Chapter 41
‘I can’t believe you’ve persuaded me to help you do this, Rick.’ Gita’s voice was an octave higher than normal. She pushed her glasses further up her nose and peered over the steering wheel. ‘Michaela’s going to kill me when she finds out and I daren’t think what she’ll do to you.’
‘I know. Thank you for setting it up.’
She glanced across at him, then back at the road. ‘It will only make things worse.’
‘I have to try. I have to know that I did the right thing. It’s the only way I can live with myself.’
‘And going to talk to Cora Diamond, the woman who hates you most in the world, who’ll probably slag you off in the papers five minutes after you leave, is the right thing?’
‘I think so.’ He’d not been able to get what Beth had said out of his mind. ‘If Cora genuinely wants to improve medical services for people like she says she does, then maybe I can persuade her that destroying the surgery isn’t going to help. She can take me to the cleaners, but hopefully I can get her to leave Five Oaks out of it.’
‘I bloody hope you know what you’re doing,’ muttered Gita, pulling up at a set of metal security gates. ‘We’re here. Call me when you’re done.’
*
The flashy, modern, metal-and-glass monstrosity on the banks of the Thames was exactly the sort of apartment block Rick had always imagined a celebrity would own. The heady scent of beeswax polish and lilies filled the approach to the security desk, making even the air he was breathing seem exclusive. The guard removed dark glasses and give him a hard stare.
Rick straightened his suit jacket. ‘I’m here to see Ms Diamond.’
‘This way, sir.’ The guard stood and padded across the marble floor to a lift. He gestured for Rick to enter the small space and then followed him in as the doors slid closed.
Rick hated lifts at the best of times. The movement made his head feel impossibly heavy, and taking each breath became harder and harder. Moments before full-on panic set in, the upward motion stopped and a soft ping sounded. Rick almost fell out onto a small landing before a shiny chrome door.
The guard knocked and then opened the door. ‘Dr Mahon’s here, Ms Diamond.’
A disembodied, husky, soft voice replied, ‘Thank you, Zac.’
‘I’ll be downstairs if you need me.’ Zac gave Rick another hard stare and left.
Rick stepped onto soft cream carpeting and found himself in a huge open-plan space. Floor-to-ceiling French windows ran the length of the room, leading onto a clear glazed balcony overlooking the Thames. Momentarily stunned by the view, it took Rick a moment to register the woman in the white trouser suit near the far wall. She was smaller than he’d imagined. A brisk breeze skipped in through the open casement and toyed with her long blonde curls. She wrapped both arms around her slim frame as if trying to hold herself together. Thrusting her chin out, she said in a soft husky tone, ‘The elusive Dr Mahon. We meet at last.’
He approached, stopping a few feet away. ‘Elusive?’
‘Maybe cowardly is a better word. More fitting for the man who destroyed my son’s life and then ran away.’
Rick stiffened. ‘I didn’t leave of my own accord. You ran me out of town.’
‘I did no such thing.’
‘You and your social media buddies hounded me out.’
Her forehead creased. ‘What social media buddies?’
‘Don’t give me that.’
‘Dr Mahon, I am genuinely baffled.’
‘If that’s true, and I seriously doubt it, then check out The Sal and Ade Show on YouTube. Or, better still, listen to the Find Dr Death Podcast . You can get daily updates from all the random people taking it upon themselves to track me down and discover my hideout. I’m sure you’ll find it very satisfying.’
‘That has nothing to do with me.’
‘Every time you speak out on TV or get interviewed in the papers, there’s an upswing in vitriol aimed at me.’
Her mouth tightened. ‘I had no idea.’
Rick gave a bitter laugh. ‘The stupid thing is despite the abuse, I don’t want you to stop speaking out. If you can improve the provision of better mental health facilities, then you have to keep going.’
‘You agree with me?’
‘Of course I do. You have a platform. You might actually do some good with it. I’d just prefer not to be public enemy number one while you’re doing it.’
There was a silence as she appeared to digest what he had said, then she uncrossed her arms. ‘Why did you come?’
‘I came to ask how Dean is?’
‘Better late than never, I suppose.’
‘And I also came to ask if…’
‘If what?’
‘If you could see your way to letting the surgery off the hook in whatever settlement gets reached in court? I’ll find whatever compensation you win, somehow. But, please, for the sake of the patients and my colleagues, don’t destroy Five Oaks.’
She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked away.
Rick sighed. It had been worth a try. He headed for the door.
Her voice stopped him in his tracks. ‘I thought you came to see Dean.’
He spun back to face her. ‘He’s here?’
‘I couldn’t bear to see him in hospital. I thought he should be back in his own apartment, surrounded by all his things.’ She waved an arm at the three huge flatscreen TVs that made up one wall, with vast couches set around a glass coffee table before them. ‘Somewhere he can see or, at least, hear his computer games. I thought it might help. I’m rubbish at playing them for him and that probably drives him round the bend. Or it would if he… if… I… They say that hearing is the last thing to go.’
‘It’s true.’
Cora pulled at a section of the wall opposite the screens. It concertinaed back on smooth runners to reveal an additional space with yet more windows overlooking the river. A figure lay in a hospital bed, a bank of life support equipment nearby. Dean. A man dressed in scrubs was checking monitors. ‘Pat. This is Dr Mahon. He’s come to see Dean. You can take a break while he’s here, if you like.’
Pat nodded a greeting and left.
Rick approached the bed. Dean wore Pac-Man pyjamas. His hair was brushed neatly away from his eyes. Wires snaked from his chest to the ECG. A blood pressure cuff gripped his upper arm and an oxygen monitor was clipped to his finger. ‘He must be stable or they wouldn’t have allowed him home. That is really good news.’
‘I’m told he’s doing as well as can be expected, but he’s completely non-responsive.’ Hopelessness dripped from Cora’s voice.
‘I wish there was something I could do.’ Rick laid a hand on Dean’s arm, but immediately pulled back as Dean’s skin twitched. ‘Sorry, mate, are my hands cold?’ Rick rubbed his hand together and then stopped. ‘Hang on.’ He looked at Cora. ‘When you say he is non-responsive, do you mean he’s not responding to anything at all?’
‘That’s what I’ve been told.’
‘Are you sure?’ Rick frowned and laid his hand on Dean’s arm a second time. The skin twitched again. ‘Can you remember exactly what the doctors said?’
‘Shall I call Pat back?’
‘No, let him have his break. It’s probably nothing.’
‘Why? What did you see?’
He watched the ECG trace. ‘He reacted to my cold hands, but it’s very minor and that might not be a new response.’ Rick’s medical instinct took over as if he were slipping on a favourite old coat that had hung forgotten in a cupboard for far too long. He pulled a pen from his inside pocket and took hold of Dean’s middle finger. ‘Sorry about this, mate.’ He pressed the tip of the pen down hard onto the nail. Dean’s hand jerked.
Cora cried out. ‘Stop. You’re hurting him. Why would you do that?’
‘It’s a standard test to check awareness.’
She pushed him aside with the fury of a lioness protecting her cub. ‘I was a fool to let you anywhere near him.’
‘You saw his hand move, though, didn’t you?’
‘You made it move. You’re just trying to derail the court case.’
‘I didn’t. And I’m not. I promise. Just because he responded doesn’t mean he will wake up. And even if he does, he will still need care. I fully expect you to go ahead with the case and take everything I have, but that’s not important right now. Cora, Dean responded.’
She frowned, her eyes going from Rick to Dean and back again. ‘What do I do?’
‘Ring his medical team. If they told you that he’s completely non-responsive, then something has changed. Ask them to repeat the cognitive awareness tests.’ He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. ‘This is my new mobile number. Please don’t give it to the press. Call me, day or night, if I can ever do anything for you or Dean.’ He placed the card on a nearby table and left.