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Authors: Ken McClure

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Gavin felt apprehensive as he got off the bus and walked towards Frank’s house. He felt angry about Frank running off to Australia, but on the other hand he understood how he must be feeling after all that had happened. He liked Frank, and he thought that Frank had come to like him, but he knew their relationship hadn’t
developed
to a point where they could put all their cards on the table and say exactly what they were feeling. He saw the visit as an exercise in damage limitation. He had his laptop in his rucksack and the three copies of the paper. If all went well and Frank didn’t insist on the paper being submitted to some journal other than
Nature
– and he couldn’t see why he should, because this was groundbreaking science – he could have everything in the post by that evening. That would be such a good feeling, and if the paper was accepted – which was a much bigger ‘if’ with the experiments not having been duplicated, but still very possible because of the importance of the subject matter – his worries about his doctorate and future career prospects could well be over. He would be out of reach of the Sutcliffes of this world.

Frank opened the door and invited him in, saying that Jenny was at work at the surgery. ‘Coffee?’

‘Thanks. How are you feeling?’ asked Gavin, as he took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Simmons, filling two mugs from a coffee flask. He plonked them down on the table and pushed sugar and milk towards Gavin. ‘A bit numb, I suppose. One minute I have a lab and a research group, the next minute I don’t. I’ve got nothing.’

Gavin gave a nod but did not speak.

‘I keep seeing the look on Mary’s parents’ faces when they saw her lying there. As for Tom’s parents and what they must be going through …’

‘Maybe the least said the better,’ said Gavin, with a hardness that Simmons picked up on. ‘Of course, he meant it for you,’ he said. ‘It’s all such a mess …’

‘I hear you’re off to Australia?’

Simmons nodded, becoming aware of Gavin’s level gaze, and breaking off eye contact to concentrate on stirring his coffee. ‘Jenny has relatives there. Give me a chance to recharge the batteries, that sort of thing.’

‘Professor Sutcliffe wouldn’t allow me to finish off the Valdevan experiments. He’s offered me a change of project.’

Simmons looked down at the table surface. ‘Look, Gavin, I’m sorry.’

Gavin felt anger rise up in him but he kept it in check. ‘There’s still a chance we can get the stuff published without the extra
insurance
of duplicate results,’ he said, opening his rucksack and
bringing
out the paper. ‘I’ve written it up for
Nature
but I could change it if you really wanted.’ He pushed it towards Simmons, who said quietly, ‘
Nature’s
fine … exactly where it should be.’

‘Then all we need is a covering letter signed by you,’ said Gavin, feeling relieved that a big hurdle had been crossed.

‘Not possible,’ said Simmons.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘In effect … I’ve relinquished my position in the department for the six-month period of my … sabbatical. My grants have been suspended, and so have all my other duties and responsibilities. I no longer have the authority to write such a letter.’

‘You’re kidding,’ said Gavin.

‘’Fraid not.’

‘So what happens to the Valdevan work?’

Simmons shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Who knows? Maybe in six months, attitudes will have changed …’

‘Yeah, right, Frank,’ said Gavin angrily, as latent suspicion rose up inside him. ‘Or should I say,
Professor
Simmons. Word gets around …’

‘No, it was nothing like that,’ insisted Simmons, as Gavin got up to repack his rucksack.

‘Yeah, right.’ Gavin slung his pack over his shoulder and made to leave.

‘Wait, come back,’ said Simmons as Gavin reached the door.

Gavin turned but remained standing defiantly at the door.

‘You’re not the only one who got mugged.’

Gavin relaxed his grip on the door handle.

‘And not all muggers come from dark alleys,’ said Simmons.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘The night Tom died I was summoned to Old College and given a choice,’ said Simmons. ‘I could either do what I’ve ended up doing, and temporarily relinquish my position, take a six-month break on full pay, and then return to my job to rebuild my career or … they would instigate disciplinary proceedings against me and suspend me from my position pending an investigation. Either way, I was out of the department.’

‘Disciplinary proceedings for what?’ asked Gavin.

‘What I said at the meeting. Apparently it is a serious matter to subject a senior member of the university to sustained verbal abuse.’

‘Christ,’ said Gavin. ‘Where did they dig that one up from?’

‘No prizes for guessing what the outcome of such an
investigation
would be … they wouldn’t exactly be short of witnesses: the whole department heard. I have a wife, two children and a mortgage. What do you think you would have done in the circumstances?’

Gavin gave a resigned nod. The bottom had just fallen out of his world, and he felt hollow inside. He found it impossible to sustain any one emotion for any length of time. Anger quickly changed to understanding, understanding to pity, pity to suspicion, and back to anger again. ‘Enjoy Australia, Frank,’ he said, as he turned and left.

Simmons, still sitting at the table, held his head in his hands. Was there to be no end to this nightmare? He was just trying to do what was right and yet … it all felt so bloody wrong. After a few moments he had the feeling he wasn’t alone, and looked up to see Jenny standing there.

‘I came in the back door. I heard what you said.’

Simmons tried to decipher her expression, but found it
uncomfortably
neutral.

 

Caroline was pleased with the way things had been going. She had explained the rationale behind the dual drug therapy to her
mother
, and made sure that she appreciated that she would not notice any change in her condition until the second drug came into play after the fourteenth day of Valdevan. This meant that everything was on hold for two weeks, but happily this included her mother’s new-found optimism, which Caroline was hoping her father would ascribe to another remission. It was all to come unstuck, however, on the thirteenth day, when Dr John James came into the bedroom and found Caroline giving her mother an injection.

‘Amazing, only two patients at evening surgery,’ he began. ‘Must be something good on the telly … What are you doing?’

Caroline felt the blood drain from her face.

‘She’s giving me some vitamins,’ said her mother, her voice sounding strained and tight.

‘Vitamins? What on earth for?’ John James strode across the room and looked at the box of vials at Caroline’s side. He snatched up one. ‘Valdevan!’ he exclaimed. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, giving your mother this?’

Caroline had never seen her father so angry. ‘We have to talk, Dad.’

‘She’s helping me,’ pleaded her mother, becoming upset.

Although furious, John James could see the effect arguing was going to have on his wife, and fought to control himself. ‘We seem to be at cross-purposes here,’ he said. ‘Caroline’s right, my dear; she and I have to talk.’

Caroline and her father went through to his consulting room, where his anger reignited and he hissed, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, giving your mother that stuff? A useless drug, taken off the market years ago. Do you realise what upsetting the delicate balance of her chemotherapy could do to her?’

‘Mum’s dying, Dad. No
delicate balance of her chemotherapy
is going to change that, and you’re jumping to conclusions. I’m not doing what you think I’m doing.’

‘I demand an explanation.’

Caroline gave her father a brief synopsis of Gavin’s research and admitted that she had persuaded him to let her try it out on her mother. ‘The results in the lab were spectacular, Dad, really amazing.’

‘So good you are using your own mother as a guinea pig!’

‘There’s a real chance it will work, and that has to be better than no chance at all, don’t you think?’

‘If there was any chance this nonsense would work it would be all over the medical journals. This is just cruel, heartless rubbish that has given your mother false hope. How could you?’

‘You don’t understand, Dad. Believe me, you don’t understand the half of it,’ pleaded Caroline.

‘I’ve a good mind to report you and this damned boyfriend of yours to the relevant authorities, and let you both take the
consequences
. Who is his head of department?’

‘Mum asked me to help her …’

‘Don’t pretend your mother forced you into this.’

‘You don’t understand. She asked me to help her die.’

There was a silence in the room that both of them found almost unbearable.

‘I don’t believe you,’ said John James hoarsely.

‘She asked me to help her because she felt she couldn’t ask you …’ said Caroline flatly, knowing the hurt she was causing, but feeling that she had to fight back. ‘She knew you wouldn’t consider it because it
isn’t
allowed
.’ She paused to let the words and the cruel inflection she’d put on them sink in. ‘I thought that persuading Gavin to try out the new therapy would be a better option because … I couldn’t face doing what she wanted me to, and when all’s said and done … Mum has nothing to lose, has she?’

John James’ anger disappeared, and tears started to run down his cheeks. Caroline wanted to put her arms round him but found she couldn’t.

‘What stage are you at?’ croaked James.

‘We’re about to start the second drug tomorrow. She’s already had fourteen days on Valdevan …’

‘I didn’t realise your mother felt like that. She never said
anything
to me … nothing at all.’

‘Mum knows you love her and would always do your best for her, Dad. There’s no question about that. I just hope that you might come to realise that the same applies to me …’

Both Caroline and her father were in tears as they embraced each other.

‘Well, where do we go from here?’ asked Caroline, wiping her eyes and giving a final sniff as a sign that she was back in control.

‘We go back and tell your mother how much we both love her, and that you will be carrying on with the new therapy. To do
anything
else at this stage would be unthinkable.’ John James seemed to take a few moments to consider before saying, ‘Damn this bloody awful disease. Damn it to hell.’

‘Let’s tell Mum.’

John James paused as they reached the door. ‘This Gavin of yours, he sounds like a remarkable chap.’

‘I think so.’

‘The university must be very proud. You must tell me all about him.’

‘Later, Dad.’

 

Caroline heard the sharp intake of breath when she told Gavin that her dad had found out what they were doing. ‘But it’s all right. We had a long heart-to-heart and it’s all right, really it is.’

‘If you say so,’ said Gavin, finding this hard to believe, but keen to latch on to any good news that was going.

‘I’m going to go ahead with the change of drug tomorrow as planned. She’s due a scan at the hospital in four days time, on
Friday
. What should we do about that?’

‘Let it go ahead.’

‘Do you think there will be any change by then?’

‘If it works, there should be a dramatic change. If it doesn’t, then nothing.’

‘No in-betweens?’

‘No.’

‘Sounds like Friday’s going to be a pretty big day for all of us.’

‘Yep.’

‘You sound low. Did you sort things out with Frank?’

‘Frank doesn’t have the authority to endorse the paper. He’s given up his position.’

‘Why?’ asked a stunned Caroline.

‘Because the suits blackmailed him into it.’

‘Gavin, I’m so sorry.’

‘I’ll think of something.’

 
BOOK: Hypocrite's Isle
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