‘It’s OK, Tim. Just sit for a moment and I’ll make some tea. Or would you like me to fetch Helen?’ Who was going to have some explaining to do.
‘I never thought it would be you two. I thought you two were rock solid. I never thought he would … he could … When we were lost, before you came, he kept saying, “She will come. She will come.” He never doubted for one moment you would come. Sometimes, he said, “If she can’t come, she’ll send.” He believed. And I believed his belief.’
He swallowed. ‘I used to look at the four of us and think about who would go first. Obviously, Markham, because of his hands and then I thought the Chief would be next because he would die defending him because that’s what he does and then Guthrie who would fight alongside the Chief and I would be the last one left and how would I feel? To be alone in that place? But he never lost his faith in you and when we heard your voice over the speakers he sat down on a rock and the tears just ran down his face and he said to me, “I knew she would come,” and knowing you both I would have bet my life that the two of you would be together for ever. And now, not forty-eight hours afterwards, to think … to say those things about you, to say them to you, in front of …’ He shook his head.
I gripped his hand more tightly. ‘It’s nothing, Tim. I don’t know what he was talking about …’
He shook his head again. ‘Yes you do. So do I.’
Yes, he did. As did Barclay, apparently. How? Why was Barclay talking to Farrell? Well, that was easy – she’d be making trouble. More to the point, why would he be talking to her? I was too tired to think about it.
We sat for a long time. I held his hand and gently rubbed his back. He sighed. ‘This is not about me.’
‘Nor me,’ I said cheerfully. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘But shall we go and have one of our prescribed four meals a day?’
‘Why not? Give me ten minutes to wash my face and hands.’ I didn’t need ten minutes, but he did.
‘I’ll see you there,’ he said, getting stiffly to his feet. He paused for a moment. I grinned at him. ‘Get out of here.’
I tried to tidy myself up bit and clattered down the attic stairs to the landing. I was just passing Wardrobe when Whissell the Weasel stepped out and made me jump. I remembered he’d been part of my team in the Cretaceous – the one with the broken nose. It hadn’t improved his appearance any. And I remembered him from my training days as well. I’d never liked him and he knew it. A man who could legitimately describe his occupation as brain donor. I stopped and the small hairs on my neck began to rise. Instinct told me this was not good. Shit, shit, shit.
He stepped up close. ‘Slut!’
Oh God, did everyone in the unit know? How had this got round so quickly? Was this how it was going to be from now on?
‘Moron!’
‘What?’ he said, taken aback.
‘Sorry. Deaf moron!’
‘Bitch!’ Ah, we’d moved on. ‘All these years you acted like Little Miss Perfect. You were too good for the rest of us and now it turns out anyone can have you, Little Miss Slut.’
He grabbed my arm and pulled me into Wardrobe. My face bounced off the wall.
I’d been at St Mary’s for five years now. They’d never taught me to handle difficult personal relationships, but on the subject of attempted assault in any century you care to name – they’d bored on about that for ever.
I waited until he caught hold of my jacket then stretched my arms behind me and pulled away. He found himself holding my empty jacket. I couldn’t match him for strength but I saw a sweeping brush within reach and that, I could do! I seized the broom handle and waded in. They say, ‘A red mist descended …’ Well, it bloody well does. I was so angry. Boiling, red-hot, gut-churning angry. Something burst inside me like an angry sun. I just wanted to hurt somebody and here he was. Legitimate prey!
Eventually, breathless, I stepped back. He was swaying, but still on his feet. I stepped forward and punched him with my other hand, remembering to un-tuck my thumb this time. It still hurt though. He crashed to the ground. I nursed the pain and waited for him to get up.
Part of me was in shock and disbelief. This was St Mary’s for God’s sake. How could this happen? We were falling apart. The damage Barclay had done to this unit ran deep.
Abruptly, Peterson appeared beside me and he really looked like someone ready to do some damage. ‘What the hell …?’