by Anne Fraser
Although she was disappointed he was going, the care he took of his patients was one of the things she liked about him. Besides, she wanted to do some checking up of her own.
She hurried back to her house. It was after six in the UK but Tim was divorced and rarely left work until much later.
She dialled the number of the office and was pleased when he picked up straight away. After exchanging small talk for a few moments—yes, she was enjoying her break and, yes, she would be coming back to work as planned at the end of September—she repeated what Alexander had told her.
‘I’ve got a feeling about this,’ she said. ‘Is there any chance you could speak to your opposite number in Athens and ask him if there have been any more cases reported? I realise I’m probably being over-cautious but it wouldn’t hurt to find out.’
‘I doubt there will be anyone still there at this time. Will the morning do?’
‘It will have to. As I said, it’s probably nothing but it’s best to be on the safe side. Thanks, Tim.’
He called her back on her mobile just before nine the next morning and came straight to the point.
‘You were right,’ he said. ‘I’ve spoken to my opposite number in Athens and he tells me there have been reports of ten cases in and around the southern Peloponnese, including the two you mentioned. One or two would mean nothing but ten! It certainly suggests there is something to be concerned about.’
Excitement surged through Katherine. Her instinct had been right! ‘What ages?’
‘It varies. From teenagers to young adults. As you’d expect, it is the youngest who are most seriously affected. One child—a lad of seventeen—is in Intensive Care in Athens and it’s not looking good.’
‘The boy in Intensive Care—what’s his name?’
‘David Panagaris.’
Was he the same lad Alexander had told her about? It seemed likely. Her heart was racing. This is what she was trained to do. ‘I could look into it. Could you let the department in Athens know I’m here and would like to help?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Tim protested. ‘You’re on holiday. They must have someone local they can call on. It’s not as if Greece doesn’t have public health doctors of their own.’
‘Of course they do, but I happen to be here and I’m an expert in the spread of infectious diseases. I’m probably the most up-to-date person in Europe at the moment and you and I both know it’s all much more co-operative now than it used to be. Come on, Tim, you know it makes sense.’
There was a long pause at the end of the phone. ‘I guess it does makes sense,’ Tim said reluctantly. ‘But is your Greek good enough to ensure you ask the right questions and, more importantly, get the right answers?’
It wasn’t. But Alexander’s was. ‘What about the Greek doctor I mentioned? The one who alerted me to the possibility of an outbreak? If he’s prepared to take time out to help me, that would solve the problem of my not being fluent in Greek.’ She wasn’t really sure she wanted to work with Alexander. It was bad enough catching tantalising glimpses of him most days, without being thrust into his company all the time. But she wanted to do this and she couldn’t without Alexander’s help. ‘I’ll need to ask him, of course, but I’ve no doubt he’ll say yes.’
‘Okay,’ Tim conceded. ‘I’ll suggest it to my colleague.’ Katherine released a breath. ‘What more info do you have?’
‘In addition to the boy admitted to Intensive Care in Athens, there have been two deaths over the last ten days—your man and a woman tourist from France in her teens. Her family have already repatriated her body. No obvious links between the deceased as yet.’
Her excitement drained away. Three families had lost a loved one or were in danger of doing so. And if there was an epidemic, and there seemed little doubt that was what they could be dealing with, if they didn’t locate all those who had come into contact with the sufferers and treat them, more people could die. In addition, they needed to find out where it was coming from so they could reach people before they became unwell.
‘Could you give me the names and addresses of the patients? Plus the names of their family doctors, or the doctors who treated them?’
‘I’ll email them to you straight away.’
As soon as she disconnected, she phoned Alexander’s surgery only to discover he wasn’t expected in until later. She flung on some clothes and, without stopping for breakfast, set off across the square to Alexander’s home, praying he’d be there and not out on a visit.
The sun was already blazing down and she was perspiring by the time she reached his door. She found Grandmother in the kitchen, making bread.
‘Morning,’ Katherine said in Greek. ‘I need to speak to Alexander. Is he here?’ She didn’t have time for the usual pleasantries today.
Alexander’s grandmother frowned, wiped her hands on a tea towel and shook her head. ‘Nè. At work.’
‘Hello.’ It was Crystal, looking sleepy in pyjamas and holding a teddy bear. She said something to her grandmother in Greek and went to stand next to Katherine, slipping her hand into hers. ‘Yia-Yia says you’re looking for Baba. She says he’s gone to his consulting room in the village.’ Grandmother had lifted a pot of tea and was holding it up. ‘She wants to know if you’d like some tea. And some breakfast? She’s just made some.’
‘Please thank her for me and say I’d love to stay but I really need to see your father. It’s urgent.’
The child relayed it back to to her grandmother, who looked disappointed she’d have no one to feed.
‘Is something the matter?’ Crystal asked.
‘No.’ Katherine crouched down and ruffled Crystal’s hair. ‘At least, nothing for you to worry about. I promise.’
Leaving the house, she headed back down the flight of steps and along the street to the rooms Alexander used as a surgery for the locals.
She tapped on the door of Alex’s room and, without waiting for a reply, let herself in. He was sitting at the desk, his chair turned to face the window so that he had his back to her. He swivelled around to face her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘This isn’t a good time.’
‘I heard,’ she said softly.
He frowned. ‘Heard what?’
‘About David Panagaris, that is the name of your colleague’s patient, isn’t it?’ When Alexander nodded, she continued. ‘I thought it must be him. I gather he’s in Intensive Care. I’m sorry.’ Without waiting to be asked, she took the seat opposite him.
‘Poor bloody parents. Perhaps if they’d brought him in sooner—’ He broke off. ‘How did you know he’d deteriorated? He was only admitted to Intensive Care last night.’
‘My boss phoned me—I phoned him first. Let me explain.’
Alexander said nothing but leaned forward, placing his folded hands on the desk. He looked even more bushed than he had yesterday. There were dark circles under his eyes and underneath the tan he was drawn and pale. She wondered if he’d been up all night.
‘As you know, my thesis for my doctorate is on meningitis and other bacterial infections—its spread and containment. That sort of thing. Our unit is one of the biggest in Europe but we have strong ties with others units across the world. We share information on all matters of public health, especially on infectious diseases. Over the last few years increasing numbers of countries across the world have bought into this collaborative approach. It makes sense to pool our resources rather than compete with one another. Africa, for example, has much better information on the spread of malaria, and so on...’
He nodded impatiently.
‘When you told me about your cases it rang alarm bells so I phoned my boss and asked him to contact the public health department in Athens. Apparently, apart from Stéfan and David, there have been eight other cases all in, or around, this area, including another death
—a young French girl’ She held out her phone. ‘My boss has emailed me a list with all their names.’
‘Eight other cases?’ Alexander looked instantly alert, all traces of his earlier tiredness having disappeared. ‘So there is an epidemic?’
‘It appears so. The thing is, I’ve offered to take the lead in looking into the situation. But I’m going to need help. My Greek isn’t good enough for me to do it on my own.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘You want me to help?’
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
‘Of course,’ he said with no hesitation. ‘I’ll need to arrange for Dr Kanavakis—my retired colleague—to cover for me, but I don’t think that will be a problem. When do we start?’
‘Now.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Let me make that phone call, then.’
When he’d finished he turned back to Katherine. ‘Cover’s sorted. Now, what else do you know about the cases?’
‘Very little. I have the names and addresses of all the patients. Most live in the southern part of Greece. Two come from Nafplio or very nearby. The French girl was on holiday there.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Hell, that isn’t good. A lot of cruise ships come into Nafplio. That will make tracing contacts more difficult.’
She checked the names on her phone. While Alexander had been on the phone she’d downloaded them into a document. ‘What else can you tell me about David?’
‘His parents live in a village close to Messini. He’d been snuffly and lethargic for most of the morning. They thought it was a cold, but when he deteriorated they brought him in to see my colleague. Unfortunately, he was already showing signs of septicaemia. He was given intravenous antibiotics and they arranged for an immediate transfer to hospital, but he was already in a bad way.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘He’s only young.’
He jumped up and started pacing. ‘If we do have an epidemic on our hands, none of the children will be safe.’ He stopped in front of her. ‘Come on. Let’s go to the hospital. I’ll let his doctor know what’s happening. We need to find where the victims have been and who they’ve been in contact with.’ He paused. ‘Unless we should split up? You go to see the relatives of the other cases while I go to the hospital?’
‘No,’ she said, putting her hand on his arm. ‘As I said, I might be the expert and know the questions to ask, but you can speak Greek and you’re a local doctor. They’ll find it more comfortable to talk to you and they might tell you things they wouldn’t tell me. You’ll also be able to pick up better than I if they are leaving out information that might be important. But what we should do is make sure the health services in Athens have put all the local family practices on alert, as well as warning the general public. Doctors and parents are more likely to be vigilant if they know what to look out for.’
‘I’ll speak to them, of course. What is the name of your contact there?’
Even before he put the phone down she could see the conversation hadn’t gone the way he wanted. His voice had risen towards the end and he appeared to be arguing with whoever was on the other end. A muscle twitched in his cheek.
‘They say they’ve warned the hospitals and practices to watch out for cases of meningitis but they won’t put out a full alert on the radio or in the press. They say that if they do, people will panic and rush to the hospitals. They say the medical services will collapse under the strain and it’s too early to take the risk.’
‘I could phone my boss and get him to put pressure on them,’ Katherine suggested. ‘Although I suspect they’d do the same in the UK.’
‘Be my guest.’ He gestured to the phone. ‘I doubt it would do any good. They’re unlikely to do anything more until there are more cases. They insist the ones we know about might just be random at the moment—a blip, not connected at all.’
‘It is possible,’ Katherine said thoughtfully. ‘We’ve noted and recorded many cases of infectious diseases in the past that seemed to be part of an epidemic but that turned out not to be. I think we should talk to the Stéfan’s parents before we do anything else. As soon as I get the French girl’s parents’ contact details I’ll call them.’
‘Fine with me,’ he said, picking up his medical bag. ‘And I hope to God you’re right about these cases not being connected. Stéfan’s family is from a village near Sparta. We could go to the hospital in Athens from there.’ He took his mobile from his pocket. ‘I’ll phone Carlos and let him know what’s happening.’
* * *
The road leading to Sparta was the worst Katherine had ever been on. Travelling through and over the mountains, it was narrow, with barely enough room for two cars to pass safely. In addition, every few miles the road almost spun back on itself through a number of hairpin bends. She could barely bring herself to look. On her side of the car, the road fell away sharply and there were no road barriers to prevent the car, should it have to swerve to avoid oncoming vehicles, toppling over the side. Incredibly, the road conditions didn’t stop drivers from overtaking, whether they could see or not.
‘What’s Crystal up to today?’ she asked, trying to unclench her fists.
‘She’s having a sleepover with a friend a little way up the coast. Her friend’s mother is coming to fetch her.’
‘Could you slow down?’ Katherine yelped, after they took a particularly sharp bend that she’d thought they’d never make.
Alexander turned to face her and grinned.
‘If I slow down, it will only encourage other drivers to try and overtake us. They don’t care whether the road is empty or not.’
‘Please keep your eyes on the road at least.’
Despite her terror and worry about what they would be facing soon, she couldn’t help admire the scenery as they whizzed along. Little villages clung to the side of the mountain, the houses often appearing to spill almost onto the road. Small cafés with old men outside, puffing on pipes or playing board games flew by in a blur. To her consternation, Alexander would often take his hand off the steering-wheel to give them a friendly wave as they passed.
At other times, almost out of nowhere, they’d come upon small farm stalls selling flowers or tomatoes or other freshly grown produce from the roadside. At any other time she might have enjoyed the trip and promised herself that once this emergency was over she’d come back—with her own car, of course—and savour the journey.
As she relaxed a little, her thoughts returned to the task in hand. She unfolded the map she’d brought with her and circled each victim’s location with her pen. All of them lived in the Peloponnese, apart from the French girl, who had been on holiday there. Nevertheless, it was still a huge area.
‘Is there any facility or event you know of that links the victims?’ she asked Alexander.
He waited until he’d slowed down to let an overtaking car coming in the opposite direction pass before he spoke. ‘None that I can think of. I’d have to study the map. I don’t really keep on top of social events these days.’
A short time later, to Katherine’s relief, they turned off the mountain road and towards Sparta and the road became wider and straighter.
‘The village is about thirty kilometres northwest of Sparta,’ Alexander said. ‘We should be there in about twenty minutes.’
Katherine’s stomach churned. In a short while she’d be facing two very recently bereaved parents and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
‘What’s Sparta like?’ she asked, more to distract herself than out of any burning interest.
‘Little of the original city remains. Most of the what you’ll see as we pass through has been built on top of ancient Sparta.’ He glanced at her. ‘You know the stories of the Spartans?’
‘Only that they were tough and didn’t believe in creature comforts.’
‘It’s grimmer than that. Under a system k
nown as the agoge Spartan boys were trained to be as physically tough as possible. They were taken from their families at the age of seven and made to live in barracks. They were deliberately underfed so they’d become adept at living off the land. The boy babies who weren’t expected to make the grade were taken to the top of the mountain and left there to die.’
Katherine shuddered. ‘Their poor mothers.’
‘It was cruel. I can’t imagine how they felt, having their sons ripped from their arms. I suspect some ran away with them, even though they risked death to save them.’ He blinked. ‘It’s what Sophia would have done. She’d never let anything part her from her child.’
Katherine’s heart lurched. What would he think if he knew what she’d done? She was glad he would never know.
‘You should try to visit Mycenae, though,’ he continued, apparently unaware of her reaction. ‘It’s almost intact. It’s very close to Sparta—only a few kilometres at the most. It has a less bloody past.’
‘Have you been there?’ Her throat was so tight she could barely speak.
He glanced at her and smiled. ‘Naturally.’
They turned off onto a minor road and continued. It was much flatter here, the land planted with olive trees and vines. But then they turned a corner, drove up a street so narrow it would be impossible for another car to pass, and into a small village square.
Now they were here, her anxiety about facing the bereaved parents returned.
‘Are you all right about doing this?’ Alexander asked.
‘Yes.’ She would be. She had to think of the children whose lives they would save rather than the one who was lost.
They parked the car and asked directions from an older man sweeping the square. He laid aside his brush and gestured for them to follow him. It was just as well because although the village was small, it was unlikely they would have found their way to the house, tucked away as it was behind a crumbling wall and almost hidden down one of the maze-like streets.
