Catch Your Death (29 page)

‘
You’ll have to tell me yourself, then,’ Kate said, too tense to acknowledge the joke. ‘Although I don’t think there’s any chance of that, not the way I’m feeling now. I’m too desperate to know. Shhh, listen, she’s got to the counting backwards bit.’

‘
I’m going to count backwards from five, and click my fingers when I get to one. When I click my fingers, you will be back on the day of the fire. Five….four …three…two…one… and you’re back there. Look around you. What do you see?’

Kate held her breath. She had a vague recollection of what she’d said at the time, but it felt sketchy and distant, like a dream. Then she heard her own voice on the tape, slow but distinct:

‘
I’m walking towards the field at the back of the centre….it’s so hot. I want to lie down because I feel ill….everything’s aching…but I don’t want to go to my room because Sarah’s in there, and we had a row…. I can see Stephen through the window in the lab; he’s working today, so I won’t be able to talk to him till later. He’s moving around among the benches, frowning at test tubes. I love to watch him when he can’t see me. I love the way he walks, and the way his back muscles move under the white coat, when he stretches up to open a cupboard… I could watch him all day…He’s so gorgeous. I’m going to marry him some day…’

Kate glanced across at Paul, wincing. ‘I don’t remember saying that,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’

Paul made a dismissive gesture. ‘It’s fine,’ he said tersely. Then, less tersely, he said, ‘No, it’s really fine. Just feels a bit weird to be jealous of my dead twin, that’s all… Anyway, shhh, it gets way more interesting in a minute.’

‘
But you’re feeling ill?’

‘
Yes. I feel terrible. My head’s throbbing. I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m getting a cold, but I’m still pissed off about it. I suppose I was lucky, last time I was here, because I didn’t. It’s totally unreasonable but I feel like you do when you get ill on holiday, sort of outraged. If I’m ill I won’t be able to enjoy seeing Stephen so much. I decide to go for a little walk, to try and clear my head. If I’m about to be ill it might be my last chance for some fresh air for a few days.’

‘
Where are you now?’

‘
I’m still looking through the lab window but without Stephen noticing… I didn’t want him to see me spying on him, but then he looks up and sees me…I pretend I’m just passing, on my way to the woods. I wave at him, and he waves slowly back, his eyes all wide as he gets distracted from his task. He smiles at me, but suddenly the smile goes, and he snaps his attention away from me and on to the man who’s just walked into the lab.’

‘
Who is this man?’

‘
I don’t know. He’s in a lab coat too. He’s thin and bony and bald and it’s silly but he’s so creepy-looking that I think, “oh look, it’s Doctor Death”. That’s what he looks like. It must be Stephen’s boss, the director of the centre. Dr. Gaunt – that’s what his real name is. Stephen doesn’t like him, he said before that he thinks he’s a cold bastard. I remember he laughed at the pun: a cold bastard. Stephen turns his back on me when the man’s talking to him, so I wander off across the field. I think if I go into the woods it might be a bit cooler.’

‘
Then what happens? Is there a fire yet?’

‘
A fire? No. No fire. It’s just hot because it’s summer and I think I’ve got a temperature as well… I want to lie down.’

‘
So what do you do?’

‘
I walk into the woods. It isn’t so hot there. The trees are all shady and old, and it’s dark and quiet. I feel like I can breathe better in there. The ground is mossy, and I think: perfect. I decide to have a nap because I’m so tired…I lie down under a tree, between two big roots, and it’s lovely and soft. I’m asleep really quickly…’

‘
Do you sleep for long?’

‘
I don’t know. But I’m woken up too soon. Something wakes me up.’

‘
What wakes you up, Kate?’

‘
Voices. Voices wake me up; men’s voices talking.’

‘
Can you see these men?’

‘
No. They’re on the other side of the tree from me. I sit up and look around. They’re standing a few feet away from me with their backs to me, but it’s so quiet in there that I can hear every word they’re saying. One of them is Doctor Death, I mean, Gaunt, without his lab coat, and the other one is a fat man in a suit, with a German accent. He’s a visiting scientist.’

‘
What are they saying?’

In the car, Kate and Paul were both leaning forwards in their seats, gripping hands. Paul of course had heard it before, but he was as agog as Kate, perhaps waiting for her reaction to what was coming next. Kate remembered that she had talked about falling asleep under the tree, but she genuinely had no idea what the conversation she’d overheard was about. She thought briefly of Doreen, and wondered if she was surprised at all this talk of labs and scientists – they hadn’t mentioned that the place was a research laboratory.

‘
They’re laughing,’ Kate said on the tape, slowly and clearly. ‘The German one goes “We’re ahead of you on this one.” Doctor Gaunt says, “Ah, but you’ve lost five already.” I’m confused. I can’t think what they’re talking about. Maybe the football. Then the German says, “You’re being far too timid in your experimentation – you’ll never catch us, with your insistence on these ridiculous ethics.” Now I know they aren’t talking about football…’

Kate squeezed Paul’s hand involuntarily, with shock. ‘Oh shit,’ she said.

‘
Wait,’ Paul replied, ‘It gets worse.’

‘
Do they say anything else?’ Doreen’s voice betrayed no surprise at the unexpected turn of recollection. She retained the same calm, soothing monotone.

‘
Yes. Doctor Gaunt says, “If it were down to me… We’re completely handicapped by Bainbridge – he’s becoming a liability. He’s even got old family friends staying here now, though she won’t be here much longer. What we’ve just discovered is going to blow you out of the water, my friend…. But it’s difficult – funds are tight, you know how it is…. Mangold has been more than generous, but he’s starting to demand results. And if the government really knew what’s going on here, they’d close us down and we’d all be in jail. If they think what Porton Down does is controversial, God knows what they’d make of this!”

‘
What do you do next?’

‘
I huddle up behind the tree with my arms wrapped around my knees. I try to make myself as small as possible because I suddenly just know that I will be in big big trouble if they see me here… I can’t let them see me … I’m really scared now, especially because they mentioned me. I keep thinking about Stephen and wondering if he knows about any of this stuff. I’m going to have to ask him – but what if he does, and he’s been hiding it from me? It sounds bad. They aren’t talking about the common cold, that’s for sure.’

‘
Do you ask Stephen about it?’

On the tape, Kate had started to cry. ‘No. Because I never saw him again. He died before I could talk to him. The scientists eventually left the woods and I waited a bit longer and then went back to my room. I felt even more ill by then anyway. I went to bed. Sarah was there, but I was too sick to talk to her so I didn’t even care. I just ignored her. The next thing I remember was being woken up by someone screaming, and Sarah pulling me to get up.’

‘
Tell me about the fire, Kate…’

‘
It was like the world was on fire…’

Kate clicked off the tape. ‘I can’t listen to any more, not at the moment. It’s too much.’

‘
Did you remember saying any of that when you were in the trance?’ Paul caressed her tense hand.

‘
Well. Sort of. But not in so much detail. And not what Dr. Death and his friend were talking about… But it makes sense, in a way. It makes sense now why Sampson’s after us. He works for Dr. Death. He doesn’t know how much I know, and he’s freaking out. Oh God, Stephen, they’ll kill us both – ‘

Kate didn’t even notice her mistake, until Paul removed his hand from hers.

‘
I’m Paul, Kate. Not Stephen.’

Kate slapped her head, mortified. ‘Oh Paul, of course I didn’t get you mixed up! I’m so sorry, it only slipped out because I’d been thinking so much about him, and talking about him so much on the tape…. Forgive me, please? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s you I want, really.’

Paul stared out of the window. He knew she was right, that it was an understandable slip of the tongue under the circumstances, and yet he couldn’t prevent himself saying the one thing which had been preying on his mind for some time: ‘So, what if Stephen were here? Would it still be me that you wanted?’

There was a brief silence. Kate leaned over to him, hugging him sideways on. But she couldn’t look at him.

‘
Paul… how can I answer that? Surely it doesn’t matter now? What’s important is you and me. And figuring out how we get out of this without getting seriously hurt, or killed. I don’t think this is the time to worry about our relationship. But, for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re here. And I really, really want us to be together. I don’t want anyone else.’

Paul leaned down and kissed the top of her head. ‘I know. I’m sorry. It all feels so overwhelming at the moment, that’s all. I know I’m not helping matters by saying things like that.’

‘
It’s OK.’

They hugged again and Paul closed his eyes. Kate was warm; she felt so right in his arms. He had never been the hearts and flowers type. Never been a romantic who believed that certain people were meant to be together. An ex-girlfriend had, at first, tried to persuade him that fate had introduced them, that they were two halves of a whole, twin souls who would be forever entwined. Then she cheated on him and left him. Since then, he hadn’t gone looking for love, and he certainly didn’t believe in destiny. But meeting Kate… well, it did feel like that. He couldn’t imagine life without her now.

‘
You’re trembling,’ he said.

Her voice was quiet when she replied, speaking close to his ear. ‘I can see him, Paul. Dr Gaunt. His face. And I feel like he’s watching me.’ She squeezed him tighter. ‘He’s still out there somewhere. I know it, and it terrifies me.’

Kate went into the petrol station to buy a bottle of water, leaving Paul in the car. He thought about when Kate had called him Stephen. It had hurt, made jealousy flare up inside. But he believed her when she said she wanted him. He also knew that if he thought about it too much, it would drive him insane.

Wanting to fill the silence, he turned on the engine and switched on the radio.

‘
Police investigating the murder of pensioner Jean Bainbridge are looking to question a man and a woman who were last seen in Cannock Chase. They are known to be armed, having stolen a gun, and may be dangerous. The man is described as…’

Paul switched off the radio just before Kate got back to the car. There was no point giving her even more to worry about.

CHAPTER 36

Dr Clive Gaunt punched the code number into the panel and waited for the door to slide open. As he stepped inside he felt that familiar tingle, the thrill he got from his toes to the few hairs remaining on his scalp. It happened whenever he entered this cool, brightly-lit room. Only he and one other were allowed in here. This was his space, where his life’s work resided, where his most treasured possessions dwelled in suspended animation, waiting to be brought to life.

He walked around, running a gloved finger over the dull metal surfaces of the freezer units, surrounded by state of the art lab equipment. He didn’t need to label the units; he knew by memory what was in each one. When he closed his eyes he could see inside – no, more than that. In his mind’s eye he could picture the viruses as magnified by an electron microscope. So beautiful. For example, the human papillamovirus, like a bright cluster of sea anemones swimming in a warm sea. Or the herpes viruses, each like some exotic flower, their capsids blooming in vivid colour. HIV was another favourite, bringing to mind an alien species from the dark edges of the universe.

His father had collected fine wines, and when Clive was a boy, Gaunt senior would very occasionally allow him to accompany him into the wine cellar. He wasn’t allowed to speak during these worshipful visits, which usually happened on a Sunday, when father would return from church (or rather, his post-church visit to the pub). ‘Come with me,’ he’d say, and he would lead Clive down the stairs and switch on the low-hanging light. The bottles, shining darkly in the dimness, were racked from floor to ceiling. His father would trace their labels with his finger, pick them up and cradle them, murmur sweet nothings before replacing them. On very special occasions, a bottle would be taken upstairs, opened, sniffed, savoured, sipped. And Clive would sometimes be allowed a small glass, given a clip round the ear if he didn't pull an adequately appreciative face as he tasted it.

When his father died, he sold off the entire collection and had the cellar of their huge country house converted. He wondered what Father would say if he’d known that one day his house would be the headquarters of the British cell of a worldwide network of very special scientific researchers; that what was once his wine cellar would house what was arguably the world’s finest collection of viruses, rivalled only by those of Ryu Koizumi in Japan and Charles Mangold in Utah. Though Koizumi was merely a rich collector – he didn’t do anything with his viruses – and Mangold was past it now, a walking biological hazard who, fortunately for his fellow Americans, lived in the very middle of nowhere.