honest about it, he was glad of the change of scene. The hotel was nice enough, he couldn't fault it but after the initial success with the ladies, pickings had been slim and he had become bored there. Bernie had been so busy they had never managed to have dinner together and he was not hopeful this would ever happen. Most of all though he just wanted the testing to stop so that he could go home. He wanted to get back to his daily routine. He wanted to be in charge again, shouting at his boot camp squad in the mornings at the seafront, getting his private clients fitter and getting himself away from kids with brains the size of planets. Here he was a guinea pig getting ordered around and he didn't like it. There was also that nagging sense of being exploited, despite the generous amount they were paying him (half of which had already been paid into his bank account) and the posh hotel. Something about that graph bugged him too. He didn't feel any different in some ways but the graph gave him a weird sense of being stolen bit by bit.
When the activities were over for the day he went up to the canteen for his now customary late lunch and ordered toasted ciabata with artichokes and sun dried tomatoes. Again the chef came up trumps but his appetite just wasn't there. The canteen had a few kids in lab coats but nobody he recognised and yet again the beautiful American apparition never re-appeared.
He ate with little enthusiasm and finished his fresh apple juice before leaving the building, on this occasion, without his usual loitering delay. As ever, Jim was waiting in the car park and as ever put down his paperback thriller as Frank arrived.
Jim sensed Frank was not on top form and drove silently out of the car park. After a few minutes Frank asked: "What do you think of this Nebus mob. Honestly, I'll not go telling tales.”
Jim thought for a moment before answering.
"I'll be honest. It's the best job I've had for ages. They pay well. The benefits are good and it's hardly a tough shift. Occasional early starts but the main problem is keeping busy. I read a book every two days during working hours and nobody minds. Everybody else I know working here enjoys it too. My nephew's the chef. Again, apart from preparing the meals in the canteen with no real budget control he is under-employed most of the time and is studying for a degree in English through the Open University. He has plenty of time between meals. Only gets disturbed when some smart ass orders something difficult. Says there's some bastard doing that at the moment in the afternoons which is upsetting his studies. Probably one of the Yanks; they're like that sometimes. But he says he'll give them some of his special sauce if they keep it up and they'll never eat there again."
Frank made a mental note to stick to the menu from now on and maybe eat at a different time for the rest of the remaining week.
"Overall though, they're good to work for. I've never had any problems. If you do your job and show up when you're meant to nobody gives you grief."
Frank just nodded and returned to his own thoughts. Bored and anxious to get hom
e as he was, he knew he was in the home straight now. Just like a long run or a big session in the gym, he had to just keep going and not look at the clock. It would all be over soon enough.
Back at the hotel he said goodbye to Jim after arranging a pick up time for the next day and headed for his room. He was bored and knew this was dangerous territory for a reformed alcoholic. After all, he was staying in a Hilton hotel with an American multinational picking up the tab. The bar and restaurant were open all day. Room service 24/7 for residents. The desire for a drink was almost overwhelming. It hadn't helped that the kids had made him take a drink as part of their testing and recording. He knew it was to try to initiate a specific response form him for them to record and turn another little bit of their graph green. This, it had achieved. But it had achieved something else in him too. He desperately wanted a drink. He had only drunk a half pint of beer but it was enough to give him a taste for it again. He now knew how a shark felt when it detected one part in a million of blood in the water. It wanted more blood. Lots of blood. A leg, an arm and all the blood inside them, and it wouldn't stop till it had had so much blood that it couldn't possibly manage another thing. Not even a wafer thin mint. Frank needed blood too or at least a bucketful of drink.
He fought it and fought it. Until the half pint of beer at Nebus, he had not touched a drink for the best part of ten years. But they had made him drink it. That smart little shit and all his smart little shitty pals just to see how he would react. That child doctor who had needled him about his wives and marriages and kids. Christ I should have knocked his fucking block off there and then. Well if they wanted him to have a drink and see what happened then he would keep them happy. He would have such a lot to drink at their expense that parts of the graph which didn't even exist would turn green when he was finished. Fuck it! I'm going to get hammered he decided and headed for the bar without having a shower.
