A Life for a Life Read Online Free Page B

she said, ‘it’s me, remember? I’m not going to get depressed or paranoid, not now that you’re here…’
    *
    Since it was Saturday, the department was almost empty. Fraser raised a hand in reply when someone called out to him, then made his way down the corridor to Connie’s room. The door was open.
    ‘Fraser! Come and sit down.’ If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn she was pleased to see him. ‘When did you get back?’
    ‘Late last night,’ he said as he sat. ‘Very late.’
    She said, ‘You know about Frances?’
    ‘I’ve just been over to see her.’
    ‘I’m terribly sorry, Fraser. We all are. You know we’ll all do our best for her.’
    He nodded, unable for a moment to speak. She called up Frances’ file on the computer and showed him the results of all the tests they’d done so far.
    ‘She’s young and she’s healthy, Fraser – I honestly think we’ve got a good chance of a cure.’
    He looked at her face; it was a smooth, impermeable mask, showing proper concern and sympathy, but no clue as to what was going on behind it, no opening for what he had to say.
    ‘I wasn’t very happy to find you’d put her on DAP,’ he said. ‘I’d have liked to be consulted.’
    ‘That was out of my hands, Fraser. I did ask whether there was anyone she wanted to phone, and she said her mother.’
    ‘Nevertheless…’
    ‘Nevertheless what?’
    ‘I think I should have been consulted.’ He tried to keep his voice calm.
    ‘It’s not as though you’re her husband, Fraser – besides, I’m not sure I’d have been under any obligation to contact you even if you had been.’
    ‘You know how I—’ he began, but she overrode him.
    ‘So far as I and this department are concerned, DAP is the drug combination of choice. Neither Frances nor her mother made any objection when I explained this to them. Really, Fraser, I’d hoped you’d come back with a more positive attitude.’
    ‘I have, Connie. While I was in America, I did some research and found John Somersby’s original source.’ He leaned forward, ‘He’s assembled more data now and is about to go public with it. Alkovin is a dangerous drug, Connie.’
    ‘Can you give this mysterious source a name?’
    ‘Yes. Dr Sam Weisman, haematologist at Stanford General Hospital, New York,’
    Her expression didn’t change. ‘Have you seen this data for yourself?’
    He took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘I made a copy.’
    She extracted some sheets of paper, unfolded them and put on her glasses…and he found himself thinking, She’s looking older – is it the glasses, or the stigma of being in charge…?
    She quickly scanned the paper, then went through it again more thoroughly before looking up.
    ‘I’d need more than this to convince me,’ she said. ‘I haven’t noticed anything like this level of disturbance in my patients.’
    ‘Why don’t you phone him?’
    ‘I think I will.’
    ‘You notice his findings are in accord with my own observations? In that the effects often don’t manifest themselves until after consolidation.’
    ‘Your own observations, as you term them, were based on an insignificant number of patients.’
    ‘But that’ – he indicated the sheets of paper – ‘is a significant number.’
    She regarded him in silence for a moment before saying, This isn’t really getting us anywhere, is it? Will it satisfy you if I speak to Dr Weisman myself and then raise the matter with Parc-Reed again?’
    ‘It’d make me happier, certainly, but there’s still the question of Frances.’
    ‘We’ll keep a look-out for any signs of depression or any other neurological disturbance, and if they should appear, we’ll treat her with antidepressants.’
    ‘By which time it could be too late.’
    ‘Too late for what?’
    ‘The disturbances Dr Weisman describes are profound and can make permanent changes—’
    ‘What are you suggesting then, that we stop the treatment?’ Her voice became