‘No, he’s moved, he got a new job at the University of Dallas.’
‘Dallas is fine. Besides it’s not going to be for ever, Kate, probably a few weeks at most. I’ll be coming too – I can’t give you all the details until you agree, but a number of agencies are working alongside the WHO to respond to outbreaks like this.’
Kate was puzzled. She knew that serious epidemics and pandemics came under the auspices of GOARN, the Global Outbreak Alert and Response Network, which was part of the World Health Organization. This unit was made up of various UN branches, the Red Cross and other non-government bodies. Why were MI6 involved?
‘We need you, Kate.’
She shook her head. ‘We’ve only just got back into a normal routine. No, I’m sorry, it’s absolutely impossible. I’d love to go, and be part of the team that could finally crack Watoto – but I can’t. Please don’t ask me again. I’ll do what I can to help – I can put my research on hold here and work with the team via Skype, or whatever – but I’m not going out there.’
Kate rubbed her finger and thumb into her eyes, squeezing so hard that she saw stars. Once the black spots had cleared, she saw Harley gazing at her, not in an antagonistic way, but thoughtfully, patiently, as if he was waiting for her to say, ‘Oops, did I say no? I meant yes, of course. Let’s go.’
That chilled her, somehow more than if he’d insisted. She had a horrible feeling that saying no wasn’t really an option.
3
Oxfordshire
This is normality, thought Kate the next day as she stood in the rain at the school gates. Her son was often the first one out, tumbling through the doors with his hair sticking up in a tuft at the front, knees grimy and shirt buttoned up the wrong way.
Since Harley’s visit the night before, she hadn’t been able to think about anything except his offer. Her gut instinct had been to say no. After everything she’d been through, she craved a settled life for her family. She didn’t want to drag Jack halfway across the world, or leave him behind and make him feel as if she was abandoning him. But this was Watoto, which she saw as a personal enemy, and if she said yes, she would suddenly have unlimited research resources, and the chance of making the final breakthrough that she and Isaac had been working towards, on and off, for so many years. Then she tried to imagine how she would feel if the team of scientists managed to come up with an effective vaccine for the virus without her involvement – but equally quickly dismissed the thought as selfish.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle poke in her side from the point of an umbrella. ‘Hello, you,’ said a voice.
‘Shelley, hi!’ Kate hugged her friend. ‘How are you? How’s Isaac getting on at the conference?’
‘Good, I think. We Skyped last night. He claims that he misses me madly, but you know Isaac, he’s such a boffin. He can’t get enough of research papers and keynote speeches and whatever else they do at these things. But he was so sweet, you know: before he left, he wrote “I love you” in jellybeans on my pillow. Good thing that Callum didn’t spot it, otherwise all I’d have had left would have been an “o” or a “v” – if that!’
‘Ah, that’s really romantic. He should give Paul a few lessons. He’s so unromantic it’s not even funny.’
Shelley’s blonde hair was all over her face, a shifting mass of curls. She pushed them back from cheeks reddened by the wind. ‘Paul adores you.’
‘I know,’ said Kate. ‘At least I think I do. He keeps proposing to me, so he must do – I wish he’d be a bit more demonstrative sometimes, that’s all.’
Shelley put her head to one side. ‘I’d say a proposal was a pretty demonstrative gesture, wouldn’t you?’
Kate laughed, realising how contrary she sounded. ‘It’s hard to explain. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but it’s like he proposes because he thinks he should, rather than because he desperately wants to marry me …’
‘You’re being paranoid, you daft cow,’ Shelley said, smiling at her.
Kate thought she was probably right. She was looking forward to seeing Paul again, after the night away, but this was tempered by the prospect of his reaction when she told him about Harley’s visit. What if Paul wanted them all to go? He’d probably give her a lecture about her duty to protect the public. And, thought Kate, he’d be right to. I do have a duty.
She must have looked worried again, because Shelley put a hand on her arm. ‘Everything OK, Kate?’
‘Oh, I’m fine … It’s nothing much. Just a boring work thing. Look, here comes trouble.’ She raised her voice so that Jack could hear, as he came pelting through the puddles to fling himself into her arms. He still had a couple of chickenpox scabs but had quickly bounced back to his old self.
‘Mummy!’ he cried ecstatically, as though she’d been away for a month instead of one night. ‘I missed you so much!’
She swung him around, laughing as she kissed his pink cheeks and felt the joy of his sturdy little eight-year-old body in her arms. Having a duty to protect the public was one thing – but what about her duty to protect her son? She’d already failed at that once, and vowed she’d never let him down again.
‘Can Callum come round to play battles?’ he asked, pretending to punch Callum in the stomach. Callum stood next to his own mother, holding her hand. He was shy, small and blond like Shelley, and so different from the stocky Jack. He giggled and feigned doubling up at Jack’s swipe, then whispered in Shelley’s ear.
‘Callum wants Jack to come over to us instead,’ Shelley said, straightening up. ‘Is that OK with you, Kate? He can stay for tea.’
Jack and Callum both cheered.
Kate hesitated. She’d missed Jack and would have preferred him to be at home with her – but she also really needed to talk to Paul when he got home from work, and it would be difficult with two noisy boys charging around the place with wooden swords and shields. ‘I’ll pick him up about seven, then,’ she said, hugging Jack. ‘Be good, sweetheart.’
Kate walked back down the lane from the school, keeping an eye out for the water-filled potholes, her head down to shield her face from the brisk unseasonal wind. She unlatched and swung open the five-barred gate of their rented cottage. Paul’s car wasn’t there, and she cursed softly under her breath. He had been out all day at a client’s office in Newbury, trying to help them identify the source of a computer virus that had wiped out half their data, and his phone was switched off. Come home, Paul, I need to talk to you, she implored the empty space on the gravel. Why did he switch off his phone when she had asked him so many times not to?
Leaving the gate open for him, she put down Jack’s book bag and searched in her pockets for the house keys. She gazed up at the house as she rummaged. It was a beautiful, half-timbered, thatched country cottage. ‘Looks like it should be on a jigsaw,’ Paul had said when they first saw it. If it was a jigsaw though, she thought, it would have a few pieces missing – one of the thatch’s eaves had a chewed sort of appearance, and one of the shutters at the front window was hanging off. Still, they loved it. It felt like home.
Kate let herself in to the living room. The huge stone fireplace that dominated the room looked cold and uninviting with the dead ashes of yesterday’s fire still in the grate. Ridiculous weather, she thought, lighting fires, in June? Imagining with longing the sensation of hot sun on her skin, she went into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on, but even as she was reaching for the teabags, changed her mind and uncorked a half-drunk bottle of Merlot instead. Pouring herself a large glass, she went back into the living room and was sinking into a faded pink armchair when she heard Paul’s car rolling onto the driveway.
A