Just One Damned Thing After Another (The Chronicles of St Mary's, #1)

‘You’re welcome.’ I took a deep breath. ‘How did you know?’


He sighed. ‘I went to debrief her. There’s something we need to know. Whissell was guarding her. I thought there might be a problem getting her to talk. As it turned out, I couldn’t shut her up. She couldn’t wait to tell me. I don’t know what you ever did to her, but she really doesn’t like you.’

‘How did she know?’

‘She was in the next cubicle receiving treatment. Whissell was with her. They heard every word you said.’

‘Where is she now?’

I thought I might pay her a little visit.

He was evasive. ‘Not here.’

Actually, did I care?

‘So,’ he said, changing the subject, ‘What’s happening in the world?’

‘I’ve submitted a proposal to the Boss and he’s considering it. He wants to see his senior staff this afternoon.’

‘I’ll finish this and take myself off.’

‘No rush.’

A pause.

‘So, how are you?’

I started to say, ‘Absolutely fi–’ and then realised my mistake. I took a deep breath. ‘I’m tired. Really, really tired. Tired to the bone. I’m lost. I don’t know where I am in the world. I don’t know if I’m a hero or a villain. I do know my world is full of grief and loss and pain and that nothing will ever be the same again.’

He nodded.

‘And how do you feel?’

His eyes went dark again. ‘Ashamed. I broke the thing I loved most in the world. I can never get that back.

I remembered again the anger and fear I’d felt with Weasel, the red urge to destroy everything in my path. To assuage my own pain and hurt by lashing out at those around me.

I said, ‘Yes you can. It never went away,’ and sat next to him on the bed. He put his arm round me and laid his head on my hair.

He said quietly, ‘I’m very sorry.’

‘You weren’t yourself. None of us were. I think everyone went a little crazy.’

‘Please, tell me. Tell me what really happened to you, Lucy.’

I took a long, deep breath. ‘I’m not sure. By the time I could understand what they were telling me, it was too late.’

I closed my eyes and talked and talked and pretended not to notice his tears plopping down into my hair.

When I woke, he was gone. I showered and shot off to see the Boss.

Peterson was waiting for me with Mrs Partridge. We went straight in. The Boss sat with Major Guthrie, Professor Rapson, and Chief Farrell. The table was covered with disks, cubes, sticks, scratchpads, papers, files. They had the look of people who’d been at it all afternoon.

‘Good evening,’ said the Boss. ‘As you can see we’ve discussed everything very thoroughly. Gentlemen, does anyone have anything to add? No? Miss Maxwell, there will be an all-staffer at eleven tomorrow morning, at which you will present your proposals. Then we’ll take things from there.’

I was surprised. ‘I think it will be better coming from you, sir,’ I said.

‘No, I want you to do it.’

‘Very well,’ I said.

Bloody hell!

Kal and Dieter came back that night. She thumped on my door. Until I saw her again I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed her. She brought wine and we got stuck in. Unlike everyone else, Kal got everything. Everything from the moment she escorted the Boss to Sick Bay, up until the present. We laughed together over St Mary’s creative disobedience. I told her about the fir cone and we talked far into the night. Finally, I took a deep breath and told her about the clinic. She said nothing but put her arm round me. I rested my head on her shoulder and we both fell asleep.

‘Good morning, everyone, it’s good to see my unit together again. Welcome back to Miss Black and Mr Dieter; a special welcome to our colleagues who have returned from their extended stay in the Cretaceous period; and a very special welcome to Miss Maxwell who has returned from civilian life with the impact of a small asteroid.

‘These last months have been traumatic for everyone, but I do feel we have gained more than we lost. A line has been drawn underneath this period and we are preparing now to move in a different direction. Exciting times are ahead for all of us –’

‘And it’s been so dull up till now,’ muttered Peterson

‘– and I would like Miss Maxwell to outline the proposals for our future role. Miss Maxwell.’

I took my place on the half-landing with trepidation. This was way worse than my presentation at Thirsk.