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‘Oh, I see. I’m sorry,’ Emily said and felt slightly guilty. ‘Has he done the back windows as well?’
‘Yes, even the upstairs. I’ve told him we’re safe here, it’s a nice neighbourhood. But when he gets an idea into his head he won’t listen to reason and there’s no stopping him.’ It was the most Alisha had ever said to her, Emily thought.
‘I understand,’ Emily said. Robbie began whinging. ‘I’ve got to go now, but won’t you come in for a coffee? I know I’ve asked you before, but I would really like it if you did.’
Alisha hesitated but didn’t refuse outright. ‘It’s difficult. Amit wouldn’t like it. He worries about me.’
‘Does he have to know?’ Emily asked. ‘I mean, I’m not suggesting you lie, but couldn’t you just pop round while he’s at work? Or I could come to you?’
‘No, it’s better if I visit you,’ Alisha said quietly. ‘But I can’t stay for long.’
‘That’s fine. Stay as long as you like. I’m free tomorrow afternoon.’
‘OK. I’ll try to come at one-thirty.’
‘Great. See you then.’
And although Tibs hadn’t been found yet, Emily went away feeling she had achieved something very positive indeed.
Chapter Seven (#ulink_fd23b57b-7cb5-5dbb-97a8-9b34fe77a0fa)
That night, Amit sat at the workbench in his lab and looked dejectedly at the dead rat; its pink eyes bulging and its mouth fixed open in a rigor mortis snarl. He couldn’t understand why it and the mice had died. He’d only stopped its heart for fifteen minutes, during which time it had been submerged in ice. Animals and humans had survived much longer than that after accidentally falling into icy water; their hearts stopping as they entered a state of suspended animation and then restarting once resuscitated. In one case, a child had been brought back after being submerged in a freezing lake for two hours with no ill effect, so why couldn’t he replicate that here?
He threw the rat into the bin with the others and dug his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. He stared at the remaining two rats in the cage. Perhaps there was a genetic weakness in the rats and the mice he’d bought, for doubtless they’d been interbred. Yet the other animals he’d tried the procedure on had all gone the same way. He knew from a science journal that dogs in a lab had been brought back to life after three hours following this process, so what on earth was he doing wrong?
Resting his head in his hands, Amit studied his notes and calculations, then opened the cage door and took out one of the remaining rats. It squirmed and squeaked as if sensing its fate. He placed it on the bench beside the syringe that was ready with the solution and held it down firmly. He’d try a smaller dose this time – see if that made any difference. Then he suddenly stopped and looked up, deep in thought.
He’d been stopping their hearts artificially, but of course when a person or animal fell into icy water, their heart was still beating as they went under and suspended animation occurred. Patients who were going to be preserved for cryonics treatment were put on a heart-lung machine until they could be submerged in ice, so they too were technically alive. Was that the answer? Something so simple: the subject’s heart had to still be beating. At what point the heart-lung machine was switched off, he didn’t know. It wasn’t a detail ELECT made public. But it was possible it wasn’t switched off until the person was frozen, so they were frozen alive, although unconscious. Could that really be the solution? If he froze the rat while its heart was beating would that allow him to bring it back from the dead?
Amit temporarily returned the rat to its cage while he took a bottle of anaesthetic from the top shelf of the cabinet and drew some into a syringe. It was the anaesthetic he used on his patients at the hospital and would keep the rat asleep while maintaining its vital signs. He would only need a drip or two as the rat’s body was a fraction of the size of a human’s. If this worked, he’d try the process on larger animals, just as scientists did in lab experiments, before he attempted it on a human.
Opening the cage, he picked up one of the rats – the other squeaked in protest at losing its mate – and set it on the workbench. Holding it firmly by the scruff of its neck, he injected the anaesthetic. Almost immediately, the rat’s eyes closed and it relaxed, unconscious, on the bench. Taking his stethoscope, he listened to its heartbeat and then placed it into the ice bath and began monitoring its temperature. Normal body temperature for a rat was 37°C, the same as for humans. It quickly plummeted to 30°C, 24°C, and then down to 20°C. Circulatory arrest happened at 18°C and its heart stopped beating. The rat’s temperature continued to drop to zero and further still. When it reached minus 90°C, following the procedure used at ELECT, Amit took a scalpel and made a small incision into the rat’s jugular vein and drained off half its blood into a bottle. He then injected preservation fluid into the vein – the same solution used for preserving organs for transplant – and returned the rat to the ice bath.
He felt hot, clammy and anxious, for despite carrying out similar procedures before, if he failed now he’d made the adjustment he’d no idea what else he could do. Failure wasn’t an option.
The rat’s temperature continued to fall down to minus 130°C. It was at this point in the cryonics procedure the body was lowered into the tank of liquid nitrogen and stored at minus 195°C. But Amit waited five minutes and began to reverse the process, gradually raising the rat’s temperature and then returning its blood. At 37°C he tentatively placed his stethoscope on the rat’s chest and listened for any sign of a heartbeat. Nothing. Not the faintest murmur. He massaged the rat’s chest, hoping to stimulate its heart, and listened again. Still nothing. It had gone the same way as all the others! Whatever was he doing wrong?
He stared at the lifeless body of the rat and was about to give up and throw it in the bin when he thought he saw one of its toes twitch. Returning his stethoscope to its chest, he listened hard, his breath coming fast and low. It wasn’t his imagination! He could hear the very faintest murmur of a heartbeat. He massaged the rat’s chest again and listened. Yes, there it was, stronger now. The irregular beats joining to form a steady rhythm. Then the rat gasped its first breath. He’d done it! He’d really done it. He could barely contain his excitement.
But scientists never rely on one positive result, he reminded himself, so he would repeat it on the last rat and then on larger animals. How proud his father would be if he knew his son was about to create immortality.
Chapter Eight (#ulink_b775b523-bc24-5334-9ed3-9d0cab901543)
‘Come in,’ Emily welcomed Alisha the following afternoon as she opened her front door. ‘So pleased you came. I wondered if you would.’
‘Thank you, but I can’t stay for long,’ Alisha said straight away, slightly out of breath from walking from next door.
‘Come through into the living room. We’re in here.’
‘We?’ Alisha asked, stopping still in the hall.
‘Yes. Robbie and me,’ Emily laughed. ‘Don’t look so worried.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Alisha replied and cautiously followed her into the living room. Emily noticed how tense she was, as if attending an interview rather than a neighbour’s for coffee.
‘Do sit down. Make yourself at home,’ Emily encouraged. ‘What would you like to drink?’
‘Just a glass of water please.’
‘Sure?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
Emily left Alisha in the living room perched on the edge of the sofa and went into the kitchen to pour two glasses of water. Robbie toddled after her. Returning, she set the glasses on the occasional table within reach. ‘So how are you?’ she asked.
‘Not too bad, I manage.’
‘You know if you ever need anything to let me know. I’m on extended maternity leave.’
‘That’s kind, but Amit sees to everything I need.’
‘OK,’ Emily said. She took a sip of her water and wondered what to say next. The poor woman seemed so ill at ease. ‘Good boy,’ Emily told Robbie who was playing with his toys, then smiled at Alisha. An awkward silence fell, and then Emily asked, ‘You don’t have children?’
Alisha shook her head.
Another silence before Emily asked, ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a hot drink?’
‘No thank you. Did you ever find your cat?’
‘No. But she’s microchipped and my mobile number is on her collar, so I’m still hopeful someone will spot her and contact me.’
Alisha nodded.
‘I miss her,’ Emily said. ‘She’s like one of the family. We had her before we had Robbie.’
Alisha gave another small nod. ‘I’d like a pet, but Amit won’t have one.’
‘Oh? Why is that?’ Emily asked, seizing the chance to make conversation.
‘He doesn’t like them. Says they carry germs. My immune system is weak, so I have to be careful.’
‘I see. Although I think if pets are well looked after they don’t carry many germs, do they?’
‘I don’t know, but Amit won’t change his mind.’ As Alisha took a sip of her water, Emily saw her hand tremble.
‘So Amit looks after you and treats you well then?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘What does he do in that shed every evening? He’s often still in there when I go to bed.’
‘Research,’ she replied without hesitation.
‘Research on what?’
‘The disease I have. It’s a rare genetic condition and hardly any research has gone into finding a cure. We lost our only son to it five years ago.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’d no idea.’
‘We don’t really talk about it. It’s too upsetting, especially now I’m going the same way.’
‘I am sorry,’ Emily said again and felt even more uncomfortable. ‘Do you have friends and family who can help and support you?’
‘A few.’
Robbie came over and tried to engage Alisha by placing a toy on her lap. She removed it straight away and set it on the floor. Then stood. ‘Thank you for the drink, but I must go now.’
‘Really, already? You‘ve only just arrived.’
‘I can’t be away from home for long.’
Was it Robbie’s presence, after losing her own son? Emily wondered, as she saw Alisha to the door. But if that was the reason for her sudden departure, why come at all? She had known she had a child.
‘If it’s difficult for you to go out, perhaps I could come to you next time?’ Emily offered as she said goodbye. But Alisha was already heading down the path, eager to get home.
Chapter Nine (#ulink_c789afd6-ccbc-5a4e-8b0e-bf411b25f9ba)
‘Fifteen minutes, that was all,’ Emily told Ben as they sat at the dinner table that evening. Robbie was in his highchair.
‘You made a good impression then,’ Ben laughed.
‘I wondered if it was Robbie, you know, reminding her of the son she lost, but I don’t think so. She seemed on edge from the start and when I suggested I went over there next time, she blanked me.’
‘I don’t think she wants to be your best friend Em,’ Ben said dryly. ‘At least you tried. Would you like to hear my news now?’
‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry, I’ve been talking non-stop since you walked in. I’ve been a bit short of conversation today.’
‘I’ve got the promotion – marketing manager for the whole of the South East. It comes with a decent pay rise.’
‘Well done!’ Emily cried, delighted. ‘That’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you.’ Leaning across the table, she planted a big kiss on his cheek. Robbie chuckled.
‘It’ll mean more travelling, but I’ll keep it to the minimum. I don’t intend to leave you and Robbie alone any more than I have to.’
‘We’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’m just glad the company has recognized your worth.’
‘I thought we could celebrate at the weekend. Go out for a meal somewhere nice, if your parents are free to babysit.’
‘Great. I’ll phone them just as soon as we’ve finished dinner. All we need now is for Tibs to return and my week will be complete.’
Ben’s smile faded. ‘Em, you realize Tibs might not come back. I mean, if she’s been run over. She’s been gone some time now.’
‘I know, but at present I’m staying with the hope she’s in someone else’s house.’
He nodded and wiped Robbie’s mouth. ‘Where would you like to go to eat? You decide.’
‘There’s the new Italian on the High Street, or The Steak House – that’s always reliable. Or we could drive out to The Horse & Carriage …’
Twenty minutes later, Emily had decided on L’Escargot, a French restaurant they’d been to once, prior to having Robbie, and had been wanting an excuse to return. Having cleared away the dishes, she went through to the living room to phone her parents to see if they were free to babysit at the weekend, while Ben took Robbie upstairs to get him ready for bed. Her parents’ answerphone was on, as it often was now they’d both retired and were out enjoying themselves. Emily left a message. They’d return her call either this evening or, if they were back late, first thing in the morning. She could rely on them; they loved babysitting Robbie, their only grandchild.
As she replaced the handset, she heard the letter box snap shut. Seven-thirty, too late for regular post. It was probably a circular. Leaving the living room, she crossed the hall from where she could hear Robbie chuckling loudly in the bathroom as Ben changed him. There was a brown envelope lying face down on the mat. She picked it up. It held something – something firm, more than just paper. Turning it over, she read the writing on the front. Ms King, I found this in the road. I think it belongs to you. Signed, Dr Amit Burman.
The formality was weird and why not knock and give it to her in person? Emily assumed it was a small item of Robbie’s. He was always jettisoning his belongings from the pushchair as she wheeled him along the pavement – small toys, socks, mittens and boots in winter. Sometimes she spotted them straightway, other times she found them on their next trip or a neighbour returned them, and sometimes they just disappeared. She supposed it was good of Dr Burman, although it didn’t feel like a sock or toy of Robbie’s. Opening the envelope, she saw straight away what it was. Her stomach churned; she felt sick with fear. Not something of Robbie’s, but Tibs’ red felt collar. Her mouth went dry and her heart raced. No mistake, there was her mobile number engraved on the metal tab and the bell was missing. Tibs had lost the bell a while back and Emily had never got around to replacing the collar.
‘Ben!’ she cried, running upstairs. ‘Ben!’
Hearing the panic in her voice, he came onto the landing with Robbie in his arms half-dressed. ‘What is it?’
‘Look! Burman has just pushed this through the letter box.’ She held out the collar and envelope for him to see, her voice unsteady and her hand shaking. ‘What does it mean and why didn’t he knock?’
‘Perhaps he didn’t want to disturb us. It must have come off Tibs. Cat collars are designed to come off if the cat gets caught so they don’t choke.’
‘I know, but it says he found it in the road. Does that mean …?’
‘I’m sorry, Em, love, but it was decent of him to return it.’
‘But we’d have seen her body. Perhaps she slipped it and is still alive, but why hasn’t she come home? I need to know where and when he found it. I’m going to see him now.’ She tore downstairs.
Ignoring her coat in the hall and wearing her slippers, Emily rushed out the front door and down the drive, still clutching Tibs’ collar and the envelope. A damp November mist had descended, thickening the darkness. The alarm box just below the eaves of the Burmans’ house flashed like a warning beacon. Throwing open their front gate, Emily slowed her pace and walked to their front door. It was very dark here, the light from the street lamp mostly blocked by the large evergreen trees and shrubs at the front.
She pressed the buzzer and waited, the cold and damp seeping into her. The downstairs lights were off and only one shone from an upstairs window, faint behind closed curtains and the opaque film now covering all the glass. She pressed the buzzer again. Someone must be in. Alisha never went out and Amit’s car was on the drive. She glanced up at the CCTV camera trained on the front door and shivered. She should have grabbed her coat.
A light went on in the hall, a door chain rattled and a key turned in the lock. Amit Burman opened the door, the top button on his shirt undone and his tie loosened at the neck. She felt a familiar stab of unease, something in his expression, although she couldn’t say what.
‘I’m sorry to trouble you,’ she began, trying to meet his gaze. ‘You pushed this through our letter box just now.’ She held up the envelope and collar.
‘I did. It is yours?’
‘Yes, but where did you find it?’
‘In the road outside my house.’
‘But you didn’t see Tibs, our cat?’
‘Clearly not, or I would have told you.’ His eyes narrowed to a patronizing smile. It was then Emily realized what she found so unsettling in his expression. His eyes were completely different colours. The iris in one eye was brown while the other was green. ‘The correct term is heterochromia,’ he said. ‘My vision is normal.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she stammered, embarrassed and trying not to stare.
‘It’s not a problem. We’re all different, aren’t we? You told my wife your cat was missing, so I thought you’d want its collar back. She’s resting. She’s exhausted from visiting you.’ He held her gaze, his green eye seeming to bore into her. ‘Of course, she would tell me of her visit. We have no secrets. I’m only concerned for her health and well-being.’ The tone in his voice made it feel like a threat. ‘Is that everything?’
