Lees shook his head silently. His wife sobbed into her handkerchief. Neef pushed the tissue box nearer to her. A nurse came in and nodded at Neef’s questioning look.
“Nurse Lawrie here has organised some tea for you and I think the chaplain’s going to join you to talk about Jane. I think you’ll find it helps. Don’t hold back. Remember the good times you had together, the family holidays, the Christmases, the fun, the daft things she did. Speak about them. That way, you can go on keeping Jane alive inside you.”
As the couple stood up to follow the nurse out of the room, Mr Lees blew his nose loudly and turned to Neef. “I’d just like to thank you for all you did for Janey, Doctor. I think I was a bit out of order the last time we spoke. None of this was your doing and I was too angry to thank you properly. I didn’t really know what I was saying. We’re both grateful, Martha and I.”
“I wish it could have been more,” said Neef.
Neef watched the door close behind the Lees. He stared at it for a few moments, grateful for the silence in the room as he considered what he still had to do before going home. There came a knock. Eve Sayers put her head round the door. “Can I come in?”
Neef nodded.
“I came to see Neil. I couldn’t make it earlier this afternoon. I saw Mr and Mrs Lees out there,” said Eve. “Is it what I’m thinking?”
“Jane Lees died a short time ago,” said Neef.
“The second victim,” said Eve.
Neef gave her a look that questioned her choice of phrase but then considered it justified. “Yes, the second victim.”
“Do you know what really worries me? There’s something out there killing these kids and everyone in authority seems to be sitting around on their backsides waiting for number three to happen.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Neef.
“So what exactly are Public Health doing?” asked Eve.
Neef looked at her dispassionately and shrugged as if he had no heart for an argument. He was still thinking of Jane Lees.
Eve realised that she was kicking a man when he was down. She looked up at the ceiling as if seeking divine guidance. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think. I’ve been getting the run around from the Public Health department all day and I just didn’t stop to think. You’ve had a bad day too, probably a lot worse than mine.”
Neef shrugged philosophically. “I’ve had better,” he said.
“You’ve only had one of my three recipes. Want to try for number two?”
Neef relaxed a little and gave a weak smile. “It’s my turn. Why don’t I take you out to dinner? It’ll have to be out. I don’t cook.”
“Neither of us really feels like going out to eat,” replied Eve. “Come home with me?”
Neef seemed reluctant then nodded his assent. “All right. Thank you,” he said.
When they got to the car park, Eve said, “Leave your car. I’ll drive you home later.”
Neef did not offer any argument. He felt strangely detached from what was happening, as if he had tripped out some emotional overload switch. He was a spectator to what was going on rather than a participant.
They did not speak as Eve negotiated the traffic and drove expertly across town, using the Golf GTi’s acceleration to advantage when small gaps appeared in the traffic ahead. They still didn’t speak as they stood on opposite sides of the elevator as it took them up to Eve’s apartment but they looked each other in the eye rather that at their feet or the floor indicator above the doors. It didn’t feel uncomfortable. Eve’s gaze was positive, Neef’s was slightly puzzled.
Eve unlocked her door. She kicked aside the mail that was lying behind it and led Neef to the drinks tray where she poured him a large gin and tonic. “Drink that,” she said.
Neef downed the gin without question.
“Come.”
Eve led Neef to the couch where she pushed him gently backwards on to it and took off his shoes. “Now relax,” she whispered. “Nothing awful is going to befall you. I’ve been watching you, Michael Neef and quite frankly, you are a fake. You gave me a lecture on how to handle the mind destroying amounts of grief your job entails when the truth is, you can’t handle it yourself. You’ve been pretending. It really does get to you, doesn’t it? I suddenly saw it in your eyes back there. You can’t go on like this indefinitely, bottling it all up inside you, you’ll make yourself ill. You need to talk it out. It’s too much to carry all on your own.”
Neef stared up at the ceiling for a few moments. He said simply, “It used to be Elaine. I could tell her when the going got tough.”
“Elaine?”
“Elaine was my wife. She died four years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I still miss her,” said Neef. It sounded so pathetically inadequate, he thought, to distil all that loneliness and pain into four little words. “She was always there when I needed her and then suddenly, she wasn’t. I’ve learned to cope with most things but occasionally, just occasionally, I find myself in a situation where...”
“You can’t cope.”
“I can’t cope,” agreed Neef slowly.”
Neef closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the couch.
“Well, I’m not Elaine,” said Eve softly, “But you’re a nice man, Michael Neef and if you need a shoulder to cry on, feel free.”
Neef opened his eyes and nodded with a slight smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it.”
“Don’t appreciate it,” said Eve softly. “Use it. Talk to me. What got to you today? Jane Lees?”
“No...” Neef began hesitantly. “I know what’s going to happen to the kids and I can cope with that. I’m prepared. It’s their parents who sometimes get to me. It’s their parents’ grief I can’t handle”
“Go on.”
“It’s as if it’s infectious. More often than not they’re nice ordinary people who can’t understand why it happened to their child. I can feel their hurt and for some reason I can’t fathom, it becomes mine. I know I should be able to stop it happening, put up some kind of barrier against it, but sometimes I just can’t manage. I soak it up like a sponge and it drains me of everything... energy, optimism, hope.”
Neef looked directly at Eve. “Well, Counsellor? What’s the answer?”
Eve stayed silent for a moment while she thought about the question. Eventually she took a deep breath and pronounced, “I think you should run away and join the circus.”
Neef broke into a smile and Eve joined him. “No easy answers,” she said.
“At least we’re agreed on that.”
“How about recipe number two?”
“Sounds good.”
“More gin?”
“Yup.”
Eve drove Neef home shortly after midnight. He had taken full advantage of not having to drive and although not completely drunk, he felt, ‘pleasantly relaxed’ as he put it.
“Have you got your key?” asked Eve.
Neef fumbled in both his coat pockets before holding it up triumphantly.
“What time do you have to be at the hospital in the morning?” asked Eve.
“Don’t worry; I’ll call a taxi in the morning.”
“I can come over on my way to the office,” said Eve. “Pick you up around eight thirty?”
“I can get a taxi.”
“Nonsense. This is all my fault,” said Eve.
“Fault?” exclaimed Neef. “I can’t tell you the last time I felt this good. I’m indebted to you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” said Eve softly. She leaned over and kissed Neef lightly on the cheek.
Neef turned towards her hesitantly and said, “You know, you’re very beautiful.”
“Well, thank you,” smiled Eve. “Tell me again when you’re sober.”
“I’m not dru...”
Eve placed a finger lightly on his lips. “Ssh,” she said, kindly. “You’ve also got something to do about a ghost. Be off with you. I don’t know what Dolly’s going to say when she sees the state you’re in.”