Ken McClure - Pandora's Helix

“I saw them.”

“But I’ve done my best to tone it down for the paper’s version tomorrow.”

“Well, thanks for that,” said Neef.

“I really am sorry.”

“Perhaps I took one hell of a leap onto the moral high-ground if truth be told,” said Neef.

“You were entitled to. There’s one thing I must ask you?”

“What?”

“What will happen to Neil?... you will note I said, Neil, not little Neil or baby Neil.” Eve added disarmingly.

“Neil has a malignant melanoma. There’s nothing we can do for him except deal with the pain and keep him as comfortable as possible.”

Eve paused as if she had found the finality of Neef’s reply difficult to cope with. “There’s nothing you can do?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

“It must be absolute hell for his mother,” said Eve when she had recovered her composure.

“Neil’s mother abandoned him,” said Neef. “He cramped her style.”

“How do you do it?” Eve asked in a quiet whisper. “How can you go on working with kids who are dying, day in day out when there’s nothing you can do for them.”

“There’s actually quite a lot we can do for them,” said Neef.

“But it’s cancer you’re dealing with,” said Eve. “You’ve got chemotherapy and radiotherapy and not much else. Some even say the treatment’s as bad as the disease.”

“There’s also surgery and exchange transfusion and various other techniques.”

“But you must lose a lot,” said Eve.

Neef conceded the point. “Yes, we do.”

“I’m sorry,” said Eve, “I just don’t understand how you and the nurses can bear it.”

“Sometimes we can’t,” said Neef, “We owe it to each other not to show it.”

“We don’t cry out loud.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s a song... Elkie Brooks.”

Neef said, “Look, we’re not saints. We are just well-trained people doing the best we can with the resources we have. I don’t like people glamorizing the staff any more than I do the patients.”

“But it’s not something everyone could do,” said Eve.

“When staff tell me that they can’t bear it, that they want to transfer, I point out to them that the kids they leave behind are still going to die. Wouldn’t it be better if they stuck around and did their best for them? Medicine isn’t just about dealing with curable conditions; it’s also about doing our best for the patients who can’t be cured. If the best we can do for them means keeping them pain free and comfortable up until the end, so be it. We owe them that. But things are getting better all the time.”

Eve took a moment to digest what Neef had said then she asked, “Are things really getting better all the time?”

“Maybe not as fast as we’d like but yes, and Gene Therapy is about to come into its own in the next few years. In fact, there’s talk of us doing a clinical trial in the very near future.”

“But cancer isn’t a genetic problem,” said Eve.

“No, but it doesn’t have to be for Gene Therapy,” said Neef. “The strategy will be to introduce genetic change in the tumour cells which will make them vulnerable to other killing agents.”

“I see,” said Eve. “And you say you are going to be trying this out?”

“It’s possible but nothing’s been decided yet. There’s still some negotiating to be done.”

“But supposing you do get the go-ahead...” said Eve, “Is it possible that Neil might be given this new treatment?”

“Whoa,” said Neef. “We’re a long way from deciding things like that.”

“I’m sorry,” said Eve. “That was unfair and I’ve been taking up too much of your time.”

“Not at all, it was nice of you to call and say what you did.”

“Dr Neef?”

Neef noticed the nervousness that had suddenly appeared in Eve’s voice. “Yes.”

“Do you think I could come and visit Neil?”

Neef was taken aback. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. “Forming an attachment to a child in Neil’s position is asking for a whole lot of heartbreak.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Eve. “I’ve just had a short lecture in how to handle it. It’s just that I think he liked me and if I can play with him and make him smile a little then I will have done my best too?”

“I’m really not sure...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if he’d had a mother or anyone else interested in him.”

“I’ll think about it. Give me a call in a couple of days,” said Neef.

“I will,” said Eve.

Neef did not sleep well. The day’s events threw up a montage of images that haunted the margins between sleep and wakefulness making sure that complete rest did not come. Mrs Torrance’s gimlet eyes accused him; “Going to let her die,” said her husband over and over again. “Just a bairn,” said Frank MacSween as his face materialised from Melanie Simpson’s empty chest cavity.

It wasn’t until the first reassuring grey light of morning sneaked in through the vee in the curtains that Neef fell soundly asleep. Little more than an hour later, Dolly woke him with her paw on his cheek. She had decided that it was breakfast time.

“You look tired,” said Kate Morse when Neef came into the duty room.

“Didn’t sleep well,” said Neef picking up the night report.

“Lisa died at three this morning,” said Kate. “Her parents and Lawrence were with her.”

Neef nodded.

“A solicitor employed by the Evening Citizen called to say that arrangements had been made to transfer Tracy Torrance to the Randolf Clinic this afternoon.”

Neef nodded again.

“Did you see the TV report last night?” asked Kate.

“I did,” said Neef. “I also had a call from Ms Sayers.”

“Who?”

“Eve Sayers, the Citizen reporter who’s doing the story.”

“Hasn’t she done enough damage?” exclaimed Kate. “These people are beyond the pale!”

“Actually, she phoned to apologise.”

“She what?” exclaimed Kate.

“She wanted to apologise for what she was doing to us.”

“Do you think she was genuine?” asked Kate.

“I was suspicious at first but I think maybe she was. I couldn’t figure out an alternative angle.”

“A reporter apologising? Whatever brought that on?”

“I think Neil may have had something to do with it,” said Neef. “She met him during the course of a somewhat forced guided tour I subjected her to yesterday. The pair of them hit it off. She wants to come and visit him.”

“And what did you say?” asked Kate in tones that left Neef in no doubt what she thought of the idea.

“I said that I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“It isn’t.”

“She was persistent. I said I’d think about it.”

Kate Morse’s look said what she thought.

“I know, I know,” said Neef. “But Neil doesn’t have anyone and he obviously took a shine to her yesterday.”

“You’re the boss,” said Kate. “But have you thought how having a journalist like her around the place is going to affect the staff? Everyone is going to be on their guard in case they make some little mistake and find themselves on the front page of the Citizen.”

“I must confess I hadn’t considered that. I was assuming that she would be coming here in a strictly non-professional capacity.”

“At the very least, I think we’d have to be assured of that,” said Kate. “And another thing.”

“What?”

“If she visits Neil and they do hit it off, she has to keep coming back. She doesn’t visit a couple of times and then disappear when the novelty has worn off.”

“Absolutely.”

“Even when the going gets tough,” added Kate with a meaningful look.