Catch Your Death. Mark Edwards

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СКАЧАТЬ or was it just her?

      Somehow she knew it was just her.

      ‘Right, let’s get your blood sample, so we can analyse it this afternoon.’

      He tied a length of black rubber tubing above her left elbow, gently holding her forearm and peering at the veins that sprang up thick and red. At his touch Kate’s skin broke out in goosepimples.

      ‘Now, this’ll just be a little prick – uh, I mean, a small scratch.’ Kate swallowed hard and looked over his shoulder, in order to stop a smirk escaping. His hands were shaking very slightly, but nonetheless Kate barely felt a thing as he slid the needle into her vein. They both watched in silence as the syringe filled with viscous dark blood.

      ‘All done,’ he said, expertly removing the needle, sealing the tube and labelling it, then sticking a tiny round plaster on the soft skin inside Kate’s elbow. ‘Since you aren’t yet in quarantine, you can go to the dining room for your supper at six. I think most of the others here are already quarantined, so you might be on your own. If you could read the instructions in that folder, that’ll explain the rules about contact with the other patients, and what you are and aren’t allowed to do if and when we give you a cold.’

      ‘If ?’

      ‘Yes – we don’t give a cold to everyone who comes here; you might be part of a control group. Oh, your room-mate should be along this afternoon too. You’ve got a lady called . . .’ He consulted his clipboard, ‘. . . Mrs Harrington. Georgina Harrington. She’s in her fifties so don’t go having any wild parties and keeping her up all night, will you?’

      Any disappointment that Kate might have felt about having a room-mate so much older than her was instantly diminished by the way he was smiling.

      ‘No wild parties?’ she queried, straight-faced. ‘But what on earth will I do to stop myself getting bored while I’m here?’ He slowly reached out and touched the back of her hand with his forefinger.

      ‘I can promise you won’t get bored. At least not on my shifts, anyway.’

      After he’d gone, Kate lay back on her bed replaying the entire meeting in her mind, a huge smile spread over her face. She couldn’t believe what he’d said to her – nor what she’d said to him. It wasn’t at all like her to be so forward and flirty. There was just something about Stephen Wilson and his blond floppy hair and the way he looked at her with those big brown eyes . . .

      She changed her mind about going for a walk, and retreated into the bathroom again, this time to pluck her bikini line and shave her legs. She hadn’t expected she’d need to do this – but she now had the distinct feeling it might be necessary. Pity she’d have to share with this Georgina woman. Although maybe Stephen had his own room where they could . . .

      . . . No, stop it, Kate told herself. He’s the doctor! Probably nothing’s going to happen.

      But somehow she knew that it would. ‘No, I don’t think I am going to be at all bored,’ she said out loud.

       Chapter 10

      The effort of telling the story had taken its toll on her. Kate tried to bite down on her yawn but it escaped, and then Paul yawned too, and they looked at each other and laughed.

      ‘I think I need my bed,’ she said.

      ‘Me too.’

      As they stood up Paul turned to put his jacket on, and when he turned back he caught her eye. Something passed between them. Or was she imagining it? The tiredness that made her body feel strange, the state of the high emotion she was in, the mention of bed, and the undeniable fact that this man looked almost exactly like Stephen – it was a dangerous mix. She averted her eyes and concentrated on lifting Jack – god, he was getting heavy – hoping she hadn’t flushed pink the way she knew she did, and, if she had, hoping Paul hadn’t noticed.

      When she looked more closely at him, she could tell they hadn’t been absolutely identical. She was sure that Paul was slightly taller and bulkier, and he had a tiny chip at the side of his front tooth . . . although what did their similarities or differences matter anyway? The point was, he wasn’t Stephen. It would feel like a betrayal to get involved with his brother – wouldn’t it? Not that Paul would be interested in her, she felt sure. He would undoubtedly see it as a betrayal too. He could be married himself, for all she knew. Although he hadn’t mentioned it, and he wasn’t wearing a ring . . . She wanted to slap herself. Kate, what the hell are you thinking? This is the last thing you need now.

      ‘Let’s meet here tomorrow morning,’ Paul said. ‘Nine o’clock?’

      ‘Make it nine-thirty.’

      ‘Okay.’

      He hovered. What was he doing? She had this awful feeling he was trying to decide whether to kiss her goodnight.

      ‘Night, Paul,’ she said.

      ‘Okay. Night.’

      She watched him walk across the lobby. At the revolving doors he looked back at her and nodded. A little shiver went through her.

      After putting Jack to bed – he hadn’t stirred all the way from the lounge to the room; again, she had paranoid thoughts about being a bad mother because he hadn’t cleaned his teeth or washed his face – Kate lay down and tried to join him in sleep. But her brain was too active and her heart refused to slow down. She got up, fetched herself a glass of water and went out onto the balcony. Her room had a view of the river, the lights of the South Bank shimmering orange and lemon on the water. Voices floated up to her: a man shouting, a woman laughing. A plane drifted in the space between clouds.

      Her life was in a mess. Her marriage was over, she had no home or job, and probably no friends any more. The only people she had were Aunt Lil, who barely recognised her, and her sister Miranda and her family.

      When she’d boarded the plane in Boston she’d experienced the intoxicating thrill of new-found freedom, a euphoria that had made her want to stand up in her seat and scream with joy. But like a prisoner who busts out of jail after years inside, the euphoria didn’t last long. The outside world was a scary place.

      But even though a primitive part of her – the part that longed for safety and comfort – wanted to flee back to the States, she knew she had done the right thing. She would get through this period.

      If Vernon doesn’t find you, an internal voice whispered.

      No, he wouldn’t find her. And if he did, what could he do?

      He’ll say you’ve kidnapped your own son. He’s always threatened that he’d hunt you down if you ever tried to take him away. He’ll take Jack back. You’ll lose him.

      No! That couldn’t happen. She had brought Jack to England for his own good. It was the right thing to do. And she was English – the law would protect her here, wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t let Vernon take her son away from her, would they?

      Kate thought back to how powerful her initial attraction to Vernon had been, and how unbelievable it seemed to her now that she could ever have felt that way about him.

      He had never been a particularly good-looking man, but he was possessed of that magical СКАЧАТЬ