Through dry lips Emily managed to speak. ‘I’m sorry for turning up like this, but I really need to talk to you.’
‘Well, you’d better come in then,’ he said stiffly.
Emily followed him into the hallway then through an archway to an enormous space, the original size of the barn still obvious. The flagstone floor seemed to go on for ever. Stone walls rose to a height that would be impossible to reach unless you were a wall climber or had a very long ladder. A tapestry, the likes of which you would expect to see in a museum, hung on one of the walls. It was big enough to cover a modest sitting room floor. A wood burning stove was at the far end of the room, its flue rising up the wall, again drawing the eye to the height of the room. Down the end of the room where she stood, a gallery was approached by an oak staircase, the wood shiny and spotless. She held her breath and waited. It felt strange to see the surgeon in his own surroundings. He appraised her and she could see that he too was waiting.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you at home, but I thought it better to talk to you here than at the hospital.’
‘Would you mind telling me how you know where I live?’ His tone was clipped, and she felt heat rise in her face.
‘I . . . umm . . . Your nanny gave me your address. She wanted me to speak to you,’ she finished lamely.
‘Maria? Maria gave you my address?’
She nodded.
He looked shocked. ‘You’d better sit down.’
He stepped towards three massive settees, artfully arranged to face the floor-to-ceiling window which gave an unobstructed view of the land beyond.
Emily was wondering if she could ask for the loo; nerves were making her want to pee.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.
‘A glass of water, please. And—’
‘Up the stairs, first door you come to,’ he said, pointing up at the gallery, clearly guessing her need. ‘The downstairs loo presently has a plumbing problem.’
After using the loo, she splashed her face with cold water and used his fluffy brown towel to dry herself. She felt sick with nerves. In the mirror, her face looked ashen, her blue eyes staring wide. The armpits of her white cotton shirt were damp with sweat and she wished she’d worn darker clothing. The day had built to sticky heat with a storm in the air and she hoped rain would come soon. On the landing she could hear the sound of drilling coming from the floor below and guessed it was the plumber at work.
Dalloway was placing a tray on a low table as she came down the stairs. A glass of water set beside teacups, a teapot, small jug and bowl of sugar. With her attention fixed on him, Emily nearly slipped in her leather-soled sandals and grabbed hold of the banister.
Dalloway looked up. ‘Those stairs are slippery in the wrong footwear. You’re better off in bare feet.’
Emily walked over to him and sat down, and Dalloway placed the glass in front of her. Emily picked it up and took a long swallow and said, ‘Thank you.’
He poured tea for them both and placed a cup and saucer near her. He then sat down on the opposite couch and waited for her to speak. She was reminded of Eric and wished for a moment that he was there to support her.
‘So why did Maria give you my home address?’
She took a deep breath. ‘I think something irregular has happened at the hospital.’
He blinked and pulled his head back sharply. ‘Really?’
‘I think that something has happened to a patient that you may not know about. A young woman. The woman who was in the bed beside me when I was a patient. I think it’s possible that she may have been Maria’s niece, Katka.’
He made a harsh sound and pulled out of his seat, half rising. ‘Good grief!’
‘Please! Wait!’ Emily rose as well. ‘Please, just hear me out.’
He teetered for a moment, then flopped back, his hands raised in resignation.
She pushed on before she lost courage. ‘I saw a woman in the bed beside me. She was small, dark-haired, maybe foreign. I talked to her before I went down to theatre. In the night I was disturbed by noise. There were people, or certainly at least one person, around her bed trying to resuscitate her. One of them gave me something to put me back to sleep, and despite what Sister Barrows said, it wasn’t Diazepam. It doesn’t work that fast. I was asleep in seconds. The next day, as you know, I was told I had been the only patient in that room and even though I knew it to be untrue, I was willing to think nothing more about it until I found this.’
From her bag she took out the tissue-wrapped bracelet and unfolded it for him to see. ‘I found this on the floor on my first shift back, the night Mr Davies’ patient Mrs Harris had to go back to theatre and we were putting the room back in order afterwards.’
Dalloway looked at the bracelet without touching it. ‘Carry on.’
‘When we had shared the room, I had seen this bracelet on her wrist, so I picked it up, put it in my pocket and took it home with me. The next night I intended to show someone, perhaps Sister Barrows, but then we had a chat and she reassured me that I was the only patient in that room. And then a more logical reason came to me as to why I had seen another patient; I should never have been in that room in the first place. I was put there by mistake. So the woman I saw there could also have been put there by mistake. Two patients briefly meeting in the same room because of a mix-up of rooms. I was prepared to believe this is what happened until I met Maria.’
‘So what you’re saying is you now think the patient you saw beside you was Maria’s niece?’
Emily swallowed hard and nodded. ‘Something has happened to her.’
Dalloway leaned back and covered the lower half of his face for a moment. He sighed heavily into his cupped hands, his eyes fixed on her in despair. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve told Maria this? That this is the reason Maria has been avoiding me the last few days? My god, that poor woman . . .’ He stared at Emily in disbelief. ‘She’s been with us since Isobel was a baby! And now she’s thinking that I’ve had something to do with her niece going missing?’
Emily shook her head in denial. ‘No! Not at all. She just wanted me to talk to you. To tell you what I had seen.’
‘And you did, perfectly well, and now Maria has flown home today to support her family, no doubt telling them that Katka has gone missing from the hospital.’
‘But I didn’t say that. I didn’t tell her that’s what happened.’
‘But she now thinks it, doesn’t she? So you must have given her reason to believe it.’
Emily was trembling. This was not the way she was hoping this meeting would go. ‘She said Katka went missing on the thirtieth. The same day I was a patient there. Surely there must be a connection?’
‘Other than the one you’ve already given yourself? The brief meeting of two women. You have no proof it was Katka even if it might be true. Katka may well have come into the hospital, looking for me, and wandered into your room and you saw her. It doesn’t have to mean any more than that.’
‘But she’s missing, Mr Dalloway. How do you account for that? I believe something has happened, other than this simple explanation.’
‘So why bother coming to me?’ he snapped back. ‘Why not just go straight to the police? Because surely you must think that I am also involved? I think we need to pause on this.’ He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck, his shoulders tense with agitation. She realised it was the first time she had seen him out of scrubs or a suit. The casual clothes, jeans and pale blue shirt looked tailored and expensive. She was in the house of someone who was used to the finer things, someone successful and prominent, and he was now walking around thinking about what she had just told him – probably wondering whether to call the police.
She stared at him stunned, her lips tremulous. �
��Can’t you just check it out?’
‘Check out what, exactly?’ he all but shouted.
She shrugged, agitated. ‘Ask the staff what they know. I’m sure Sister Barrows knows something.’
‘Ask them what, Nurse Jacobs? Has a patient gone missing from our hospital? Oh, and by the way, not just any patient, but my daughter’s nanny’s niece? Because that happens all the time, doesn’t it? A patient you personally know disappearing.’ He saw her eyes shoot open, saw her pain and winced. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to remind you of your sister.’
An ache pressed her eyes and she closed her lids to ease them. ‘She’s never out of my mind,’ she said with a teary smile. ‘Look, I’ll go. I should never have come here. I’m sorry I did.’
‘You’re a good nurse, Nurse Jacobs.’ He tutted mildly. ‘I can’t keep calling you that while you’re in my home. You’re a good nurse, Emily, and I can see that you’re upset.’ He slowly shook his head. ‘I really don’t know what to say to you. You do know how far-fetched this all sounds? How very disturbing?’ He saw her discomfort. ‘What I’m saying, and without trying to offend you, is simply that I cannot believe something “irregular” like this has happened, or that it is in any way connected to Katka going missing. I don’t know what you saw, Emily, but I’m not happy that Maria is now involved in this. I have no doubt that her niece will turn up and this will have caused her a great upset for no good reason. What I do think, and I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, is that your sister’s disappearance has left you susceptible to getting caught up in other mysteries such as this.’
She gave a hesitant nod.
He waited for her to look at him. ‘And I have known Sister Barrows a good number of years, and I cannot stress enough that this woman will not have been involved in anything underhand, let alone something as serious as what you’re suggesting. I will not be questioning her. Understand that.’
She nodded more firmly this time, relieved that they were nearing the end of their conversation. She was exhausted, and just wanted to be out of his home as soon as possible. Seconds trickled by, the silence deafening. Then he spoke.
‘What’s she like, this sister of yours?’ His tone was gentle.
Emily swallowed hard, her hand seeking the comfort of the chain around her neck. People so often avoided the subject. They hated mentioning Zoe’s name for fear of reminding her of her disappearance.
‘Wilful, up to all sorts, wants to save the planet and every animal and child with it. Loving, spiteful at times. Selfish when she wants her own way. She has a bit of everything in her.’
He sat down on the arm of the couch. ‘You’re close.’
She nodded. ‘Very. More than most sisters.’
‘Emily, I’m not playing psychologist here. I can only imagine what you’ve been through, which is a great deal. It would not be any wonder that your mind plays cruel tricks on you. It doesn’t make you any less capable as a nurse or as a person. It just makes you more vulnerable. Susceptible.’
Emily stared at him, knowing the direction his thinking was taking, knowing Eric already thought something similar. She pulled on the chain around her neck, her fingers twisting it tighter in agitation.
‘What’s that you’re fiddling with?’ he asked kindly.
She reached into the neck of her blouse and pulled out the silver chain which held a silver pendant shaped like an inverted comma. ‘Yin Yang necklaces that fit together. Zoe had them inscribed with the word “Sisters”. Hers has the last letter missing, though. The inscriber didn’t leave enough room.’
He nodded as if he knew something. ‘A special piece of jewellery, then? Like I said, Emily, I’m not a psychologist. I’m just playing devil’s advocate, helping you consider this from all angles.’
‘Rupert! Why is Isobel making cakes alone? Have you seen the mess she’s—’ The red-haired woman interrupting them abruptly stopped speaking as she saw Emily sitting there. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know we had visitors.’
‘Jemma, this is Emily Jacobs. She works at the hospital and is visiting about a work-related situation. Emily, this is my wife, Jemma.’
Emily stood up to shake the woman’s hand. ‘Hello, I’m just about to leave.’
Jemma Dalloway looked at her quizzically. Up close the woman was rather beautiful, her skin unblemished and flushed from her ride. She was considerably younger than her husband, their child young enough to be his granddaughter. Maybe he had deliberately waited before starting a family, until his career was well and truly established. Another decade and Dalloway would be nearing the end of his career and his young family would want for nothing. The woman’s deep brown eyes were probing Emily’s. ‘Gosh, it must be important to come and see Rupert at home?’
Emily was saved from answering as Dalloway spoke: ‘Emily has been most helpful in bringing a problem to my attention.’ He looked at Emily. ‘Let me show you out. We’ll catch up again in a few days.’ In the hallway, he stopped at a slim side table and opened a drawer. He handed her a business card. ‘My number, should you need to get in touch.’
As Emily walked back to her car she was no less reassured, and worried that Dalloway would phone his lawyer. Maria had come to her asking for help and she could now be in trouble for slander. Maria had gone back home to support her family, but her niece was still missing and despite what Dalloway had said, Emily believed her niece would never return. How could she if it was her in that bed, her they were trying to resuscitate? Her bed empty next morning? Emily didn’t believe she was missing. She believed she was dead.
*
Geraldine had no idea what this interview would bring and was almost tempted, for reasons that were beginning to unsettle her, to ask another colleague to sit in her place. It was four days since she had last seen Emily and she felt bad for the way she’d acted. She was not insensitive but she knew she’d hurt Emily with her sharpness, and Emily was beginning to concern her. She had checked out CCTV footage, got an officer to search for the woman Emily chased, but she hadn’t told her the outcome. That the woman in the leather jacket she had run after had some resemblance in height and colouring but was ten years older than her sister. A full-face image of the woman proved beyond doubt that she was not Zoe Jacobs. Geraldine had thought of ringing Emily and she would have to in the next day or so, but she wanted to let the dust settle first; give Emily time to think things through. She’d tell her when this meeting was over. This unexpected request for an interview had come as a surprise, and for once Geraldine hadn’t suggested they meet up at a coffee shop. She’d requested Emily come to the station. Geraldine had made the trip to Keynsham police station and had been told that Emily was now in one of the witness interview rooms. She had picked the location not for Emily’s benefit, but her own, as she could walk it from her home just around the corner. Her own base, Concorde House in Emersons Green, was several miles down the road. She slipped on her jacket, pondering what was to come.
There was no sign of resentment in Emily’s manner, but she looked nervous and Geraldine spotted the slight tremors in her fingers as she placed her hands on the desk. She said hello and joined her. The interview desk had been set next to a wall, with a recording device and monitor on it, which was linked to a data storage programme called Evidence Works. The equipment was positioned at the end of the desk so as not to obstruct the view of interviewer or interviewee.
‘This will be a digital audio and video recording. I take it you wish this interview to be recorded?’
Emily gave a hesitant nod.
Geraldine pressed the relevant buttons and made sure everything was in order. She then gave the date, time, her name and rank. She asked Emily to state her name; then settled back and asked Emily why she wished to speak to the police.
‘I wish to report a missing patient,’ she said.
An hour later, in the quiet of the office she was using, Geraldine shrugged off her jacket an
d rolled her stiff neck. Her mind was whirring with everything she had just heard, trying to decide what to do and what to believe. In a million years, she hadn’t expected to hear a story like that. But was it a story? At the very least she had to speak with this nanny person, drive to some high-up consultant’s house and check out exactly who the nanny was. She would get her details and contact number from her employer, though she didn’t relish turning up out of the blue with Emily’s theory that someone in the hospital was involved with the disappearance of this nanny’s niece, and it was most likely that she was dead.
Emily had given her the name Nina Barrows, the senior ward sister, as she had felt sure that Sister Barrows must know something. She had also told Geraldine that she had just come from the doctor’s house, leaving Geraldine no option but to act sooner rather than later.
At ten o’clock at night, though, she was making no house calls. Tommy was unwell and she needed to get home, buy more Calpol on the way and relieve her husband for a few hours. He’d had a temperature and had thrown up and now wanted his mummy. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough. Emily had let three whole weeks go by before reporting it and this concerned Geraldine. Why had she waited so long? Waiting until tomorrow wasn’t going to change anything and would give her time to form a plan. She would play back the recording and listen to Emily’s story again, looking for any holes in it.
The other thing she had to consider was that there had been no reporting of a missing patient from The Windsor Bridge Hospital. Which could possibly lend weight to Emily’s suspicion of some sort of cover-up. This was problematic for Geraldine. Was this missing person a figment of Emily’s imagination? She was under enormous pressure. She’d gone back to work – much to Geraldine’s surprise – had an operation only weeks ago, been knocked down by a car chasing a woman she believed to be Zoe, found a note from her missing sister and was convinced she was witness to a patient disappearing, whom no one else would admit to seeing. A police constable had been sent to question Zoe’s flatmates about having her key to Emily’s flat but they’d denied having anything belonging to their missing friend, bar her mug in a kitchen cupboard and a top that one of them had borrowed. Geraldine would dearly love to have a chat with Eric Hudson and press him for an opinion. She would really like to ask him if she should be concerned about Emily.