Chapter Ten #3
It said the message had been delivered. Maybe she wasn’t awake yet, or maybe she was punishing me. I had no mental bandwidth
free to think about it.
Viv was already in the kitchen when I went down, ready to go. I drove us in Mum’s car. We barely talked on the journey. We
never had much to say to each other when it was just the two of us, but the silence was comfortable enough.
Mum had improved a little, the antibiotics doing their work. The nurse was propping her up when we arrived. She told me Mum
had had some episodes of rigor overnight.
“It’s the worst, darling,” Mum said. “You feel so cold, but they take the blankets off you.”
“That’s because you’d overheat dangerously otherwise,” the nurse said. She was taking Mum’s blood pressure. I watched the
cuff squeeze Mum’s too-thin arm. She’d been through so much already. Too much.
“We’ve brought you some pajamas and some other bits,” I said. “Viv packed a bag for you.”
“That’s lovely. I’ll change later. I’m a little tired now.” Her voice tapered off.
“She’s going to need a lot of rest,” the nurse said.
She hooked up a new transfusion of antibiotics and ibuprofen.
Mum shut her eyes. The nurse left the cubicle and pulled the curtain shut, and I let Mum doze while I unpacked the things we’d brought for her and set them up as nicely as I could in the cramped cubicle.
A phone charger, Kindle, ChapStick, some snacks, spare underwear and nightwear, a cardigan.
If they kept her in longer, we’d bring more stuff. It was a routine we knew well by now.
I sat beside Mum. Me on one side, Viv on the other. It was chatty on the ward; visitors gathered around the other beds, but
we were mostly quiet. I drew Mum’s curtain so we were shielded from the room but could enjoy the daylight from the window
beside her bed. I found some comfort in watching the peaceful rise and fall of her chest. Her body seemed less stressed than
it had last night. It gave me a little hope.
I don’t know how long I’d been there when Sid peeked through the curtains gently and said, “Knock, knock.” Mum’s eyes fluttered
open. He’d bought a bar of her favorite chocolate. “For when you feel well enough,” he said.
“Thank you, dear Sid. What are you even doing here?” she chided him, but she squeezed his hand affectionately. He found another
chair and put it beside mine. Viv offered to fetch us drinks from the café. Sid tried talking to Mum, but she fell asleep
again, this time with her mouth open. It made her look older than her years.
We sat for a while before he whispered, “She doesn’t look great.”
I didn’t want to hear it. I never wanted to hear it from anyone else when she wasn’t doing so well, even though I always knew.
“She’s a lot better than last night.”
“Is she out of danger?”
“They say she’s going in the right direction. Apparently the first twenty-four hours is crucial.”
“I need to talk to you about something,” he said. “Privately.”
I glanced at Mum. She was asleep. It might be hard to chat later, with Viv around. She had a way of hovering. “What is it?”
He pulled his chair closer to mine and lowered his voice. He talked urgently and told me what he’d discovered about the Institute.
It left me reeling. I had so many questions. He answered what he could.
I said, “I need to tell you something, too.”
I checked again that Mum was asleep before whispering: “I met my dad. It’s him who owns the manuscripts they want me to study. He’s the bloody benefactor. I went to his house in Cambridge.”
“Cambridge!” he echoed, a little too loud. He knew I’d sworn never to go there.
I shushed him, but Mum stirred. Her eyes opened, and they lit on me.
She smiled weakly. “Did I tell you about the clinical trial?” she asked.
“You did. It’s amazing news.” My stomach lurched. Why was she confused? She hadn’t been earlier. Her head fell back on the
pillow, and she turned her face to the window. Raindrops were slipping down the glass. Her skin was dull and pale, apart from
the bright fever spots on her cheeks and neck, and the damp light washed her grayer.
I met Sid’s eye. We’ll talk more later, I mouthed. I hadn’t yet told him about the pact I’d made with Magnus. It felt as if everything we’d wished for had been
exploded, but Mum was the priority right now. Nothing else mattered.
It seemed to cost her a lot of effort just to move her head. She turned it slowly to look at me, and said, “Oh, yes, I remember
now. You were in Cambridge when we phoned you.”
My stomach clenched. “No,” I said. “I went to London. You just overheard Sid say Cambridge. He was talking about something
else.”
I tried to hold her gaze casually.
I always know when you’re lying, Anya.
She said, “No, my love. You were in Cambridge. I heard St. Leo’s clock chiming in the background when we were speaking. I
know that sound.”
“No,” I said. It came across as meek and unconvincing.
We eyeballed each other. I couldn’t let her know I’d been there. I wouldn’t. I thought she was about to speak when her eyelids
drooped and her head lolled. The oximeter alarm went off.
“Get the nurse! Quick!”
Sid swept the curtain aside. Viv was standing right behind it. She looked startled.
“I just arrived!” she said, as if we’d asked.
Sid dashed past her to fetch someone. I ignored her.
“Mum!” I shook her shoulder gently but couldn’t rouse her. “Mum!” I held her face between my hands. Her neck was limp, and
her head was heavy.
A medical team ran in. I moved aside. Viv stared from the end of the bed. I heard her say, “I’m in the way.” She stepped aside
as everyone converged on Mum.
The medics worked on her, putting an oxygen mask on, running checks, monitoring her oxygen levels until they were back in
the normal range, and after some heart-stopping moments Mum was there again.
“She fainted,” the doctor said. “We’ll give her something to bring her blood pressure up.”
We were always lurching from one crisis to the next. Where Mum’s lymphoma was concerned the ground beneath our feet was never
stable. I found it exhausting trying to keep my balance and stay strong for her.
Her eyes were open again, but she lapsed back into confusion. She was mumbling. Sid slipped his arm around me, holding me
as if he knew I was afraid that I might fall. I felt his heart thumping as hard and as fast as mine was.
We kept vigil beside the bed. Mum was very drowsy. The nurse checked her blood pressure every few minutes until she was sure
it had stabilized. “She’s doing well now,” she said. “We’ll check again in half an hour.” She left Sid and me alone with Mum.
“How long do you think Viv was behind the curtain?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Sid said. “Maybe a while? The way she reacted, it was like she’d been eavesdropping.”
“I think she was just startled when you drew back the curtain. The situation was scary. Don’t you think?”
“I’m not so sure.”
Viv
Viv barely looked where she was going when she left the ward. She was seeking a quiet spot to make a phone call. A recess
where some empty wheelchairs were parked would do. She tucked herself in beside them and pulled out her phone.
Finally, she had information. Anya Brown had met with her father to work on part of his manuscript collection that was up
in Scotland, and she didn’t want her mother to know. Sid was suspicious of Anya’s colleagues. These were golden nuggets of
information, both highly valuable to the Kats, she was sure of it.
Information is precious. Their motto. Her motto, too, since she’d joined the Order.
Her heart was racing. She put her hand to her chest and felt it pound. This was exhilarating, because it had been a long time
coming. Not that she’d minded caring for Rose Brown. Being of service was a special sort of calling, and Rose had been an
uncomplaining patient and surprisingly good company in spite of her views on men and marriage. But a breakthrough like this
was what Viv had been waiting for.
She made the call. When her mentor answered she heard herself gabbling as she relayed everything she’d learned and held her
breath as she waited for the reaction.
“This is excellent work,” Judith said.
Viv had never met Judith, but she liked to imagine that she had a beautiful home, a detached house with a large garden, thoughtfully
decorated. A real home for her and her family. Judith hadn’t told her many details about her private life because the Order
had strict rules about privacy. All Viv knew was that she was married.
As Judith talked, Viv basked in the praise, and her fingertips found her favorite charm on her bracelet: St. Katherine’s wheel.
They traced its small circumference, bumping over the nubs along its outer edge. What comfort it gave her. What strength.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Judith said. “Stay close to them, keep your ears open, and report everything, especially information regarding the manuscripts. Pay extra attention to that, please. I’m going to let everyone know about your superb work. You’ll be very well rewarded for this.”
Her words made Viv feel warm and wanted. She was invisible to so many people, but never to the Order.
When the call ended she made her way back to the ward. Her expression soured as she went. Anya Brown really got on Viv’s nerves.
If Anya were a proper, dutiful daughter, who took responsibility, then she’d stay home and care for her mother instead of
chasing a career. Even worse, was Anya’s attitude to her boyfriend. She didn’t know how lucky she was to have a good man like
him, and it was a disgrace the way she put her career before her relationship. It was Viv’s opinion that Anya should have
modified her ambitions to support his. But it was all take, take, take with Anya. She’d made that lovely man trail after her
in a way that must be humiliating for him. And what’s more, Rose was paying a small fortune for Viv’s services while Anya
was away doing whatever she wanted. Did Anya never think that her mother might prefer to get the cottage roof fixed? Or to
take a holiday when she was well enough?
If Viv had ever had the chance to get a man like Sid, she’d have done everything to support him. He was handsome and clever
and kind. Life with a man like him was all Viv had ever wanted. For decades she’d dreamed of it. Babies. A family. A passport
into the world of married couples. But most of all, a man who she could support and, when necessary, gently guide.
The bones of men are the scaffold on which we hang our power.
Such a powerful phrase from the Order. It thrilled her.
The Order had promised her they would do what they could to help her find a suitable match if she worked hard for them.
She’d simply had bad luck so far, they assured her, but they planned to change that.
Many men became newly available for marriage in their fifties, dumped by selfish, impulsive women who saw married life as drudgery.
Some of those men, sadly, would be snapped up by much younger women.
Everyone knew that, and it was unfortunate for the older widows and spinsters, but it was a part of man’s nature that they simply had to accept.
They would do their best to find Viv a husband as soon as she’d finished this assignment successfully.
She’d reached the door of the ward, and she pressed the buzzer. The plan was to apologize for rushing away so abruptly. She
would explain that it all just got too much for her, that she should have listened to Anya’s advice to rest more. She’d got
emotional, she would say, but she was fine now.
They’d swallow that explanation easily because they thought she was just another middle-aged woman fulfilled by a life of
service. That was fine by Viv. It was the reason the Order was so effective. She muttered another of their maxims as she waited:
“Service is our camouflage. Invisibility is our strength. We build power in the shadows.”
She loved that.
A nurse answered the intercom. “I’m here to see Rose Brown,” Viv said, facing the camera. The door buzzed open, and she entered
the ward.
She was ready to do whatever was necessary. When her mentor had explained what her final instructions might include, Viv hadn’t
balked. As Judith knew, it wouldn’t be the first time Viv had helped someone over to the other side.