I walked past him and strode, alternately whistling and squelching, back along the terrace and through the front door. Faces appeared at all the windows. Without slowing, I took the stairs two at a time, and preceded by the smell of stagnant water and leaving a trail of pond scum, I dripped into Mrs Partridge’s office.
She looked up with absolutely no expression whatsoever.
‘Dr Maxwell.’
‘What ho, Mrs Partridge! Do you have some of those ‘Deduction from Wages to Pay for Damages Incurred’ form-thingies?’
She reached up behind her and pulled one off a shelf.
‘On second thoughts, better make that two. It’s carnage out there.’
Silently, she handed me another. I signed both and cheerfully handed them back to her. ‘There you go. Save you a bit of work later on.’
As I turned to go, the Boss called from his office. ‘Ten o’clock tomorrow morning, Dr Maxwell. My office.’
I was too angry to care.
‘Already looking forward to it, Dr Bairstow.’
I did not slam the door on my way out.
Peterson turned up. I suppose I’d been expecting him. We climbed out of the window and sat on the flat roof outside my room. It was sunny and warm in the evening sun and a million years from the trauma of the afternoon. He cracked a beer.
‘Want one?’
‘God, no.’
I wasn’t going to break the silence, which stretched on and on.
He finished his beer, crushed the can and said, ‘So, it didn’t go well, then?’
I didn’t know whether to nod or shake my head, so did neither.
‘Hey, this is me. Remember last year, when it was you and me against the world?’
I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t want him to go away, so I reached out and clutched at the material in his sleeve. He leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. To all intents and purposes, he was asleep.
I made a huge effort to get on top of the hot rock of betrayal sitting on my heart. Blue sky, white fluffy clouds, birds twittering, distant voices; everyone else’s world was carrying on while mine had fallen apart. There was no movement from Peterson. I went to get up but without opening his eyes, he pulled me back again.
‘Do you want me to kill him for you? I can do it slowly and painfully. He will suffer.’
‘That’s very sweet of you, but I can kill him myself. I’ve already made a start with his car.’
‘Yes, that was awesome, Max. You never disappoint.’
I smiled bitterly, but said nothing.
‘What are you going to do now?’
‘My job. As well as I can. As hard as I can.’
‘Can I do anything?’
I controlled a quivering lip. ‘Well, I have to see the Boss tomorrow at ten. I think we can guess what that will be about. I might need you. Afterwards.’
‘Is Farrell coming back?’
‘Don’t know. Don’t care.’
I leaned back and closed my eyes as well. The sun went down behind the roof parapet and all the shadows inched their way towards us.
Chapter Twelve
Yesterday’s bravado had subsided, leaving a nasty, cold, empty feeling. I really wasn’t looking forward to my interview with Dr Bairstow.
There was no hint of the cosy armchair chat this time. He’d cleared his desk – never a good sign – and stared bleakly at me over the empty expanse. I wasn’t asked to sit. I stood before him, slightly tidier than usual and with a dawning realisation of what I’d done.
He contemplated me silently for what seemed like a very long time. Dimly, in the background, I could hear the rest of St Mary’s crashing through their working day. Up here, in his office, it was very quiet indeed.
After an age, he spoke.
‘When I promoted you to Chief Operations Officer, Dr Maxwell, I confess I did not think it necessary to apprise you of the sort of behaviour I would find unacceptable in a member of my senior staff. That I obviously did need to make this plain to you, leads me to believe I may have made a serious error in promoting you.’
He paused. I gritted my teeth and stared over his shoulder.
‘You appear to have committed a felony, and should Chief Farrell wish to proceed against you, I shall not interfere. Am I making myself clear?’
I nodded, waiting for him to ask that all-important question – why? Because I couldn’t tell him why. I could never tell anyone why.
‘The only thing at present staying my hand is that Chief Farrell telephoned me last night to inform me of your precipitate departure and expressing concern for your welfare.’
I wondered what Farrell had told him. How much did he know?
‘I advised him of the situation here and he is to return either later today or tomorrow, to assess the matter and proceed accordingly.’
I nodded again, waiting for him to demand my resignation. As usual, he read my mind.
‘I will tell you what I told him. I would not accept his resignation, and I will not accept yours, either. I neither know nor care what is happening between you, but you will find a way to work together. That is an order. Am I still making myself clear, Dr Maxwell?’
I nodded again, praying for this to be over soon. I’d had many bollockings over the years but his words were searing my soul with shame. True, I’d annoyed him once or twice, but I’d never disappointed him before.
I focused hard on the wall behind him.
‘Do you have anything to say?’