Ken McClure - Hypocrite's Isle

‘Same as before. I take it the hospital will be doing another scan next week?’

‘You bet. They’ve never seen anything like it. One of the nurses said they were going to change the name of the place to Lourdes General.’

Gavin laughed, and Caroline said, ‘It’s been such a long time since I heard you laugh.’

‘It’s good to have reason to.’

‘Dad can’t wait to meet you.’

‘Let’s wait until your mum’s better.’

‘If you say so, but I’d sort of like to see you myself. Maybe I could come up for a couple of days?’

‘That would be great.’

Caroline came up for the Tuesday and Wednesday, and returned home on the Thursday so that she could accompany her mother to the hospital on Friday morning. She called Gavin as arranged when they got back. He knew immediately by the tone of her voice that something was wrong.

‘Gav, the tumour’s stopped reducing in size. In fact, it’s grown a bit. What’s happening?’

‘Oh, shit,’ said Gavin, feeling lead fill his veins. ‘Either the Valdevan didn’t reach all of the tumour cells or some of them have recovered. Either way, the polymyxin isn’t killing them any more.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘We give your mother more Valdevan...’ said Gavin, but his voice had taken on the tone of a distant automaton.

‘But there isn’t enough,’ said Caroline, before realising she was saying what Gavin already knew. Her voice betrayed the hopelessness she now felt. ‘There’s only enough left for a couple of days, not fourteen.’

‘I’m so sorry, Carrie, we only had the one chance.’

‘So Mum’s going to die after all?’

‘There was always that risk.’

‘Oh, Gav... I’m sorry, I can’t speak any more right now...’

The phone went dead, leaving Gavin looking at the wall. All the euphoria felt by Carrie’s family and shared by him had gone... to be replaced by what? This didn’t bear thinking about. Hero to zero didn’t come close. He caught sight of the Nature paper sitting on his bedside table and, to compound his misery, admitted to himself for the first time that it was never going to see the light of day.

Gavin couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad before. He couldn’t find one single thing to feel good about, or offer anything resembling hope. His life had become an endless desert of unhappiness with nothing appearing on any horizon... until it occurred to him that Grumman Schalk might not actually know about the university machinations to neutralise Frank Simmons. After all, it wasn’t something they’d brag about openly.

Gavin rummaged through his notebooks until he found something with a Grumman Schalk letterhead on it. Ironically, it was a copy of the covering letter that had come with the first consignment of Valdevan and had the words ‘not for therapeutic use’ in it. He took the phone number from the heading and called Max Ehrman.

‘Who?’ exclaimed Ehrman, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

‘Gavin Donnelly, in Edinburgh.’

‘What can I do for you?’ came the guarded response.

‘You can send me some Valdevan.’

Ehrman let out a snort of disbelief, but let a moment pass before saying, ‘I seem to remember making it quite clear that there would be no more Valdevan for a line of research the company feels uncomfortable with. That still stands.’

‘I’m offering you a deal.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Hear me out. It’s my guess that you guys are trying every trick in the book to come up with a new product that simulates the sequential action of Valdevan and polymyxin — one that you can patent?’

Silence.

‘But unless you get really lucky, that’s going to take time,’ continued Gavin. ‘When our paper creates the stir you know it must, your efforts will have been wasted and public opinion will force Valdevan back into production by anyone who cares to make it, now that your patent’s expired. Whatever way you look at it, you’re going to take a mega-buck hit.’

‘You’ve got quite a sense of your own importance.’

‘The deal is... you give me a supply of Valdevan and I’ll pull the paper.’

‘You’re a postgrad student, for God’s sake. You don’t make that sort of call.’

‘I do in this case. No one in the department wants it published — and you know why.’

Gavin took Ehrman’s silence as a positive. He took a deep breath before planting the lie. ‘Frank Simmons has had a nervous breakdown and won’t be back at work for a long time, but he signed the authorisation before he fell ill. That just leaves me. The paper’s sitting in front of me as we speak, all ready to go off. Now, do I pop it in the post, or do you give me what I want?’

‘What are you up to, Donnelly? What’s this about?’

‘It’s straightforward.’

‘You’re treating someone, aren’t you? That’s it. You’re trying out your crazy idea on someone and you’ve run out.’

‘That needn’t concern you. You give me the Valdevan, I pull the paper. That’s the deal. What d’you say?’

‘And if your highly illegal experiment should work — not that I think it will, mind you — you’ll splash it all over the papers.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Who’d print a story like that? Student cures cancer? Jesus.’

‘It must be someone close to you, right?’

‘Like I say, that doesn’t concern you, so what’s it going to be? A few grams of Valdevan or a mega-buck hit for GS?’

‘In the unlikely event of my agreeing to this, where would you want it sent?’

Gavin swallowed and dared to allow himself a small, inward sigh of relief. ‘Send it directly to me at this address.’ He read it out. ‘There’s no need to involve the university. I need therapeutic grade Valdevan in injection vials.’

‘So you are treating someone. You know, Gavin, for such a bright guy...’

‘I need it in two days.’

Gavin put the phone down and spent a long time just looking at the wall in front of him. He’d played the only cards he had left, and he was bluffing. He wondered if Ehrman would check with the university about Frank. Even if he did, being told that Frank was off work might sustain the lie he’d told. He had two days to tough it out. He called Caroline. ‘There’s a chance I can get some more Valdevan,’

‘How?’

‘It’s a long story, but there’s a chance Grumman will change their minds. It should be here in a couple of days if it’s coming, but there’s no guarantee.’

‘Then I won’t say anything to Mum or Dad.’

‘That would be safest. Your mum must be at rock bottom right now?’

‘You could say. I think Dad’s started blaming me again for giving her false hope.’

‘Shit, I’m so sorry.’

‘Gavin... are you all right?’ asked Caroline. ‘I mean, you sound a bit distant?’

‘I’m just tired.’

‘I’ll bet. I wish I could hold you. I miss you, but I don’t think I can come back right now.’

‘I miss you too. I’ll call you the minute the stuff arrives.’

Two days later, Gavin was woken by the sound of mail coming through the letterbox. His flatmates were all out at work and he had a hangover, but his first clear thought was that the postman should have rung the bell. The package from Grumman Schalk should have been too big for the letterbox, and it should have needed a signature for coming express delivery. Alarm bells were ringing inside his head as he got out of bed and padded across the hall in bare feet to pick up the untidy bundle. There was only one letter addressed to him, but it did have the Grumman Schalk logo on it. He took it to the kitchen table and slumped down, staring at the white envelope for a full thirty seconds before summoning up the courage to open it.