Doctor January (17 page)

‘Afternoon, Tyler,' Hibs said as Beth wandered into the lab. ‘You okay?'

It was nearly lunchtime. Once she'd fallen asleep, Beth had slept through her alarm. ‘Overslept,' she said. Her eyes felt like they were full of gravel and her head hurt. This was nothing compared to the pain she felt inside. But at least now she knew she wasn't going mad. She avoided eye contact with Hibs and shrugged on her lab coat.

‘I set up your cultures for you this morning,' Hibs said. ‘I wasn't sure if you were coming in or not.'

‘Sorry, like I said, I overslept.'

‘I'm not surprised,' he replied. ‘I'm having trouble staying awake nowadays.' He leaned his elbows on her bench. ‘Tell you what, when all this is finished, you and I both deserve to sleep for a week.'

‘Hmm.' Beth examined her lab book and tried to remember what she was supposed to be doing.

‘Beth? Is everything okay?'

She turned to find him watching her, his eyes hooded with worry, and she wondered what he'd say if he knew. It would be so shameful to admit the extent to which he had been right. Hibs was one of the few people who still thought well of her. She couldn't lose him. ‘Yes,' she lied. ‘I'm fine. Thanks.'

Hibs looked like he was about to argue, but his mobile phone rang. He raised an eyebrow at Beth by way of apology and answered it.

When Hibs had turned away, Beth returned to her diary. She'd written ‘black tie dinner with Gordon'. Shit. She'd completely forgotten that she'd said she'd go to this bloody dinner with him. The meal would be okay, but afterwards … What happened when he wanted sex? She thought of their last encounter and goosebumps appeared on her flesh. She didn't want to sleep with him. It was too scary. But could she really refuse him?

She pulled her list out of her pocket. She needed to be sure that she wasn't just being paranoid. First, she needed to check on her bacteria. She grabbed a pair of gloves and set off to the hot room.

Beth found the job vacancies section on the university website and searched for post-doctoral roles in the biology department. Gordon had said it was right in his field of interest, phylogeny, but she thought she'd look at them all, just in case. He'd said he'd just applied, which meant the closing date couldn't have been more than a week ago. She set the search criteria to cover two weeks before and two ahead – four job vacancies came up. She scrolled through. None of them seemed appropriate.

She found the website for Gordon's current supervisor, in case the work there might link to any of the vacancies. No.

Hibs came in.

‘Hibs. If you have the perfect candidate for a job, would you be able to give it to them without advertising the post?'

‘Not here. HR rules. You have to advertise,' Hibs said. ‘Why? Is Roger feeding you some crap about giving a postdoc to someone?'

‘No, just wondered.'

She turned back to her screen. So, no job. He'd lied about that too. She wondered why.

‘Why are you looking for a job in Biology?' Hibs was reading over her shoulder.

Beth shut the browser down. ‘I wasn't. I was just … nosing around.'

Hibs narrowed his eyes. ‘Do you want to work down the corridor from Gordon?'

‘No.' She recognised that look. He was going to start quizzing her again. Ordinarily, she would have told him her suspicions, but she couldn't trust him to be objective. He hated Gordon. If she gave him an excuse to doubt him, he'd jump on it. ‘I'm going for coffee. Want one?'

She returned, balancing three mugs on a plastic tray, to find Hibs pleading with someone on the phone.

‘Please, mate. Greg's not well and I'm working in the lab tonight. I'll do both the classes next week.' He listened, his frown deepening, and then sighed. ‘No, no. I understand. I'll think of something. Don't worry, mate. Give my love to Gill. You have a good time.' He hung up and sighed again.

‘Problems?' Beth handed him his tea. It was nice to see that she wasn't the only one with problems. Since Hibs had split up with Anna, he was getting grumpier.

‘Sort of,' said Hibs. ‘Greg's got the flu and Howard's got to go to parents' evening, so there's no one to do this evening's karate class. And Vik's off at some family do, so I can't palm the experiments off on him.'

‘Ah.' It was Hibs's night on the microscopes. She thought of her planned evening with Gordon. She didn't want to go – perhaps, this was the excuse she needed. ‘I'll do it,' she said.

‘What, take a karate class?' He was smiling at her now. Somehow it made him look even more tired.

‘No, wally. Your evening readings.'

‘That's not fair. It's your night off.'

‘I don't mind.'

‘What about Gordon?'

She shrugged, in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. ‘He won't mind.'

Hibs's gaze explored her face. There was hope in his eyes. ‘You're sure?'

‘Yes. Enough already. I said I'd do it.'

‘Thanks, Beth. You're a real star. I owe you one.' He smiled at her again and looked so relieved she had to fight the urge to hug him. ‘Tell you what, if you can do the ten o'clock reading, I'll do the early-morning ones.'

‘Sure.' Beth smiled back at him. It felt strange, smiling. She hadn't done that in days now. Hibs thought she was a good person. He didn't think she was a useless nutjob. She needed to hang on to that.

And she needed to get on with her list.

Beth stood next to a potted plant as she waited for Dan Blackwood, ready to duck behind the plant if Gordon showed up. She would have preferred to have met elsewhere, but Dan was busy and this was the only time he could fit it in. She could tell he didn't really want to talk to her, but she had been persistent. Through the leaves of the plant, she saw Dan striding out to reception. She stepped out and smiled.

‘Hi, Dan. Thanks for agreeing to see me.'

‘That's okay. It's the least I can do. I'm just going to grab a coffee,' he said. ‘Want one?'

‘No thanks.' She followed him into the big atrium. The Biology building had been refurbished a few years back and now included a small conservatory that served as a coffee shop. She glanced around nervously and was relieved that Gordon wasn't there. He would normally have swimming training about now, but she wasn't sure he even went any more. She had even more reason than Dan to want to keep this brief.

‘I was wondering,' said Dan. ‘Could you sell me some prints of the photo you took? My wife likes it.'

She was surprised that he wanted the photo, but pleased that he thought it good enough to pay money for. It also meant he owed her a favour. ‘Sure. E-mail me what you want and I'll send you a quote.' In a flutter of panic she realised she had no idea what she should charge for them. Not the normal high prices photographers charged, obviously, because she was still an amateur. But if Dan thought the photos were worth paying for … perhaps she should charge something approaching the going rate. How did you decide? Who could she ask?

Dan led her to a table at the far end. ‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?' he said, forcing her to focus on her more immediate problem.

‘I'm here about the calendar.' She put her hand up as Dan started to protest. ‘No, I'm not going to try and persuade you to come back: I respect your decision. I just want to know why.'

‘I told you, I didn't think my wife would like it.'

‘We discussed that before and you were okay with it. What made you change your mind?'

Dan stirred his tea, not meeting her eye.

‘Dan?'

‘You're right,' said Dan. ‘We were okay with it at the start, but I was chatting to one of my colleagues and he said that people were already talking about it and everyone saw your calendar as guys advertising themselves as available.'

‘Okay. Could you tell me which colleague?' She leaned forward. ‘Just so that I can have a chat with them and find out why he thinks that.'

‘Oh, he said his girlfriend wouldn't let him apply to go in.'

Beth breathed out. Okay. So it wasn't Gordon.

Feeling she had to stick to her original story, she said, ‘It's a shame that she feels that way. Could you tell me who they are? Just so that I can set the record straight.'

‘Okay. My friend is Gordon Kettering. His girlfriend is Mila … I forget her last name. It's something Eastern European.'

The words were like ice down her spine. Beth sat frozen for a moment before stuttering, ‘G-Gordon Kettering?'

‘You know him?'

Pull yourself together, Beth. With some effort, she managed to keep her features neutral. ‘I know Gordon. I didn't know he had … a … er … girlfriend.'

‘They haven't been together very long, I don't think,' said Dan. ‘He's only around for a few months anyway, so I don't think it's serious. I don't know much about this stuff, anyhow. Gossip about colleagues is more my wife's area.'

‘Yes. I see.' Suddenly, the little conservatory was too small. Beth stood up. ‘Thank you for your time, Dan. It was very kind of you to see me.'

‘No problem.' He looked up at her through his mess of hair. ‘I feel bad that I pulled out on you. Have you found a replacement yet?'

‘Yes, we have,' said Beth. ‘Thanks again.' She turned and fled before Gordon spotted her there on his home turf.

When she got back to the lab, she phoned Gordon, knowing his phone would be turned off. ‘Hi, Gordon, it's me. I can't come to the dinner tonight. Sorry.' She hung up. It was a cowardly way to do it, but it was the only way she could think of.

She put ‘Mila' into the people search on the university website. There were three Milas, all with exotic-sounding names. One was an undergraduate – she didn't think even Gordon wouldn't stoop so low as to date an undergrad. Would he? She clicked through to the others. One was a lecturer in philosophy and looked to be in her fifties. The other was a research assistant with mousy brown hair and huge eyes. Beth stared at the picture. It had to be her. She was pretty, but nothing spectacular. She thought of herself. Pretty, but vanilla. Yes, this had to be the girl.

She carefully copied down the e-mail address, even though she had no idea what she was going to do with it.

In the microscope room Beth turned on the red light on and waited for her eyes to adjust to the monochrome before uncovering the microscopes. The light gave everything a surreal edge, like she was in a horror movie. She'd been told that spending too much time in it could lead to hallucinations. Beth pursed her lips and grimaced. Lack of sleep, red light. If she was cracking up, there'd be plenty of possible causes.

She held her breath while she took the images and e-mailed them across to the lab. What did she do now? She needed to confront Gordon, but how?

Having taken the photos, Beth backed slowly out of the microscope area and secured the curtain before swapping the red lights for the normal ones.

She was still blinking a little from the shock of normal lighting as she went back up to the lab. Her mobile phone was ringing again and Gordon's name flashed up on the screen. She pressed ‘Ignore' and returned to her work. There were six messages on her answerphone – all from Gordon. They'd been gathering there since six o'clock, which she guessed was when he'd picked up her message. She didn't listen to them, too terrified of his power over her. He had lied to her and manipulated her. She was obviously too weak to stand up to him. She cast a nervous glance at the phone as another voicemail symbol popped up on the screen.

This was a silly way to do things. He would stop ringing in a bit, when it was time to go to his dinner. After a few seconds, the lab phone rang. It made her slightly panicky, but she ignored that too. It was probably Gordon checking to see where she was. She wondered if he was going to the dinner alone, or whether he was going to take Mila as a last-minute replacement. Was Mila the ‘colleague' he'd taken to the opera? How often did he see her? Was that where he was when he was meant to be at swimming practice? Or all those other times when he claimed the biology department had no mobile phone reception? Beth's late-night experiments must have been an absolute godsend to him.

Why hadn't he just asked Mila to go to the dinner in the first place? He'd obviously been showing her off to his colleagues as his girlfriend. Beth frowned. She'd met some of his friends when they'd been going out before. They had mostly been big, shouty men. She hadn't been comfortable around them and slowly she and Gordon had stopped seeing other people. They'd been happy in their own little bubble. Just the two of them.

Her lab timer beeped, making her jump so violently that she banged her knee on the side of the desk. Rubbing her knee, she turned the timer off and limped down to get her samples out of the centrifuge.

The lab phone rang again. It was past nine o'clock now, so Gordon would be at his dinner now. Beth answered it.

‘Beth, thank goodness,' said Gordon. ‘I was so worried.'

She froze, too surprised to hang up. ‘Gordon.' She felt the panic start to gather in her stomach.

‘I've been trying to call you all evening. I tried you at home, in the lab, on your mobile. I was going crazy with worry. Are you okay?'

‘Y-yes.'

He was going crazy with worry? He certainly sounded worried. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe it was all a ghastly mistake. What evidence did she really have? Some discarded wrappers, a job advert she couldn't find, and the say-so of an academic who, by his own admission, didn't really keep up with gossip. It could all be explained away.

‘Beth? Are you sure you're all right? You sound … unwell.'

‘I'm okay. I'm in the lab.'

‘I know,' he said. ‘I'm downstairs.' He was enunciating carefully, as though she were a child. She must sound really spaced out.

She rubbed her eyes. Maybe the lack of sleep and the red light
were
too much for her. Maybe she
was
losing it.

‘So … are you going to come down and let me in?'

‘Uh … yes. Just a minute.'

She always took the stairs down when she was alone in the building – she didn't want to take the lift in case it got stuck – and her footsteps echoed weirdly up the stairwell.

Through the window of the second security door, she could see Gordon. He was wearing black tie and he smiled and waved when he saw her. Beth waved back. The last of the day's light was fading and Gordon, standing in the suffused light from the glass entranceway, glowed. He always looked amazing in a tuxedo. The twinge of pleasure she felt was almost automatic and the unease that followed was unusual. She hesitated. Should she let him in? She reminded herself that she had overreacted before and that it was ridiculous to do so again. Beth pushed the button to open the first security door and checked she had her ID card in her pocket to let them back in again. It wouldn't do to lock herself out.

Gordon peered in through the glass at the end of the corridor. She caught sight of his eyes and suddenly she was afraid. She took a step backward and Gordon waved again. Beth's heartbeat got louder. Hairs at the back of her neck stood up. She should go back. He'd tried to suffocate her. He'd lied to her. She should stay away. But Gordon's gaze locked with hers and she couldn't leave. It was hypnotic – like he'd conditioned her to respond to him. She felt herself inching forward, her arm outstretched to push the door release, as though he were a magnet and she a speck of iron. Her fingers reached the button and she heard the click as the lock released.

Gordon seemed to enter shoulders first, expanding to fill the space, like a spider emerging from a crack. As soon as he was in the door, his face changed. He loomed above her. His shoulders were still broad, but there was nothing comforting about them. ‘What the fuck are you playing at?' he roared, veins standing out in his neck. ‘You left me standing there, waiting for you, like a lemon.'

Beth backed away. ‘I-I'm sorry.' Her voice was a squeak. He was bloody huge. Of course he could suffocate her if he'd wanted to. She was an idiot to have believed anything else.

‘Sorry? SORRY? This is the second time you've stood me up you fucking feckless bitch.' His voice thundered, filling the claustrophobia-inducing space. Beth glanced to the CCTV camera mounted above the door. It was behind Gordon. If he killed her here, all they'd have is a picture of his back. What good would that be? Her hand stretched out behind her: if she could touch her ID card to the reader, the door would open. It wouldn't give her a lot of time, but at least she would have somewhere to run.

Gordon's gaze flicked to her hand. ‘Oh no you don't.' He lunged towards her but Beth twisted and ducked. The card made contact with the reader and the door mechanism whirred. Gordon grabbed her hand and wrenched her around. His arm came in front of her face. In sheer panic, Beth bit him. His arm moved fast, but her teeth grazed it. He swore. She twisted out of his grip and slipped sideways through the still-opening door. She was much smaller than he was and it would take a few more seconds before he could get his big shoulders through. She raced to the lift and stabbed the button frantically. Gordon burst through the doors just as the lift closed. Beth watched the floors tick by. Would he run up the stairs and catch her at the top? Hibs and Vik often tried to race the lift but neither of them ever made it. Would Gordon, in his rage, be faster than they were?

The lift doors pinged open. There was nobody in the lobby. Without waiting to check the stairs, Beth raced to the door to the lab and punched in the code. She had to hold her breath and pray that her hands were steady enough to get the numbers right. The door clicked open. She slipped in and shut it behind her. She retreated down the corridor until she was in the lab, breathing fast. She knew the number for campus security was on the wall, beside the phone. She could call them if he turned up. But what would she say? Her boyfriend was coming? She stood there, panting. Still no one.

She swallowed the rising panic and tried to force herself to breathe properly. Okay. Think. Think. He wasn't coming after her yet. What was he doing? He was already in the building. Was there any way he could get onto this floor? There were other labs up here. Anyone who worked in them would be able to let him in. Did he know any of them? They would have seen him with her and if he told them he was here to see her, they might let him in.

Beth backed into the lab. What should she do? Pulling out her mobile, she called Hibs. His phone went straight to answerphone and panic clawed up Beth's throat again. ‘Hibs, it's me. I'm scared.' She fought down the panic: she needed to focus. What did she need to tell him? ‘I'm in the lab. Gordon's outside. I'm scared he might …' He might what? ‘I'm just scared. Come and get me. Please.' Her voice rose to a squeak at the end. She held the phone to her ear, willing him to come on the line, until the answerphone beeped again and she was cut off.

She went to the middle of the lab and looked at the windows, eyes darting from one to the next. It was dark outside and there were no lights on in the building opposite. Maybe if she pretended she wasn't here, even if Gordon got to her floor, he might think she'd gone home. She turned lights off and backed down the lab. At the end of Vik's bench there was a metal clamp stand with several clamps attached. She unscrewed one and hefted it in her hand. It was long and sharp in places, but not very heavy. After a second's thought, she unscrewed the rest of the clamps and picked up the stand itself. Heavy. And long. If she swung it and managed to make contact, that would hurt. She turned off the rest of the lights and crouched down in the shadow on the nitrogen cylinders, so that she could see the door.

It felt like she'd been waiting for years. Her legs were protesting and her back was going stiff from tension. At the click and the
schlup
of the security door opening, all aches were forgotten and Beth gripped the clamp stand with both hands, pressing against the wall to stay hidden. Footsteps in the corridor. Quick strides. No hesitation. Had Gordon found a way in? Beth's jaw throbbed with tension. Someone came into the lab and flicked on the lights.

She tensed, getting ready to strike out. The figure turned and spotted her. She raised the clamp stand to shoulder height.

‘Beth?' It wasn't Gordon's voice.

For a moment her brain froze, unable to recognise anything. Then relief. Overwhelming, body-draining, blessed relief. ‘Hibs.' Thank goodness. The clamp stand clattered at her feet. Hibs turned, automatically going into a ready stance.

She threw herself into him. ‘Hibs. Oh god, it's you.'

‘Hey.' His arms closed around her. ‘It's okay.'

Beth shook her head and realised she was shaking all over. ‘I thought you were Gordon. I didn't want to go home, in case he was waiting for me. I was worried he'd get in and …' The tears suddenly broke through. She put her head against his shoulder and sobbed.

Hibs's arms stayed loosely wrapped around her for a moment before they tightened, drawing her close. He stroked her hair and repeated, ‘It's okay, it's okay,' until the worst passed. It took a few minutes before Beth was able to appreciate the gesture. Hibs. Her friend who was always there for her. Right now there was no one else who could make her feel safer. Thank heavens for Hibs. Finally, her tears almost spent, Beth sniffed and raised her face.

‘Want to tell me what happened?' He was still holding her. She realised she didn't want him to let go.

‘I was supposed to be at a dinner with Gordon.'

‘Why did you offer to swap with me if you had to be somewhere?'

‘I didn't want to go.' Beth wiped her hand across her face.

Hibs frowned. ‘Okay. I won't ask. I guess that's between you and Gordon.'

Beth sniffed again and Hibs moved away to fetch a length of blue paper towel from above the sink. Immediately, she felt the chill of his absence. She took the tissue paper from him and blew her nose.

‘Wait.' Hibs took her arm and turned the wrist over. An angry red weal was developing where she'd twisted out of Gordon's grip. ‘Did Gordon do that to you?' Beth nodded and stared at her wrist. How had she not noticed the pain before? Hibs ran a finger next to the bruise. ‘Can you move your wrist properly?'

She put the wrist through its range of movement and winced. ‘I can manage,' she said.

‘Let's get some ice on that. Here, sit down.' He took her over to the desk area and motioned for her to sit, and then he picked up an ice bucket from the lab. ‘Stay there,' he said. ‘I'll be two seconds. If Gordon turns up, I'll brain him with the ice bucket on my way back. Okay?'

She managed a little smile. Now that someone else was here, some of the adrenaline that had been keeping her upright sagged out of her. She leaned back in the chair and tipped her head back. Her legs felt wobbly. Hearing Hibs come back, she looked at the door. He was in his karate clothes, with a denim jacket thrown over them, pouring ice into a latex glove. The whole thing looked weird, but somehow that made her feel better.

He hunkered down in front of her and wrapped the ice-filled glove round her wrist. ‘There we go. That should help with the swelling.' He looked up at her, his face full of concern. This was what it was like when someone genuinely cared. How could she ever have thought that Gordon gave a damn about her? ‘How are you feeling now? Better?'