An Affair of the Heart (5 page)

“What
implications?” Dr Jones demanded.

“I’ll explain,”
Gordon Murray said, his slight Scottish accent still noticeable
even after fifteen years in Manchester. “And donae worry, I’ll do
it in a way that doesnae offend anybody.”

Andrea Walker
sighed and nodded her agreement. “That would be a good idea,
Gordon,” she said.

“The heart
transplant that Mr Bloomfield carried out on Rachel Carter three
days ago involved a heart taken from a donor at Manchester Royal
Infirmary,” Murray began. “It appears that, through some strange
accident, the donor’s identification got mixed up with that of
another deceased patient. Suffice it to say that authorisation to
proceed with the removal of the heart wasnae obtained from the
correct relative. Nor was there any written authorisation from the
deceased herself. Regardless of the fact that the transplant
operation was carried out very successfully, this now leaves us
with a somewhat tricky problem. We’ve now been notified by the
solicitors acting on behalf of the donor’s husband, a Mr Alex
Williams, that he intends to sue both hospitals and Miss
Carter.”

Dr Jones was
speechless. He just sat there in silence, staring at Gordon Murray
as if he had been speaking a different language.

“Can’t we put
him off?” Andrea Walker asked. “There must be dozens of other
negligence cases ahead of this one.”

“Normally,
yes,” John Stanley said. “There are probably hundreds of cases
ahead of ours. But Williams has got a lot of money, and he’s not
going to be shy about spending it. That solicitor of his is already
pulling strings to get the case heard early.”

“That’s right,”
Barrett said. “And it’s already got to the attention of the
national newspapers. One of the tabloids carried a story only this
morning, saying how Williams intends to keep his wife’s body in
storage until this is all over.”

“Aye, and
there’s Dr Jones’s patient to think about too,” Murray added. “It’s
all going to add pressure to their case for an early court date. I
think you’ll find that this case is going to get into court a lot
sooner than you might think.”

Dr Jones was
completely baffled by their conversation. “But I don’t understand
any of this,” He finally managed to say. “Why is Williams keeping
his wife’s body in storage? And why would he want to sue us,
anyway? We had no involvement in the process of obtaining the heart
for the transplant; that was the MRI’s responsibility. And what has
any of this got to do with Rachel? She was just the patient. She
didn’t choose the heart, she just received it.”

“Exactly,”
Murray replied, raising his finger. “Mr Williams is suing
Manchester Royal Infirmary for compensation for making the mistake
in the first place, but he’s keeping his wife’s body in storage
because he’s suing us, and Miss Carter, for the return of his dead
wife’s heart.”

Rachel was
recovering well. She was awake, and sitting up in bed. She had a
cup of tea and some toast that morning, and now she was looking
forward to a full meal at lunchtime. She did actually feel hungry.
Hungry and restless. She was eager to be doing something, but she
just didn’t know what. She pushed her glasses back up from the end
of her nose and looked around the room. Quickly bored of that, she
began to move her feet back and forth under the bedclothes,
watching the lumps they made moving about. It was so strange. She
felt so...energetic.

She didn’t feel
like resting anymore. Now she just felt bored sitting here in bed.
Instead, she wanted to get up, walk around, and do something. She
placed her hand on her chest and felt for the heartbeats. It felt
different; there was no doubt about it. Dr Jones had said that she
would feel fitter and healthier. That was to be expected. But not
that the heart itself would feel any different in her chest. They
all told her that was silly. They were wrong. It did feel
different. It felt stronger, eager. It was as if it expected her to
be doing something, or going somewhere. She just didn’t know what
or where.

Rachel wondered
about the woman whose heart this was. What kind of woman was she?
Was she a good person, or bad? And what was she doing when she
died? Was she going somewhere? Was there something she wanted to
do? It was all so strange, but somehow, exciting.

Rachel felt
talkative, but for some reason that morning, her mother had gone
out to find Dr Jones almost as soon as she had arrived. Typical.
Just when she was in the mood for a good yap.

At that moment,
Gina was standing with Dr Jones just down the corridor from
Rachel’s room. She had pushed the doctor back against the wall and
pinned him there.

“I don’t
believe this,” Gina was saying in a shaky voice. Her face was
white. “It can’t be true...Tell me it isn’t true!” She suddenly
shook Dr Jones by the collar of his white coat. “You knew about
this, didn’t you? And you didn’t tell me!” she said, raising her
voice and shaking him again, only more violently this time. “How
could you let this happen?”

“Calm down,
Gina!” Dr Jones protested. He tried to stop her from shaking him,
but she was stronger than he was. “Stop this! Stop it, Gina!” he
demanded. “Do you want Rachel to hear us arguing?”

Gina stopped
shaking him, and Dr Jones quickly put his arm around her and moved
away from the wall. “Of course we’re not going to let this happen!
And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you unduly,
that’s all! I knew that a summons had been served on the hospital,
but I never thought that he would actually have the nerve to do the
same to you!”

“He did! He had
the nerve!” Gina waved the letter about as she spoke. “We’ve been
summoned to court, Dr Jones! It says he wants it back! How can he
want it back? Who does he think he is? And what about my Rachel?
Doesn’t he know about her? Doesn’t he care?”

“Don’t worry,
Gina. It’s going to be alright! It’s just the ranting of an angry
and bitter man, that’s all! No court would ever allow this to
happen! They wouldn’t dare!”

“But we can’t
afford to go to court! I only have a part time job, and I get the
rest on benefit! I spend most of my time looking after Rachel! How
can I afford solicitors and barristers? What am I going to do, Dr
Jones? What am I going to do?”

“You won’t have
to pay for any of that! Don’t worry! The hospital will fight this!
What kind of people do you think we are? Do you really think we
would just stand back and let this happen? You don’t have to do
anything, Gina! Just let our legal people deal with this,
okay?”

There was
silence while they stared at each other. Gina was breathing hard,
the fear showing plainly in her expression. She glanced quickly
down the corridor towards Rachel’s room before turning back to Dr
Jones, grabbing him by the collar again.

“Rachel mustn’t
know about this!” she said urgently. “I don’t want anything to
upset her! Do you hear me? She mustn’t know anything about it until
it’s all over!”

Dr Jones paused
before answering. “All right,” he said. “We’ll do our best.”

Alex Williams
paced up and down in Helen Worthington’s office.

“Are you sure
you still want to go ahead with this?” Helen asked him in a soft,
elegant voice. She was sat behind her desk in a big leather chair.
She looked very relaxed as sat back with her legs crossed, one
heeled shoe hanging precariously from the end of her toes. She
tilted the chair back further, and swung it slowly from side to
side, tapping her nails on the inlaid wood in each of its arms.

Helen
Worthington was a striking woman. She had worked her way up from
legal secretary, to associate, then partner. And now at forty-four
she had become the senior partner of the firm. Those who knew her
said that her success was due to cunning and a sharp legal mind,
others who liked her less called her conniving. All accepted that
she was extremely clever.

To compliment
the sharpness of her mind, Helen kept herself fit to the point of
obsession. She made weekly visits to a health club, and worked out
in her own gym at home each morning. She also dressed well, putting
most of her clients and all of her colleagues in the shade. She was
undoubtedly beautiful, with green eyes and shoulder length red
hair, and a lean, firm body. But above all, she was rock hard and
colder than liquid nitrogen.

“Yes,” Alex
said. “I’m sure.” He stopped pacing and turned to face Helen. He
was now level with the side of her desk, and could see her clearly
behind it, lounging in that big leather chair. His eyes drifted to
her legs. She was wearing a black business suit, and the skirt was
short. Her legs looked most attractive, clad no doubt in black
stockings, he thought, not tights. His eyes moved slowly up to her
face, and he stared into her eyes. She stared coldly back.

“Had a good
look?” she asked him, her eyes unwavering.

Alex turned his
back on her. “I had a good look before I met you, Miss Worthington,
when I chose you and this firm,” he said, his voice as cold as
hers. “I didn’t choose you then because you were the best. I chose
you because you were the best for this job. You see, I needed
someone who was totally without conscience, someone who didn’t care
one tiny little bit about the consequences of what we’re doing. I
needed someone who would only care about winning this case.”

Alex turned
around to face her once more. He stepped forward and leaned on her
desk, staring back into her eyes again. “You fit the part
perfectly, Miss Worthington,” he continued in the same cold tones.
“Because you’re like me. Totally heartless. But together we’re
going to put that right, aren’t we?”

Helen
Worthington smiled. It was a beautiful vision. “When you brought
your account to me last week, I wondered why you had chosen us,”
she said in that silky voice. “I knew that your wife had recently
been killed, but I had no idea that you were contemplating such a
remarkable case. You’re right, of course. If we win, that Carter
girl could die. But if I win...Well, with the publicity this case
is going to attract, my reputation would be enhanced on an
international scale. In my mind there’s no contest. If I had to,
I’d shoot her with a gun.”

Alex grunted.
He went back to sit in one of the easy chairs positioned opposite
her large desk for visiting clients. “So what does this mean?” he
asked her, holding up the letter that she had handed him
earlier.

“Now that I’m
sure of your intent, it means nothing.”

“They’re
fighting a joint case and you tell me that it means nothing?”

“Then I’ll just
have to separate them, won’t I? The hospital will soon see the
benefit of dropping the Carter woman and her daughter. They know
it’s the heart we want, so I’ll just give them an easy way out, and
they’ll take it. The Carter’s survive on social security, so
without the hospital to back them up anymore, they’ll soon end up
with some overworked, underpowered legal aid solicitor. They’ll be
easy meat, and I’ll smash them.”

“And the other
hospital? The MRI?”

“They’ll
settle. It’s only money you want out of them. They know they’re at
fault, so for them, it’s just about containing the damage.”

Helen paused,
looking closely at Alex Williams. He looked rather thin and gaunt.
Haggard, even. He obviously wasn’t eating or sleeping too well. In
fact he looked like he had slept in his suit. “Actually, I think
you might be the weak point in our case, Mr Williams,” she said to
him.

“You think so?”
he replied, eyebrows raised. “And why is that?”

“Because you’re
going to be the ogre in this story. The newspapers and the media
are going to camp outside your house. They’re going to paint you as
an evil, uncaring and bitter man.” Her voice took on a more mocking
tone. “You’re the man trying to tear the heart out of some poor,
innocent, young girl. People are going to boo and hiss at you in
the street. They’ll throw things at you. By the way you look, I
don’t think you can take the pressure.”

Alex paused for
a moment before replying. “They mutilated my dead wife,” he said in
a low voice. “My Sarah. They took out parts of her, and then
hastily put them back in when they learned of their mistake. And
they gave her heart to someone else. How dared they? How did they
dare do all that without even asking me?” His voice grew sterner.
“I want my wife’s heart back! I’ve arranged for Sarah’s body to be
kept in storage. When I bury Sarah, it’ll be when her body is whole
again, and not before. Only then will I be able to mourn over her.
I don’t care what people might think of me, or you for that matter!
I just want my wife’s heart back! So get it for me!”

Gina had been
in despair. Nobody spoke the truth anymore. There was no one left
whom she could trust. And suddenly, here was this man she had never
seen before, standing there at her door, asking her to trust
him.

Dr Jones had
promised her that the hospital would stand by her, that she
wouldn’t have to worry about anything. But even he was wrong. The
letter had arrived that morning.

‘After careful
consideration,’ it said, ‘and in the light of further developments
in the case,’ it continued, ‘the Directors of the Trust have
decided that it would be more beneficial to the hospital if a
separate case was now fought.’

Further
developments, more beneficial. Gina knew what all that really
meant.

Why did that
small narrow slot in the door deliver such pain?

“Cowards!
Turncoats! You’re going to let my Rachel die!”