Pandora's Helix

Ten

Next morning at ten thirty, Eve Sayers pulled up outside the door of Neef’s cottage with Neil on board. The boy’s face was pressed up against the window of the car when Neef emerged and he broke into a crooked smile. Eve had obviously told him who they had stopped to pick up.

“Hi Tiger,” said Neef, ruffling the boy’s hair as he got in beside him. “I think it’s probably a while since either of us were out on a picnic.”

“Make that the three of us,” added Eve. “Don’t I get a, Hi?”

“Hi, Eve,” said Neef, leaning over to give her a peck on the cheek.

Neil giggled and the tone was set for the day.

“I thought we might go down to Floxton Mill,” said Eve. “Unless there’s anywhere you would rather go?”

“Anywhere’s fine by me,” replied Neef. “I don’t think I know that place.”

“You’ll like it,” said Eve as she turned to concentrate on driving the car. She was wearing a white shirt, denim jeans and her hair fell loose about her shoulders. She had a relaxed air about her that put Neef at his ease. He needed a stress-free day, preferably with no mention of the hospital at all but particularly with no mention of the latest victim of the cancer.

Floxton Mill was just over an hour’s drive from the city and when he saw it, it took Neef’s breath away. It was more picturesque than any place had a right to be. What was more, the sun was shining and there were no other people around.

“How did you know about this place?” asked Neef, his voice full of wonder.

“I’ve been coming here as long as I can remember,” replied Eve. “Do you see that white cottage over there?” she asked, pointing through the willow trees to a small white-washed cottage with a thatched roof.

“Yes.”

“My parents used to bring me there for holidays when I was very little and the mill was still working. We used to come every year for two weeks in July. The mill stopped working about ten years ago and was sold for conversion into a private home along with the surrounding land. I contacted the owners and explained how much the place meant to me. They agreed I could come here for picnics when I felt the need. It’s four years since I was last here.”

“Let’s hope the owners remember you,” said Neef.

“I called them yesterday,” said Eve.

Neef reflected that he should have known Eve would have done that.

“Who’s hungry?” asked Eve.

Neil and Neef put up a discordant chorus of, “Me!” that made Eve laugh. It was the first time Neef had heard her laugh out loud. He liked the sound.

Eve had gone overboard with the food with the emphasis heavily on what small boys would like. This didn’t stop Neef participating with great enthusiasm. When he and Neil had eaten all they could, Neef lay back on the ground holding his stomach as if it were about to burst. Neil decided to do the same and both of them rolled around on the ground as if unable to get off their backs, making groaning noises. Eve pretended to be annoyed which only incited them to greater heights and eventually, gales of laughter.

“I think we should all have a snooze in the sunshine,” suggested Eve. “Give our digestion time to recover?”

“Good idea,” agreed Neef. He lay flat with his head touching Neil’s who did the same, seeing it as a game. Eve joined in and all three lay flat on the ground like a three pointed star. The sky above them was cloudless and the sun warm on their faces. The initial chat faded away until a long silence ensued. Neef was the one facing directly into the sun so he had to keep his eyes shut. This sharpened his other senses. He was aware of the sound of buzzing insects as they passed nearby and he could smell that the grass surrounding the mill had been cut recently.

“Neil,” whispered Eve.

There was no reply.

“Neil, are you awake?”

No reply.

“He’s fast asleep,” said Eve. “He is all right, isn’t he?”

Neef rolled over on to his front and propped himself up on his elbows to look at Neil. “He’s fine,” he assured Eve. “He just ate too much, like me. That was an excellent picnic.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m particularly glad you decided to come along today. It’s just perfect, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” said Neef.

“So what’s troubling you?” asked Eve.

Neef looked surprised. “Nothing,” he said. “What made you say that?”

“Your eyes,” replied Eve. “They’re a dead give-away.”

Neef looked at Eve, preparing to rubbish the notion but her steady gaze made him change his mind. “Do you remember the day we went to lunch at Frank MacSween’s? There was a baby there, Nigel, Frank’s grandson?”

“Of course,” said Eve.

“He died last night.”

“My God, what happened?” asked Eve.

“They don’t know yet.”

“Frank and Betty had gone up to Yorkshire for the week-end to stay with Clare and Nigel. I spoke to Betty last night. The boy was rushed to hospital yesterday afternoon; it sounded like he died within hours of admission.”

“What an awful thing to happen,” said Eve. “His parents must be devastated.”

Neef nodded. “Frank will be taking it really hard too. He doted on his grandson. He’d already built him a gang-hut in his garden.”

“Poor Frank,” said Eve. “Poor Betty, too. She’s lovely.”

Neef nodded.

“So what kind of illness kills a baby that quickly?” asked Eve.

“I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess,” said Neef. “But young children can sometimes succumb very quickly to infection. I suppose this must have been one of these times.”

“Will they carry out a post mortem?”

“Yes, they’ll have to establish the cause of death for the death certificate.”

Eve shuddered and said, “I’d hate anyone to cut open my baby like that. The idea seems so awful.”

Neil woke up and Eve made a fuss of him, teasing him about eating so much. She pretended she could feel each individual item of food in his stomach. “A sausage roll there,” she said. “And another one... and another one! How many sausage rolls did you have?”

“Neil giggled as he tried to defend himself from Eve’s probing fingers. “Help me!” he appealed to Neef.

“I think you’ll have to make a run for it, Neil. Quick!” Neef held out his hand and Neil grabbed it and pulled himself away from Eve. He started to run towards the river, still holding Neef’s hand as Eve pretended she was about to give chase. “I’m coming to get you,” she growled.

Neil and Neef ran right down to the water’s edge and fell down on their stomachs to look down into the slow-flowing current where they lay for a minute without speaking.

“What can you see?” asked Neef.

Neil looked carefully then pointed with his finger excitedly, saying, “Fish!”

Neef saw that he was right. There were three or four sticklebacks darting in and out of the shadows. “Well spotted,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with your eyes.” He looked sideways at Neil while the boy was intent on looking for more fish and concentrated on examining the growth on his face. There was something about it that disturbed him. It was different somehow. He hoped to God it was imagination but it seemed to have gotten a little bigger. Neil became aware that Neef was staring at him. He looked up at him questioningly.

“I think we should have a boat race. What do you say?” said Neef, anxious that nothing should ruin the day.

Neil’s eyes lit up with approval.

“Right then. First we have to select our boats.” Neef reached out and broke off a long reed from the water’s edge. He trimmed it down until it was about six inched long. “Right, I’ve got mine,” he said. “How about you?”

Neil broke off a reed just as Neef had done and prepared it the same way. He nodded.

“Right then, when I give the word we both throw them in and follow them down to the bridge. First to the bridge is the champion. All right?”

Neil nodded enthusiastically.

“Ready, steady... Go!”

Both reeds hit the surface of the water and started to drift slowly downstream, accompanied by yells of encouragement from both Neef and Neil. Eve came down to see what the noise was about. “I’ll judge the winner,” she said and hurried on ahead to the footbridge where she took up stance in the middle of the span, leaning over the parapet, chin on her hands as she concentrated on the imminent approach of the reeds.

“And the winner is... Neil!”

Neef feigned disappointment while Eve cheered and Neil danced up and down in delight.

As they walked back to the rug and the picnic basket, Neil scampered on ahead and Eve said to Neef. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much.”

“Me neither,” agreed Neef, putting his arm round her shoulders. It seemed entirely the natural thing to do. The moment would have been perfect had it not been for an awful doubt he now had about whether Neil’s remission had come to an end.

By the following Tuesday, Neef had confirmation of his worst fears over the status of Neil’s tumour; it had started growing again. Lawrence Fielding had carried out an extensive range of tests on the boy after Neef had told him of his suspicions and now there was no doubt; Neil’s remission was over. There probably wouldn’t be another. Neef of course, had known all along that this had been bound to happen sooner or later but he still felt a great sadness come over him as he realised that now all he could do for Neil was to keep him as comfortable as possible as the inevitable approached. He wasn’t looking forward to telling Eve; she would take it badly. She had become very attached to Neil despite the warnings but with a charismatic child like Neil, it had been almost inevitable that she would. He wondered for a moment if had been wise to allow Eve to start visiting Neil in the first place but the doubt was quickly dispelled by the memory of the two of them playing together on the picnic. It had been the right thing to do. He was absolutely sure of it.

During the course of the morning, Neef heard that Frank MacSween was back on duty. He went down to Pathology just after lunch time to offer his condolences. He found MacSween sitting in his office next to the PM suite. Being in the basement, the room had no windows and was lit by the same daylight fluorescent lights as the PM suite itself. MacSween appeared particularly pallid and a shadow of grey-white stubble covered his cheeks and jowls. He seemed distant and preoccupied.

“I came to say how sorry I was about your grandson,” said Neef. “An absolute tragedy.”

MacSween nodded and Neef noted how haunted his eyes looked. It alarmed him. MacSween shouldn’t have come back on duty so soon. He obviously needed some kind of medical help to get him through the crisis.

“Are you OK, Frank,” Neef asked gently.

MacSween stared at him and Neef thought for a moment that he hadn’t heard his question.

“That wee laddie meant so much to me,” said MacSween. “I know he was only a baby but he symbolised the future for me somehow.”

Neef thought of the hollowed-out hedge hideaway in MacSween’s garden and his plans for a tree-house.

“When I held him it was as if I was holding the life force itself. It seemed to vibrate in him, tingling in his tiny arms and hands. Can you imagine what it’s like to feel that when you spend most of your life touching dead flesh?

Neef shook his head unsurely. He had known that MacSween was going to take the death of his grandson badly but not this badly.

“And his breath. Have you ever smelt a baby’s breath, Mike? It’s beautiful... absolutely beautiful. And d’you know what?”

“What?” asked Neef quietly.

“I killed him.”

“You did what?” exclaimed Neef, totally taken aback by the comment.

“I killed him,” said MacSween. “I don’t know how and I don’t know when exactly but I know I did.”

“Frank I really don’t think you should be on duty. You’ve had an awful shock and you need time...”

MacSween held up his hand and looked Neef straight in the eye. “I’m not out of my mind, Mike. I just know that I did. You see, I had a phone call just before you came in.”

“What sort of a phone call?” asked Neef as MacSween paused and his eyes seemed to glaze over.

“It was from the hospital up in Yorkshire, the one they took Nigel to. They had the results of the PM.”

“And?” prompted Neef.

“Bilateral pneumonia... obscuring extensive bronchial carcinoma.”

“Jesus Christ,” exclaimed Neef. “What the hell’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” said MacSween distantly, “But there’s no way a baby could have inadvertently been exposed to a carcinogen like Melanie Simpson or Jane Lees. The carcinogenic agent must have been still in the girls’ bodies and somehow I must have taken it home and contaminated Nigel with it.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Frank. Everything points to the inhalation of fumes being responsible.”

“Then that must be wrong,” said MacSween.

“But if it had been something particulate, your people would have found it when they examined the sections under the microscope. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No particles. No fibres.”

“This is not a coincidence,” insisted MacSween. “Common sense simply will not wear it!”

“You’re right,” agreed Neef quietly. “But blaming yourself isn’t the answer. He was thinking of Charlie Morse. MacSween didn’t yet know of the confirmation of Charlie’s cancer.” He almost balked at the thought of piling more misery on to MacSween but he felt he had to. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you about Charlie Morse,” he said.

MacSween looked at him strangely as if not understanding the words. “My God, I’d forgotten about Charlie,” he said. “He’s got it too?”

Neef nodded and said, “I’m afraid so. Charlie’s riddled, to use their words.”

“What the fuck is going on?” exclaimed MacSween, his voice a hoarse mixture of anger and frustration.

“We’d better get the Public Health people over here right away,” said Neef. “We’ve got to try and make some sense of this before we have a major outbreak on our hands.”

“A major outbreak of what?” asked MacSween, looking as puzzled as he sounded.

Neef understood MacSween’s dilemma. He had used the phrase without thinking. You had outbreaks of food poisoning, not cancer. You couldn’t have an outbreak of cancer. “To tell you the truth, I’ve no bloody idea,” he confessed.

Neef returned to his own office and called Lennon at the Public Health Service. He wasn’t in the building but on hearing who was calling, Neef was given a mobile number. Lennon answered against a background of traffic noise.

“I think we should have a meeting as soon as possible,” said Neef. “There’s been another development.”

“Another case?”

“Yes, a baby in Yorkshire.”

“Would you repeat that?”

“You heard correctly. The baby was the grandson of our pathologist, Frank MacSween.”

“Bloody hell,” said Lennon. “I can get there about five?”

“That’s fine. We have to talk.”

Neef looked at his watch. It was three thirty. If Eve was in visiting Neil this afternoon, he would tell her about the remission being over. Neil hadn’t been feeling too well that morning. She’d probably suspect that something was wrong anyway. Better to tell her outright. He called through to the duty room on the internal line and asked the staff nurse if Eve was in the unit.

“Miss Sayers arrived about three o’clock,” replied the nurse.

Neef walked along to Neil’s room and paused when he saw Eve through the glass. She was reading Neil a story. He was not his usual self. He was lying quietly beneath the blankets on his bed, his eyes peeping out the top. They never left Eve.

Neef entered the room quietly and approached the bed. “Hello, you two,” he said softly, squatting down on his haunches beside Eve who was sitting on a chair with the story book across her knees. “I suppose I’m interrupting as usual?”

“You certainly are,” replied Eve. “We were just getting to the bit where the wolf starts to huff and puff.”

Neef looked at Eve and saw in her eyes that she knew something was wrong. She was acting a part.”

“In that case, I’d better not interrupt any more,” said Neef. “Perhaps we could have a word before you go?” he said to Eve.

Eve nodded with something approaching suspicion in her eyes. “Of course,” she said.

“See you later, Neely,” said Neef to Neil who blinked in reply.

Neef used the intervening time to tell Lawrence Fielding about Frank MacSween’s grandson.

“There’s something dreadfully wrong about all this,” said Fielding. “Charlie Morse getting it was stretching coincidence to the limit but now, Frank MacSween’s grandson, a baby... Makes you think we’re all at risk... from something we don’t really understand.”

Neef nodded. “If it’s any comfort I feel the same.” He told Fielding about the meeting to be held at five. “I’d like you to be there,” he said. “But not a word to anyone else, a staff panic is the last thing we need.”

“Understood,” said Fielding.

A gentle tap came to the door and Neef knew it was Eve. “Come in,” he said softly.

Eve entered and crossed the floor to his desk looking as if she was walking on burning coals. “Neil’s remission is over, isn’t it?” she said quietly.

“I’m afraid so,” replied Neef. “I suspected it when I looked at the side of his face by the river on Sunday. Lawrence Fielding has confirmed it; the tumour has started to grow again.”

“What kind of a God would let that happen to a kid like Neil? It makes no sense,” said Eve. “It makes you feel that life’s just so pointless.”

Neef nodded and said, “I know how you feel. I’ve been there a hundred times myself.”

Eve looked at him and shook her head. “I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. I really don’t understand how you do it day in day out.”

“Neil needs you now more than ever” said Neef. “Are you up to it?”

“I promised,” said Eve. “It’s going to break my heart but I’ll be there for him every step of the way.”

“Good and I’ll be here for you.”

Eve stretched her hand across the desk and rested it on top of Neef’s. “I think I’m going to need you. I said I’m up to it but to tell the truth, I’m not at all sure. Is there nothing at all you can do to help him?”

“Not in the way of treatment but we can deal with the pain.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way in my life before,” said Eve. “I’m absolutely full of anger and frustration but I don’t know who to blame. I don’t know who to vent it on. I want to hit something or somebody but there’s nothing and nobody. What do I do?”

Neef shrugged and said, “People have to find their own way of dealing with it. I’m sorry. That’s not much help.”

“Maybe I’ll work on my editor. Get him to mount some kind of campaign to raise funds in Neil’s name. I don’t want Neil to be forgotten. That wouldn’t be right.”

Neef nodded. He could feel Eve’s hurt.

“Have you seen Frank MacSween yet?” asked Eve

“I saw him earlier today,” confessed Neef.

“How is he taking it?”

“Badly.”

“Poor man. Did they discover what the child died of?”

“Not yet,” lied Neef. There was no way round it. It was the first outright lie he’d told Eve and he felt bad about it but he didn’t want her to know about the latest developments. He diverted his eyes. He could feel Eve looking at him, wondering, appraising him or was that his own conscience accusing him?

“I’d better be going,” said Eve. “Will you be leaving soon?”

“I’ve got a meeting. We seem to have more and more meetings these days,” said Neef weakly.

“Good night then,” said Eve. “I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

Lennon was ten minutes late for the meeting which Frank MacSween had convened in the Pathology lecture theatre, hoping that it wouldn’t attract too much attention if it was held down there. It was in one of the oldest parts of the building, a semi-circular room with tiered seating almost reaching up to the high ceiling, its wooden benches polished by the backsides of generations of medical students. At floor level there was a blackboard fronted by a long table and a lectern. The room was badly lit by individual bulbs hanging from long cords. The only concession made to modern times was an overhead projector.

“Damned traffic,” said Lennon as he entered. “Sorry I’m late.”

Neef introduced Lennon to Lawrence Fielding and said, “There’s just going to be the four of us. There wasn’t time to set up anything bigger.”

“That will come later,” said Lennon. “In the meantime it’s important we have an exchange of views and information. Maybe I should start by writing up what we know?”

“Good idea,” said Neef.

Lennon deposited his coat and briefcase on the desk in front of the blackboard and ran his hand along the channel in front of the board until he found some chalk.

“There have now been four cases, Melanie Simpson, Jane Lees, Charles Morse and...?”

Neef looked to MacSween who said, “Nigel Barnes.”

Lennon wrote the name up on the board. “Four people who have been exposed to a powerful carcinogen. We don’t know what or where it is but our assumption has been that it was a gas of some sort. This has now been thrown into some doubt.”

“Correct,” said MacSween. “There’s no way my grandson could have been exposed to chemical fumes. He must have become contaminated through me. I must have taken something home on my clothes.”

“It could have been Charlie Morse,” said Neef, realising there was something they had overlooked.”

MacSween looked at him questioningly.

“Nigel came into contact with Charlie at a lunch you and your wife gave a couple of weekends ago. I remember Charlie trying to get Nigel to go to sleep. He was walking up and down with him on his shoulder. Remember?”

MacSween remained silent as he digested this.

“Gentlemen, I really have to point out that you are talking about this as if cancer were a transmissible disease. Cancer is not infectious or transmissible. It’s not something you catch from somebody else. All four people must have come into contact with the prime source, the carcinogenic substance itself.”

“That’s why we are saying it couldn’t have been any kind of gas,” said MacSween. “It had to be something we could have carried on our person or clothes.”

“I agree a gas now seems unlikely,” conceded Lennon. “So what are you suggesting?”

“I carried out the PMs on both Melanie Simpson and Jane Lees,” said MacSween.

“So?”

“I must have contaminated myself with the carcinogen. It was probably in the girls’ lungs.”

“But you didn’t find anything in the dead girls’ lungs,” Lennon reminded him. “There was no foreign material found after extensive microscopy.”

MacSween shook his head in frustration. “There must have been something,” he said.

“I think we should put Charlie Morse into isolation, just in case,” said Neef.

“On the grounds that he might be harbouring an invisible, carcinogen which has given him cancer?” said Lennon.

“For want of a better explanation, yes,” said Neef.

“I agree,” said Fielding. “We can’t take any chances with something like this.”

“Whatever it is,” said Neef.

“That just about sums it up,” said MacSween. “We’ve really no idea. Have we?”

There was silence in the room but it spoke volumes.

“I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of it soon,” said Lennon. “Let’s not be defeatist.”

Neef nodded his head but more through hope than conviction. MacSween just stared down at the floor.

“What do I tell the Press?” asked Lennon.

“I think you’ll have to play that be ear. Try to play it down as much as possible.”

“I suppose,” agreed Lennon. “I wish we could get some kind of a break before they get hold of this.”

“So where is such a break going to come from?” asked Lawrence Fielding.

Lennon said, “If what Dr MacSween’s saying is true and either he or Charles Morse contaminated the baby with traces of the carcinogenic substance picked up from Melanie Simpson or Jane Lees we should be able to find that substance with more detailed analysis and searching. Has Jane Lees’ funeral taken place yet?”

“No,” replied MacSween. “Her body is still in the mortuary.”

“Good,” said Lennon. “And Charles Morse is still alive of course, so we have two chances of identifying the carcinogen. I’ll arrange for a team of forensic pathology technicians to help you, Doctor. They’ll be here tomorrow. I suggest we meet again on Friday?”

“We’ll have to tell University College Hospital what’s going on,” said Neef. “They’re treating Charlie Morse.”

“Of course,” said Lennon. “We need their full cooperation. I’ll contact them as soon as we’re finished here and I think we should widen the scope of the next meeting to include all interested parties of both hospitals.”

Neef was surprised to find Kate Morse sitting in the duty room when he got back to the unit. She wasn’t in uniform but she was sitting behind her desk.

Neef’s first thought was to say all the usual things in the circumstances but he stopped himself. He knew Kate too well for that. He knew she shouldn’t be there; she knew she shouldn’t be there so there was no need to say it. He said simply, “Hello Kate. Want to talk?”

Kate Morse nodded with a slight smile. “You’d think with my background I’d be handling this better,” she said. “I’m not, I’m falling apart.”

“It’s different when it’s your own,” said Neef.

“One minute everything’s normal. Our life is going on as usual then suddenly Charlie’s in hospital and he’s dying. I wasn’t ready. I’m not prepared for it.” Kate put her hand to her head and paused as if trying to put her thoughts in order. “The worst thing is not being able to understand it. All right, I know cancer can hit anyone at any time but something tells me that isn’t what happened in Charlie’s case. There’s more to it. The fact that he has the same thing as Melanie Simpson and Jane Lees suggests that he... got it from them?” Kate looked at Neef as if she had just managed to articulate something that had been eluding her. “I know it’s not possible but I’m scared all the same. Tell me it’s not possible.”

“We’ve been considering that the carcinogenic substance was still present on Melanie or Jane, perhaps in their lungs when they underwent autopsy and Charlie contaminated himself with it while working in the lab.”

“I see,” said Kate.

“They’re going to put Charlie in isolation while they conduct another analysis of the path specimens from Jane Lees”

“How long will that take?”

“They’re bringing in extra help. We should know by Friday. We’ve arranged another meeting for then.”

Kate nodded and said wistfully, “Not that any of it will help Charlie.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Neef. “I don’t know if you know this but Charlie wasn’t the only one to be affected in such a secondary way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Frank MacSween’s grandson.”

“Nigel? Oh no.”

“He died at the week-end.”

“Oh, Mike,” sighed Kate. “How awful. What on earth is going on?”

“I wish I knew,” said Neef.

Neef filled the basket of the percolator with coffee taken from the jar on the shelf above the sink and topped up the jug with water. He switched it on.

“I see Neil’s remission is over,” said Kate quietly, looking at the case notes in front of her.

“Afraid so,” said Neef.

“I’m sorry. He’s a bit special to you.”

Neef didn’t deny it.

“And the trial patients aren’t doing so well.”

“Apart from Thomas Downy. He’s doing amazingly well. His tumour is continuing to shrink.”

“Does that mean the trial is a success or a failure?” asked Kate.

“One out of five doesn’t sound that good but it’s better than none out of five and Thomas Downy’s chances before the treatment were zero.”

“How does Dr Pereira feel about it?” asked Kate.

“I haven’t seen him for a couple of days. He seems to spend all his time in the lab working on new virus vectors.”

“That’s dedication for you,” said Kate.

“He’s dedicated to making himself rich and famous.”

“At least he doesn’t pretend anything else,” said Kate. “That’s something in his favour and if what he does works for the patients, does it really matter?”

“You sound exactly like Max,” smiled Neef.

“He makes a change from traditional British hypocrisy.”

“You sound as if you’ve brushed with authority,” said Neef.

“I saw our Minister of Health on television last night,” said Kate. “I don’t think I’d mind so much if politicians were honest about what they were doing. It’s their constant need to dress up shitty objectives with high-sounding motives that really gets my goat. Don’t you think?”

“I’ve stopped thinking about it,” Neef confessed. “I’ve stopped wasting energy being angry. I fight my corner for the unit and that’s it. My world begins and ends at that door. These are the people I care about.” Neef indicated to the children with his arm.

“That’s bad, Mike,” said Kate. “You should have outside interests. You need outside interests.”

“You’re not the first person to point this out recently,” said Neef.

“Let me guess. Miss Sayers?”

Neef smiled and nodded.

“You two get along then?”

“I think so,” said Neef.

“You only think so?”

“I’m just not sure,” said Neef. “Neil plays a big part in our relationship. It’s hard to define how big.”

Kate said, “I’ve had to revise my opinion of Miss Sayers. I doubted her commitment to Neil but I was wrong. I’m told she never misses a visit and Neil absolutely adores her.”

“She’s become very attached to him,” said Neef.

“Oh,” said Kate slowly. “The warnings fell on deaf ears.”

“With a kid like Neil, they were bound to,” said Neef.

“And now you are starting to feel responsible?”

“No,” said Neef firmly. “I thought about that but I have no regrets. It was good for both of them to have known each other.”

“Good,” said Kate, “I’m sure you’re right.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” asked Neef.

“I don’t think so, Mike but thanks. I’d better get home. Mrs Redpath is looking after the children.”