Hypocrite's Isle (15 page)

‘Well, I think I’m going to go in to the lab for a while,’ said Gavin once Caroline was settled into her room in the Polwarth flat. He was looking out of the third-floor window at the Christmas trees in many of the windows of the flats opposite while she unpacked her rucksack. He felt that they probably reflected their owners every bit as much as the cars parked in the street below, and mentally matched the artificial black one with the minimalist white lighting to the Audi, while the bushy Norway spruce with its flashing
coloured
lights went with the Fiat Punto.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Of course not. I think I’ll have a bath, wash my hair, phone home to see how things are, and then have an early night if we’re going to be out partying tomorrow. By the way, Gina’s invited us to a party at her boyfriend’s flat across the street after the fireworks.’

Gavin nodded. ‘Sounds good.’

‘Don’t stay too late,’ said Caroline as she saw Gavin to the door. She reached up and brought his mouth down on hers to give him a long kiss. ‘Thanks, Gavin,’ she said.

‘For what?’

‘Being there.’

‘Well … don’t mention it … I can be there any time … middle of the night no problem, just call me.’

‘G’night, Gavin.’

 

Gavin caught the 27 bus outside the building and sat up front on the top deck. He was feeling good, mainly because of the
spontaneous
kiss that Caroline had given him, but also because he was now thinking about what she’d said about his experimental results. The cultures
were
displaying the behaviour of treated tumour cells in the body and she was right; this would enable him to investigate the problem in the lab, but only if the effect was real. There was still a big question mark over the change. It might well be due to some artefact, and Caroline could still be right about the Valdevan solution not being as active as before. It had been stored in the fridge, but all drug solutions did go off after a time. The membrane changes suggested that it had still been active but the concentration might have dropped slightly. He would have to make up fresh stuff and repeat the experiment.

The bus slowed to a halt as it joined a long queue of traffic in Gilmore Place. At first, Gavin couldn’t see the cause of the
problem
, but as they inched closer to the junction with Home Street, it became obvious that the pantomime at the King’s Theatre was the cause of the tailback. A string of coaches, delivering school children and pensioners’ outings to the front doors for the evening
performance
, was causing gridlock. Gavin smiled at the excited looks on the children’s faces as they were herded into reluctant order by
accompanying
adults. An emotional roller-coaster was in store for them but, in the end, Cinderella would go to the ball, lose her prince, find him again, marry and be happy ever after. The bus driver hit the horn and swore as a small car cut in front of him.

Gavin found the lab cold, dark and unwelcoming. Even the
fluorescent
lights seemed reluctant to respond and took what seemed an eternity to stutter into life. It made him wonder what the
medical
school must have been like when gas lighting had been the order of the day, but he quickly reminded himself that a Liverpool paddy wouldn’t have had the chance to find out in those far-off times. In fact, he wouldn’t have had the chance a few years hence, as the medical school and the hospital next door were moving to a new site on the south side of the city. He liked the old building. Fate had been kind in affording him the opportunity.

He lit several Bunsen burners in an attempt to take the chill off the room and settled down to examine his cell cultures. There had been no change during the course of the day. There was still no sign of cell death, although there was marked pinching of the membranes. With a heavy heart he returned them to the incubator and set about making up a fresh solution of Valdevan. Four hours later he had set up the experiment all over again. He had now used up his entire stock of cell cultures. ‘Please God, this time,’ he
murmured
, as he secured the clasp on the incubator door and set about clearing his bench. He spun round as the lab door opened, startling him. It was the night security man.

‘Will you be stayin’ much longer?’

‘No, just going.’

‘You’ve no’ had much of a Christmas.’

Gavin met Caroline in Doctors as arranged. The place was buzzing, as were the streets outside, in anticipation of the city’s Hogmanay party. It seemed that the prospect of heralding in the New Year with pop music and fireworks had gripped the imagination of everyone – certainly everyone under thirty. Two taxis drew up outside the pub and disgorged a crowd of young men wearing Scotland rugby jerseys and kilts. As they entered the bar, Gavin noted that three of them were carrying golfing umbrellas. He pondered on the image of a Jacobite with an umbrella.

‘Maybe we should start making our way down town,’ said
Caroline
. ‘Find a good place to stand?’

‘Right,’ agreed Gavin, who had little heart for joining the
four-deep
throng at the bar in the competition to get served again. He gulped down the last of his beer, his insides churning in
anticipation
of the test to come.

‘Perhaps we should go to the loo first? It could be a while.’

Gavin nodded and made sideways progress through the throng, using his trailing arm as an umbilical for Caroline. There was a queue outside the Ladies and Caroline said, ‘This could take time. Why don’t you make your way to the door when you come out and I’ll see you outside?’

It was chilly and there was a definite hint of rain in the air when Gavin came out of the bar, but he found it infinitely preferable to the crush inside. He paced slowly up and down a fifty-metre beat of Teviot Place with his hands in his pockets, before being forced to take refuge in a shop doorway directly opposite the medical school as the rain suddenly started to get heavier. He looked up at the darkened windows and couldn’t help but wonder how the new cells were growing, although he didn’t know quite what to hope for. If they survived, he would have a phenomenon on his hands – very interesting, but time for investigation was running out fast: the new term started in a week’s time. On the other hand, if they died, he still wouldn’t know for sure what had gone wrong last time.

Caroline joined him in the doorway, fastening her collar and pulling her hat down over her ears.

Gavin smiled and hugged her. ‘Well, what d’you think?’ he asked, holding a hand out to feel the rain, which seemed to be slackening again. He looked up at the night sky.

‘It was just a passing shower. Trust me,’ said Caroline.

Gavin became ever more quiet and withdrawn as they walked towards Princes Street with more and more people joining them along the way, until half-way down the Mound the throng slowed to a slow shuffle.

Caroline noted the tautness in his features when she had to come close to his ear to make herself heard above the noise of the pop concert in the Gardens, which was being relayed to speakers erected at intervals all over the centre of town. ‘How are you doing?’

‘I’m fine,’ Gavin assured her with a forced smile. In truth he would rather have been crossing the Sahara on a pogo stick at that particular moment, but his resolve not to let Caroline see his discomfort remained firm. ‘Good band.’ He stiffened as someone bumped into him from behind uttering a slurred, ‘Sorry, mate.’

‘No problem,’ said Gavin, now on self-imposed good behaviour auto-pilot.

‘Look! I think we can make it through to the railings,’ said Caroline. She pulled Gavin off to the left into a space just vacated by an anxious girl leading away her boyfriend who looked deathly pale. ‘I told you to stay off the vodka,’ Gavin heard her say as they brushed past. ‘Now we’re going to miss the whole bloody lot because of you …’

‘Perfect,’ said Caroline, stepping up on to the low wall that
supported
the railings surrounding Princes Street Gardens and
gripping
a railing with either hand. Gavin cloaked her like a protective shield with his arms stretched outside hers, gripping the railings on either side. All he had to do now was stand here until it was all over. Fear of the unknown in a moving crowd had been taken out of the equation. He even joined in the orchestrated countdown to the New Year when it came, culminating in a lingering kiss from Caroline and a mutual sip of Ardbeg whisky from the hip flask in his pocket as the bells rang out and the sky was split by
shooting
stars and flashing lights. The noise was deafening but no one needed or wanted to speak as the heavens became a kaleidoscope of ever-changing colour and pattern. Oohs and Aahs were the only language required.

There was a sudden sense of anticlimax when the fireworks came to an end, the noise stopped, and the smell of smoke drifting in the air was the only thing left of what had gone before. Caroline broke the silence. ‘That was absolutely fantastic, don’t you think?’

‘Great,’ smiled Gavin, feeling both pleased and relieved to see that Caroline had enjoyed herself. Mission accomplished.

‘I suggest we stay put until it gets easier to move.’

Gavin nodded and hugged her shoulders as they turned their attention away from the castle and gardens to rest their backs on the railings and watch the crowd disperse as police barriers were removed to open up arteries in all directions. He felt a sense of inner calm and almost exhaustion as he saw clear areas of pavement appear around him. Concrete had never looked so lovely.

‘Well, you did it,’ said Caroline.

‘Did what?’

‘Don’t think I don’t know how awful that was for you.’

‘Nonsense … I’m not that keen on crowds but …’

Caroline put a finger to his lips. ‘Thank you.’

‘It was really great.’

‘God forgive you.’

‘Time to head for your Polwarth party?’ Gavin was eyeing up the rapidly emptying streets as people headed off for parties of their own.

Caroline looked at him for what Gavin thought was an
unnervingly
long time. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think I feel much like going to a party.’

‘When it comes to bad nights to choose for an early night in Scotland …’

‘It wasn’t so much an early night I was thinking of, just
somewhere
quiet where we could be alone? What’s going on at your place?’

‘I think they were all going out …’

 

Gavin and Caroline spent New Year’s Day together – or what was left of it by the time they got up – visiting Caroline’s friends and generally eating and drinking too much. Gavin didn’t say a lot. Caroline’s friends were almost exclusively medical students and from similar backgrounds. He was aware of one in particular paying her a lot of attention, following her around the room in almost proprietorial fashion as she caught up with what friends had been doing over the break. He was tall and confident and clearly keen on her. Gavin held out the drink he’d been fetching for Caroline.

‘Marcus, you haven’t met my boyfriend, have you? This is Gavin. He’s in cancer research.’

‘Really, what particular aspect?’ asked Marcus, appearing less than overjoyed at the news.

‘Curing it,’ said Gavin, shaking hands with Marcus but not bothering to smile.

Marcus seemed unsure. He’d thought it a joke, but on the other hand Gavin wasn’t sending out the right vibes. ‘Good show,’ he said with a quick glance at Caroline. ‘I’m sure we’ll all be in your debt.’

Caroline gave Gavin a warning look.

‘And what are your plans, Marcus?’ asked Gavin.

‘Any job that pays pots of money, I should think. Cosmetic
surgery
seems to be the thing.’

‘Nice to have a vocation.’

‘Oh, er, very good, yes. I suppose I asked for that.’ He turned to Caroline. ‘Carrie darling, I simply must go and say hello to Katrina …’

‘Am I in for a bollocking?’ asked Gavin, staring straight ahead as Marcus left them.