Neef suddenly realised that she was nervous and it pleased him. He took this as a sign of concern for Neil. “Why don’t you just go right in then,” he suggested.
“If that’s all right.”
Neef nodded. “You remember where he is?”
“I remember.”
Neef followed Eve to the side ward and watched as she entered and said hello to Neil. Neil, who had been looking through a large picture book of animals that the nurses had given him, looked up and stared at Eve. Neef thought for a moment that he didn’t recognise her but suddenly his eyes sparkled and he made a sound of pleasure. He put down the book and looked around for his fire engine. He picked it up from the floor and held it out to her. Eve nodded, obviously relieved and pleased that Neil had remembered. The pair of them settled down to play and Neef left them to it.
An hour later Kate Morse put her head round Neef’s door to say that Jane Lees’ parents were demanding to see him. He asked her to show them in.
“I want to know what the hell’s going on!” said the small, pugnacious man wearing blazer and flannels who entered first. His wife, much more timid in demeanour, trailed in behind him looking apologetic rather than angry. She fiddled with the catch of her handbag that was draped over one arm.
Neef indicated they should both sit down.
Lees sat down but did not take his eyes off Neef. “First the other hospital tells us our Jane has pneumonia then they decide that she’s got cancer and now we’ve had the Public Health at the door asking us all sorts of personal questions. What’s going on?”
Neef’s first thought was to wonder why the hell Lennon had not explained all this properly to the man in front of him. But maybe he had, he considered. “As Dr Lennon probably explained to you, Mr Lees...”
“I didn’t see any bloody Dr Lennon. The wife tells me some joker from public Health has been round. There’s nothing wrong with our house dammit. Who sent him? The wife’s right upset over it.”
Neef looked at the mousey woman who had clearly failed to understand what Lennon had told her. She was looking down at the floor. A visit from anyone saying, Public Health, obviously, in Mrs Lees’ book, implied some criticism of her house and her capacities as a mother.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” said Neef.
“I’ll bloody say there’s been a misunderstanding,” said Lees, launching himself on another offensive which Neef tried to halt by holding up his hands.
“Please, Mr Lees,” Neef appealed. “Give me a chance.”
Lees paused and took a breath. He rubbed the back of his neck and hunched his shoulders a few times.
“Dr Lennon’s visit had nothing to do with any supposed shortcomings on your part.” said Neef. He said it firmly and conclusively and it appeared to have the desired effect. He sensed Lees begin to relax.
“We’re agreed about that then,” said Lees.
“Jane does have cancer, I’m afraid and Dr Lennon and his colleagues are trying to find out how she got it?”
“What do you mean, how she got it?”
“We think Jane was exposed to some highly carcinogenic substance and that’s how she got the disease in the first place. The Public Health people are trying to establish what it was before anyone else is affected.”
“Lees’ eyes opened like organ stops.” He looked mutely at his wife and then back at Neef. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “Are you telling me that Jane’s getting cancer was somebody’s fault? It wasn’t just one of these things?”
Neef suddenly wondered what he was getting himself into but it was too late to withdraw. “We think that Jane came into contact with some gas or chemical that gave her the disease.”
“Gas or chemical?” repeated Lees slowly. “Bloody hell.”
Mrs Lees spoke for the first time. She said to Neef, “You can do a lot with cancer these days can’t you, Doctor? I mean it’s not like it used to be, is it?”
“Course they can,” interrupted her husband, “They’ve got all sorts of drugs these days.”
Neef looked at them both and felt his heart sink. That bloody awful moment was here again. “I’m afraid Jane has lung cancer,” he said. “She has extensive lesions on both lungs. The outlook is very poor.”
“Are you telling us our Janey is going to die?” asked Lees as if he couldn’t believe he was uttering the words.
“I’m afraid so.”
Lees shook his head mutely, his mouth opened and shut without any sound escaping as he struggled to find words. His wife buried her face in a handkerchief that she took from her handbag. Anger surfaced in Lees like an erupting volcano. “If what you say is true, why the hell are the police not out looking for this chemical or gas or whatever it is? They’re covering it up aren’t they? That’s what they’re bloody well doing!” Lees had risen from his chair and was leaning on Neef’s desk, accusing him.
“There’s no question of anyone covering anything up, Mr Lees,” said Neef calmly.
“Then why aren’t they all out looking for it? One poxy drain inspector? A lot of bloody good that is!”
“Dr Lennon is an epidemiologist, Mr Lees, not a poxy drain inspector. He’s an expert in tracing the sources of disease. Policemen aren’t. Dr Lennon came to ask your wife personal questions about Jane because he is trying to establish some common factor between Jane and the first girl.”
“First girl!” exploded Lees. “You mean there’s been another?”
“Jane is the second victim,” admitted Neef, feeling as if he’d just stepped deeper into the mire.
Lees took his wife’s arm and led her towards the door. He opened it and turned round to say, “Do you know what I’m going to do now, Doctor?”
“Tell me,” said Neef.
“I’m going straight to the bloody papers, that’s what I’m going to do. They’ll get some bloody action. It’s a bloody disgrace, kids getting cancer from some bloody gas and nobody’s doing a blind thing about it!”
The Lees left, brushing past Eve Sayers who was waiting there. “Can I come in?” she asked, tapping lightly on the door.
Neef realised that she must have heard what Lees had said. “Of course,” he said.
“I won’t ask,” said Eve.
“Good,” smiled Neef. “How did you get on with Neil?”
“Like a house on fire.”
“Appropriate for someone with two fire engines at his finger tips,” smiled Neef. “Did he like the new one?”
“He certainly did. Can I come back tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
Eve hesitated as she got to the door. “You said something about starting a new Gene Therapy trial this week?”
“We’ve had to delay it,” said Neef.
“Will Neil be one of the patients?”
“No. Neil is in remission at the moment. His tumour has stopped growing so we’re leaving well alone. Apart from that there’s some doubt about whether Neil would be suitable for this kind of therapy.”
“I see,” said Eve. “Just thought I’d ask.”
Neef saw the disappointment on her face. He said, “You’re probably the best medicine for Neil right now.”
“Me?”
“The state of mind of a patient can often be an important factor in the prognosis of cancer cases,” said Neef. “Happy, positive people do better.”
“It must be quite hard to be happy and positive when you know you’ve got cancer,” said Eve.
Neef nodded and said, “Neil is too young to know what he’s got. That’s an advantage.”
“I’ll do my best.”
At four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon David Farro-Jones appeared in Neef’s office. He was carrying an ice box containing the Menogen viruses.
“Well?” asked Neef.
“They are exactly what Max said they were,” said Farro-Jones.