A Lovely Way to Burn (9 page)

She caught up with Nurse Webb at the lift. The other woman looked at her for the first time since they had left the ward and Stevie saw again the tiredness blighting her eyes.

‘Were you really going out with Dr Sharkey?’

‘Yes.’

The lift rumbled down the shaft towards them.

‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ The nurse’s voice was flat and free of emotion, as if she had learnt the condoling phrase by rote. ‘It must have been a shock.’

Stevie saw again Simon’s face in the mirror, the awkward angle of his head, the line of spittle trailing from his mouth.

‘Yes, it was a shock.’

The lift doors opened, and they were met with the stares of the people cramped inside, whey-faced and packed together as if in an upright tomb. Nurse Webb put an arm on Stevie’s elbow and stepped smartly forward, taking Stevie with her. The lift’s inhabitants squeezed impossibly closer to make room for them. They travelled downwards in a fug of sweat and recycled breath. The lift shed occupants at each floor, like a metaphor for the randomness of death, until Stevie was left alone with Nurse Webb, but it wasn’t until they stepped out into the cool of a deserted basement corridor that the nurse spoke again.

‘Dr Sharkey was a good surgeon. He saved a lot of children’s lives.’

It sounded like an accusation and Stevie wondered if the nurse thought Simon might still be alive if he had found a girlfriend who had known how to take proper care of him. She said, ‘Simon spoke about the hospital a lot, but it was generally funny stories, the human things that happened.’ She smiled at the irony of it. ‘It’s only now that I realise I was never really clear what Simon did. I knew he was a surgeon, I knew he worked with sick kids, but he never talked about the details.’

‘You didn’t know about his cerebral palsy work?’ The hint of accusation was back in the nurse’s voice.

‘No.’

Nurse Webb’s small chin jutted out. She reminded Stevie of the war memorial in her home town: a female Victory, her triumph tempered by the death of so many gallant youths.

‘Dr Sharkey was modest about it, but he was part of a major breakthrough in treating the condition.’

Simon had liked chic restaurants and loud nightclubs that made her ears ring the next morning. He had liked her to bite his shoulders when they made love, and to leave marks so that he could remember it later. He was a member of a carpool with access to a series of sports cars that drew pedestrians’ stares. Simon’s being a surgeon had seemed part of his glamour. He had encouraged her to see him that way, Stevie realised, and she wondered if that was the reason he had kept her separate from his family and friends.

They had been walking along the corridor all this while and had now reached a set of double doors. Stevie followed Nurse Webb through them, into a room that reminded her of the television studio just before a programme went live, every member of the crew focused on their task, working against the seconds, with a determination that left no room for panic.

Nurse Webb seemed to lose her poise for a moment. She hesitated, as if unsure of who to talk to, but then a woman in a white coat looked up from her task and asked, ‘Yes?’

‘I’ve brought Miss Flint down to have her blood tested.’ Nurse Webb produced a form Stevie didn’t remember anyone filling out. ‘Dr Ahumibe phoned ahead to let you know we were on our way.’

The woman’s hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail but she touched a hand to her forehead as if expecting to push away some stray strands.

‘Who did he speak to?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘In that case, I suggest you find out.’

‘Miss Flint thinks she’s survived the virus. Dr Ahumibe thought it might be worth taking some samples from her.’

‘That’s a lot of speculation.’ The woman’s voice had a Liverpudlian lilt. Her skin was pale gold beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. Her hand went to her temple again, smoothing her already smooth hair. ‘But I guess speculation is pretty much all that we have at the moment.’ She took the form from Nurse Webb and glanced at Stevie. ‘I’m Dr Chu. How do you feel?’

‘Okay. A lot better than I did.’

‘Good.’ Dr Chu’s grin reminded Stevie of the smiles she forced after hours of late-night selling, but her glance was sharp enough to cut through flesh and into bone. ‘If you don’t mind waiting here for a moment, I’ll see if I can get someone to do the deed.’

‘I can do it if you like.’

Nurse Webb was wearing her war-memorial expression again, sweetly noble and ready to sacrifice someone else’s blood.

‘Are you sure?’ Dr Chu unlocked a metal cabinet and took out a cellophane-wrapped syringe, not giving the nurse time to change her mind. She smiled at Stevie. ‘We may want to hang on to you for a little while.’

‘I have to go to work.’ Stevie hated the combination of apology and panic in her voice. ‘I’ll come back if you need me, but I can’t hang around much longer.’

‘Ah yes, work.’ Dr Chu looked at her as if she was an interesting sample it might be worth putting under the microscope. ‘The sky may be falling on our heads, but the wheels of commerce grind inexorably on.’ She turned her attention back to Nurse Webb. ‘You really think she has had it?’

The nurse shrugged. ‘That’s why Dr Ahumibe sent her down.’

‘Okay, I’ll go and speak with Mr James.’

Dr Chu turned her back on them and returned to the mysterious busyness of the lab.

Nurse Webb pulled out a chair. There was nothing to stop Stevie from walking out of the room and then out of the hospital, but she sat down, tucking the bag with Simon’s precious computer in it between her feet. The thought of the needle piercing her skin made her feel sick. She asked, ‘Those children in the ward upstairs, where I was to meet Mr Reah, do they all have cerebral palsy?’

‘Some of them.’ Nurse Webb tore open an antibacterial wipe. ‘Roll up your sleeve, please.’

Stevie unfastened the cuff of her thin cotton shirt and pushed the sleeve up as far as it would go. She held out her arm and the nurse swabbed the crook of her elbow.

‘At least you’ve got good-sized veins.’

Stevie wondered at the ‘at least’, but she said, ‘That’s the best compliment I’ve had in a while.’ The antiseptic was cold against her skin and she swallowed a gasp. ‘Will the children in the ward still get cured, even though Simon won’t be there to help them?’

Nurse Webb broke the seal on the syringe’s cellophane packet.

‘It’s not as easy as that. I’m afraid there isn’t a straightforward cure.’

She fastened a tourniquet around Stevie’s upper arm.

‘But the breakthrough he made will still help them?’

‘This will be easier if you don’t look.’ Stevie turned her head to look up at the ceiling and steeled herself against the needle’s sting. She felt Nurse Webb’s fingers firm against her flesh, and then the burn of the needle as it pierced her skin. ‘Don’t worry.’ The nurse’s voice was unexpectedly soothing. ‘We don’t need much.’ Stevie felt the nurse attach something else to the puncture and then the fluid being drawn from her body. Nurse Webb repeated, ‘Look away,’ but Stevie glanced at her arm and saw her blood sliding through a transparent tube into a sealed bag. A drop of moisture landed on her arm. She looked up and saw that the other woman’s face was shiny with perspiration. Nurse Webb said, ‘Dr Sharkey was part of a team. He’ll be sadly missed, but they should be able to continue without him.’

They sat for a while in silence. Stevie stared at the satchel between her feet until she felt the nurse’s cool fingers against her skin. ‘Hold that until the bleeding stops.’ The nurse pressed a cotton-wool pad to the wound.

Stevie did as she was told, her fingers dark against the whiteness of the cotton wool. Some of the polish had peeled from her nails. She should have made time for a manicure before this evening’s programme but she would have to rely on whoever was on make-up to touch up her nail varnish instead.

She asked, ‘Did Simon’s team offer their treatment on the National Health Service?’

Nurse Webb held up the bag of blood, checking its seal. The hospital lights shone redly against it.

‘Unfortunately the treatment is too expensive to roll out on the NHS. It can only be obtained privately.’

‘So it’s only available to children with rich parents?’

Nurse Webb gave the bag a last check and labelled it.

‘The only way to make the treatment cheap enough for the National Health Service was to develop it, and the only way to do that is through private practice.’ She dumped the needle she had used on Stevie in a bin marked
Sharps
. ‘Dr Sharkey could have lived entirely off his private earnings, but he continued to work for the NHS as well.’

Stevie pressed the pad to her arm, trying to displace the nausea in her stomach with a more manageable pain.

‘But he profited from sick children.’

‘No.’ Nurse Webb sounded exasperated. ‘He helped sick children. Without Dr Sharkey and his team the treatment wouldn’t exist. You were going out with him. You know he was a good man.’

‘Yes,’ Stevie said.

The large apartment made sense now, the over-the-top cars and over-priced restaurants too. She lifted the cotton-wool pad. The puncture mark was bold against her skin, but the blood had congealed and a bruise was already forming. She could see Dr Chu walking towards them from the other side of the department, deep in conversation with a tall sandy-haired man. Dr Chu nodded in her direction, they stopped, and the man said something to the doctor that made her glance again at Stevie.

Nurse Webb said, ‘Dr Sharkey made a lot of sacrifices for his profession. Whatever he earned, it was less than he deserved.’ There was a catch in her voice, a threat of tears. ‘You should be glad he enjoyed life while he could.’

‘I am.’ Stevie was watching the tall man now. He was on the telephone, talking intently to someone. He glanced in her direction, caught her gaze and quickly looked away. Stevie wondered if he was speaking to Dr Ahumibe and what had made her think that he might be. She said, ‘Why would they want to keep me here?’

‘If you survived the virus, there might be tests that we can do that could help us find a vaccine.’

‘Are there other survivors here?’

Dr Chu was back at their side. She took a notepad from her pocket and wrote something in it. ‘We’ve taken samples from a few.’ She turned to Nurse Webb. ‘I think we can manage from here.’

The nurse hesitated. Stevie saw the sweat on her forehead glisten beneath the harsh fluorescent lights and asked, ‘Are you okay?’

Nurse Webb gave a curt nod, but her attention was focused on Dr Chu.

‘You should keep her until you find an antidote.’

Across the ward, as if on cue, someone stumbled. There was the sound of smashing glass and a flutter of activity, but although they both glanced in its direction neither Dr Chu nor Nurse Webb moved to help.

‘Thank you, nurse.’ The doctor touched Nurse Webb’s arm and her voice softened. ‘Don’t worry. We’re not the only ones working on this. Labs all over the world are pooling their resources.’

The nurse stepped closer to Dr Chu and Stevie saw the doctor take an involuntary step backward. She wiped a hand across her face and held it up, displaying the slick of moisture across her palm.

Dr Chu said, ‘Nurse, if you are feeling unwell, follow procedure and take yourself to quarantine.’

Nurse Webb’s hand was still raised and for a moment Stevie thought she was going to touch the doctor’s face. But then she turned and walked slowly from the room, letting the door swing shut behind her.

‘Will she be all right?’

Dr Chu was still staring at the door, as if unsure of whether she should go after the nurse.

‘Do you mean will she live?’

The starkness of the question shook Stevie, but she was surprised to realise that it was exactly what she had meant.

‘I suppose so.’

The doctor looked at her. ‘I’ve been doing my homework. In the fourteenth century sixty per cent of Europe’s population died from plague. It’s a myth that it was all down to rats. The truth is, we still don’t really know what it was. Of those that survived, there wasn’t anyone who hadn’t lost someone close to them. Many lost their entire families.’

‘This isn’t anything like that though, is it?’

The doctor looked away. She lifted her hand to her hair again. This time a few strands had escaped. She tucked them back in place.

‘It’s impossible to know.’

‘You said labs across the world are working on it. Surely someone will find an antidote?’

‘Perhaps, but there’s not a physician alive who isn’t regularly reminded that we’ve failed to find an effective cure for the common cold.’ Dr Chu glanced towards where the tall, sandy-haired man was standing. He had put the phone down and was beckoning to her. ‘I think Mr James needs me. Is there anyone waiting at home for you? Children?’

‘Why?’

‘It might be useful if you could hang around for a bit longer.’ She gave Stevie’s arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re kept in one piece.’

Stevie watched Dr Chu cross the room to where Mr James was waiting and saw him hand the doctor a piece of paper. She scanned its contents quickly and the two began to talk in low murmurs. Mr James looked at Stevie. Dr Chu followed his gaze and then they stepped closer, like conspirators towards the end of an intrigue.