The Uninvited (17 page)
‘When the hell can I get you to call me Victor?’ That familiar cracked and reedy voice makes something swarm in my chest. ‘I know you’re not a hugger.’ He spreads his arms wide in a gesture of embrace. ‘So consider this poor substitute a lucky escape.’
‘Good to see you, Professor.’ I make the hugging gesture back – Stephanie has to duck – and he laughs. I am happy. It’s a clean and fine feeling.
‘Hello, Professor. I’m Stephanie Mulligan.’ She raises her hand. ‘Also from Phipps & Wexman.’
‘Good to meet you,’ he says, smiling. ‘Ashok Sharma told me about you. You’ll both be working with me from now on, if you’re agreeable.’
Both? Why both?
‘On the single pandemic theory?’ asks Stephanie. ‘Hesketh mentioned it.’
‘Yes, I thought he’d get there,’ he says, smiling. Naomi pulls up a chair for the professor and he settles next to her with a sideways smile. He is what the French call
bien dans sa peau
: at ease with himself. Or literally, ‘good in his skin’. Often he used to drape his arm over my shoulder and call me ‘son’. He made me feel
bien dans ma peau
too.
‘So let’s get started. Children and adults wreaking havoc in a dissociative state. Different methods, same result: sabotage. Family and wider social structures in one case, economic in the other. Hesketh, what do you observe in the adults?’
Still watching the red-clad children milling about in the background, I give Professor Whybray and Naomi Benjamin a brief summary of my three investigations. When I mention the salt, Professor Whybray’s eyebrows go up.
‘Well here’s what I can tell you about the salt from our end. Worldwide, we know of a hundred and twenty-five confirmed cases of children who’ve attacked and who have a salt craving.’
Stephanie asks, ‘What form does it take?’
‘All kids go for sugar and salt,’ says Naomi. ‘It’s fundamental. But we’re talking high excesses of whatever they can get hold of. Crisps, salted popcorn, peanuts, the usual snack food. In coastal areas we hear they’re eating seaweed.’
‘Jonas Svensson collected seaweed,’ I say. ‘And drank seawater. He also had a food stockpile.’
‘In some kids it was apparent for weeks before they attacked,’ Naomi continues. ‘And parents are reporting finding food-hoards and salt-stashes in their kids’ bedrooms.’
‘When it comes to the violence there’s a memory blank in most cases. But interestingly, when they learn what they did, they seem indifferent. Possibly a shock reaction. Later they become hostile towards adults. Or just contemptuous. The families claim they don’t recognise them. Some say it’s not the real version of their child.’
‘Changelings,’ I say. ‘Alien possession. Exchange for a replica. A very common explanation for uncharacteristic behaviours.’
‘Superstition was part of Hesketh’s field,’ Professor Whybray tells Naomi. ‘Before he moved to the dark side.’ Just then a door opens behind them and a narrow-faced young man with a ponytail walks in.
Naomi swivels in her chair to address him. ‘Hi, Flynn, what’s up?’
‘Sorry to interrupt you guys,’ he says, addressing us. ‘But I’m going to have to drag Naomi away. We have a situation.’
‘Off you go, Naomi,’ says Professor Whybray. ‘I’ll fill them in on the rest.’
When she and Flynn have left I ask Professor Whybray, ‘Could it be the excess salt consumption that’s making them behave like this?’
‘That’s the first thing we addressed in terms of treatment. At the Unit we’ve eliminated it from their diet completely. No impact so far. We can’t police their homes, and some’s being smuggled in. We’re seeing some very odd behaviours. Which are changing by the day. Hard to keep up.’ He angles the screen so that we get a better view of the children in the playground behind him. ‘So. Tell me what you observe.’
‘Unusual patterns of movement. It looks co-ordinated by instinct. Like birds, or the shoaling of fish.’
Stephanie points to the top of the screen. ‘I can see some fighting over there.’
A blonde girl and a black boy are tussling in the background. The boy is wearing swimming goggles.
‘So who’ll win?’ asks Professor Whybray.
‘The girl,’ I say. ‘If she’s blue-eyed.’As if in confirmation, the girl wrestles the boy to the ground, tears off his goggles and runs away. Stephanie glances at me questioningly. ‘Jonas Svensson wore dark glasses,’ I explain. ‘He was blue-eyed. He had an eye infection. The fact that many of these kids are wearing sunglasses or eye goggles tells me they’re either protecting their eyes from sunlight, or hiding signs of infection. Since children don’t tend to be vain, I suspect the former is more likely. And pale irises need more protection than dark ones. Any deaths yet?’ I ask. I am thinking of the autopsies.
‘Still waiting.’
I tell him about Jonas Svensson’s renal anomaly.
‘In normal circumstances I’d call it a long shot,’ says Professor Whybray. ‘But given what’s going on . . .’When he frowns you can see the furrows. ‘The whole thing’s unprecedented. Anyway, I’m glad to see you’ve kept your edge, Hesketh. I’m looking forward to working with you again. And you too of course, Stephanie. Ashok praises you highly.’
We start discussing arrangements. Today is Sunday. Our flights are open. I agree to meet Professor Whybray and his team at nine o’clock on Thursday. Stephanie will join us if she is back from Dubai by then. Before that, I’ll find a moment to tell the Professor I can’t work with Stephanie ‘for personal reasons’. And he’ll agree to this because it’s me he wants. I am confident about this. We say goodbye and Stephanie presses End Call.
She takes a sip of her drink. ‘I’m glad we got the contract. Though it’s not a classic Phipps & Wexman case.’
‘Yes it is. Ashok’s a disaster capitalist. He follows the money.’ I finish my drink in one gulp, and signal to the waiter for the bill. I stand up.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To do some research and make notes for Professor Whybray.’
‘Wait, Hesketh. If this thing continues to spread, there’s a lot at stake here and we’ll need to collaborate. So we have to clear the air on the personal front.’
I sit down opposite her and reach for a napkin. ‘Five minutes. Starting now.’ I point at my watch. I begin folding an
ozuru.
The material is thin, but not ideal.
‘Hesketh?’ Her hand is on my arm.
I shake it off. ‘Don’t touch me!’ It comes out louder than I intend. The waiter has been approaching: now he backs off.
‘OK. OK. Please Hesketh.’ Stephanie is aiming for eye contact but she won’t get it. Kaitlin likes direct people. She admires them and says they have ‘guts’. I like direct people too, but only if they are children. ‘We need to have a conversation about Kaitlin.’
Kaitlin Kalifakidis. The woman who Stephanie drove crazy with love and lust. The woman who told me lie after lie after lie, and turned me into two ugly birds, a cockerel and a cuckoo. At the Phipps & Wexman reception I saw them talking and laughing together, but failed to identify their sudden, intense camaraderie as courtship behaviour. I hadn’t even known that Stephanie was a lesbian. Or that Kaitlin was, to use her repellent expression, ‘bi-curious’.
I say, ‘No. There’s nothing we need to discuss. It’s in the past.’
The best man won!
said Sunny Chen, the day he burned his Hell-note effigy. But no one won. It was all wreckage.
She shifts. ‘But that’s the thing, Hesketh. That’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you. It’s not.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Kaitlin and I are back together. I’ve moved in.’
I say, ‘Oh.’
She fingers the spiked shards on her necklace. It’s still mesmerising me. The material isn’t plastic. And it’s certainly not mineral. But it has the sheen of a polymer . Varnish, maybe. It might be more lightweight than it looks.
‘When?’
‘Two weeks ago. Perhaps I should have told you earlier.’
I complete my
ozuru
and stand it on the table between us. It observes her with its head cocked slightly to one side.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Now is fine. Now is quite early enough.’
The waiter slides the bill on to the table, then melts away. She speaks quietly. ‘You know there was something between us before. Well. We began seeing each other again. She rang me when you split up.’
I’m overloaded. I stand and pick up my briefcase. The whisky has gone to my head. I need to get out of here. Breathe some outdoor air.
‘Hesketh, stay!’ she calls after me. But I can’t.
Men generally find the idea of two women together sexually exciting. This is well documented. The fact that I was no exception only deepened the horror.
There. It is said.
The pool is a relief. They put ice cubes in the water to cool it down. That’s what the attendant told me yesterday. I swim crawl, sloshing the water over the edges, which are flush with the sides. It disappears noisily down sunken runnels. I forget myself. I forget everything except the intense pummelling of my muscles.
I’ve done fifty-three lengths, almost the equivalent of 0.75 kilometres, when a thought strikes me. It should have come to me before. But I was too busy reliving my cuckoldry to see Stephanie’s revelation as an opportunity.
Now that I do, I must act immediately.
I get out and dress hastily. Five minutes later I’m banging on her door. There’s a tray on the floor outside. She must have ordered room service. I have read that women often do that in hotels on business trips because they feel self-conscious eating alone in restaurants. It’s half past nine. I bang harder.
‘Open up!’
She opens the door a crack, leaving the chain on. ‘Oh. It’s you.’
She lets me in. Next to the bed is a photo of Kaitlin with Freddy. It looks recent. I haven’t seen it before. It fills me with rage. She stole my family.
She looks nervous, as though I might have come to rape her. Women on business trips worry about that too, according to the same article. It contained a list of Dos and Don’ts While Travelling. Opening the door to me would have counted as a Don’t.
‘How can I help you?’ Her voice is very cold.
I go over to the big picture window and turn to face her. My hair is dripping: I can feel the water running down my neck, chilled unpleasantly by the air conditioning.
‘I want to see Freddy. You can make that happen. Kaitlin’s wrong to stop me seeing him. I was a father to him.’
‘Why don’t you sit?’ She indicates an armchair, but I stay where I am. ‘Look, Hesketh. I know what you mean to Freddy. He talks about you a lot. He misses you.’
‘So you admit that much.’
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’
‘So admit that it’s wrong.’
She takes a breath. ‘Actually I think it is. Wrong.’
‘What?’ She waves again at the armchair, but I stay standing. ‘You think it’s wrong? You admit it?’
‘Yes. You heard me. And you might have heard me say it earlier if you hadn’t stormed off.’
‘So why can’t I see Freddy?’
She shuts her eyes for a moment. ‘Kaitlin has her reasons.’
‘Name me a single one that’s justifiable.’
She pauses. ‘Kaitlin’s a good mother. But she brought Freddy up on her own. And basically, she feels comfortable with that.’
‘That’s not justifiable. And it’s not even a reason. It’s an excuse.’
‘Please, Hesketh. You’re shouting. Sit down.’
She sits in an armchair and points at the other one. Reluctantly, I sink into it. ‘Anyway this isn’t about what Kaitlin feels comfortable with. It’s about Freddy and his entitlement to a father. It’s a question of justice.’
She looks at her hands. When she speaks, her voice is low and I have to strain to hear it. ‘Don’t think I’ve felt good about all this, Hesketh.’
I bang the glass table between us and she jumps. ‘So don’t be a coward! Stand up for the boy’s rights! Do whatever you want with Kaitlin. I don’t care. But don’t let her stop me being Freddy’s dad.’ She turns away, so I bang the table again. ‘Is that a yes?’ She nods again. ‘Then say it.’
‘Yes.’ Her eyes are reddening. I don’t care.
‘I’m going to hold you to that.’
‘You can.’ She gets to her feet quickly, goes to the bathroom and emerges blowing her nose into a tissue. She’s carrying a white hand towel which she chucks in my direction. ‘Dry your hair.’ She sniffs and blows her nose again. ‘Now let’s have a drink.’ She goes over to the mini-bar and throws open the door.
‘Thanks.’ As I start towelling my hair, my head begins to buzz with what might be joy.
She comes and sits opposite me, pours out our drinks. Whisky. She hands me a generous glass. ‘Well I’ll be honest with you, Hesketh. Things haven’t been easy with Freddy.’ She takes a big gulp and flushes. I see that this must represent a betrayal. I am glad. ‘He’s confused, inevitably.’ I remember Kaitlin’s text:
you have left Freddy very confused.
‘I’m not kidding myself. I can’t afford to in my job. I want to do what’s right. The thing is, the thing I wanted to discuss with you is, well . . . The day before yesterday he—’