There was a connecting door to Chief Farrell’s room, which was blue and cream to my cream and blue. We walked between the two rooms a couple of times, trying to look as though we were accustomed to this sort of thing, and probably failing wildly.
‘I’ll leave you to settle in,’ she said, opening the door. ‘You’ll find clothes in the wardrobe, toiletries in the bathroom, a selection of books on the bedside table, and water in the chiller. The telephone connects with the nurses’ station. Just press zero.
‘Just the one rule you need to know now. Between 2.00 and 4.00 p.m. in the afternoon, all guests must return to their rooms. It’s OK if you want to doze, and equally all right if you don’t. We call it Quiet Time. Actually, the whole thing is not so much for our guests’ benefit as ours. It gives us a chance to put our feet up, have a cup of tea, write up our notes, and generally catch up. The chimes will sound at 2.00 p.m., so you’ll know. Dr Knox will see you in his office at 12.00 noon. Can you remember the way?’
We nodded. Well, Leon could remember the way. I’d probably find myself on the outskirts of Aberystwyth.
She disappeared and we looked at each other.
‘I do like a place where you have to go to bed at two o’clock,’ he said. ‘I wonder if we could get Edward to introduce the same thing at St Mary’s?’
‘Yes, just what St Mary’s needs – another excuse to climb into bed with each other.’
‘I don’t need an excuse,’ he said, backing me towards the bed.
‘It’s ten to twelve,’ I said, trying to wriggle free.
‘No problem.’
‘Seriously? Less than ten minutes? You think that’s something to be proud of?’
‘Later then,’ he said, reluctantly removing his hand.
‘Yes, right in the middle of Quiet Time – you practising your famous Rebel Yell, I’m going to take my clothes off now. You need to leave.’
He laughed. ‘You really thought that one through, didn’t you?’
‘Later,’ I said, resting my forehead on his chest and feeling his heartbeat.
‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘You promised.’
‘I did, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, you did and I’m holding you to it. Don’t make me come looking for you.’
Well, that could be fun, but probably not here.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Two o’clock. I’ll see you then,’
‘No,’ he said, bending to kiss me. ‘I’ll see you. That’s the whole point.’
I closed the door behind him, opened the wardrobe and yanked out a set of sweats that probably cost a week’s pay.
The end of my world was here and I never saw it coming.
Chapter Eleven
I don’t know what I’d been expecting. A tall, skinny, wild-eyed man with a shock of electric hair and an Austrian accent? In reality, Dr Knox was only just average height, very slight, with dark hair just beginning to be threaded with grey, brown eyes, and an over-tailored pinstriped suit.
He came to greet us and smiled at me as if he knew exactly what I had been thinking. I resolved to be more careful. We shook hands and he ushered us in.
His carefully designed office felt relaxing and reassuring. There was no modern chrome or glass here. A good but shabby, slightly threadbare carpet lay on the polished floor. The furniture was dark and slightly battered, with a couple of carefully distressed sofas. As opposed to my own sofa at St Mary’s, which was not so much distressed as distraught. Open French windows looked out into a small walled garden, and light muslin curtains billowed gently into the room. Nothing bad could ever happen here.
He invited us to sit. Farrell dropped heavily onto a sofa. He was more tired than he knew. I curled up at the other end. Dr Knox began.
‘Firstly, let me say, I’ve known Edward Bairstow for some years now and I know who you are and what you do. We have all sorts of – guests – here. I’ve been told all sorts of things I probably shouldn’t know, by all sorts of people I wouldn’t normally meet. I don’t take notes and there are no recording devices anywhere. After you’ve gone, I’ll scribble a few lines, but that’s only so I can remember for our next session and not waste any time going over old ground again. So, shall we get started?
‘Mr Farrell, I’d like to start with you. Just a quick session today, mostly just admin stuff, a quick history, and a few other things.’
I sat back as he went over names and carefully prepared dates.
‘Yes, that all seems to be correct.’ He tossed the folder on to the floor. That was apparently supposed to be a symbolic gesture. It looked rehearsed to me. I didn’t like this man …
‘So, a medical coma, I understand. What can you tell me?’
‘What would you like to know?’
‘Well, how do you feel?’
‘I’m fine. I still get a little tired occasionally.’
‘I’m sure you do. How are you sleeping?’
‘Mostly, very well. Occasionally …’ He paused.
‘Let me guess. You dream.’
‘Yes, not all the time. It’s not happening anything like as frequently now.’
‘Yes, I understand that vivid dreams are a side-effect, both during and after the coma.’
‘Very vivid.’