Anton Fuller is still being assessed when they get to the hospital. A doctor tells them they’re doing a full toxicology screen to try to work out what has caused this reaction and that Anton appears to have had severe vomiting before passing out. He is conscious now but seems ‘confused’ and weak.
They find Gwen sitting in the waiting area with her head in her hands. She looks up at them with bleary eyes, puffy from crying. No sign of Gregory.
‘Have they told you anything else?’ she says by way of greeting, seemingly unsurprised by their presence.
Rose and Adam sit down on either side of her.
‘We’ve been told exactly what you have,’ says Rose. ‘Look, shall we get you a coffee or something?’
Gwen shakes her head vaguely.
‘Mrs Fuller,’ says Adam gently, ‘can you explain what happened?’
Gwen swipes at her reddened nose with her hand and gives a sort of hopeless shrug. ‘This is it,’ she says. ‘I don’t really know. Anton had come back from a cycle, is all I can say. He and Gregory were downstairs in the kitchen. The next thing I knew, Gregory was shouting that his daddy—’ her voice cracks on the word ‘—was very unwell and that I had to come straight away.’ She sobs. ‘I thought,’ she says, ‘I thought he was dying when I first came into the kitchen.’
They give her a moment to cry.
‘The doctor said this looks like suspected poisoning,’ says Rose. ‘I have to ask you first of all if Mr Fuller could have accidentally eaten or drunk something that harmed him?’
Gwen shakes her head vigorously. ‘No, no, no,’ she says. ‘It’s actually something Anton has a bit of a …’ she pauses ‘… thing about. He ate some poisonous berries when he was a little boy – thankfully not enough to be lethal – but he was very sick indeed. It’s one of his earliest memories, being in that hospital and seeing the awful fear on his parents’ faces. He’s someone who checks the instructions on medication very carefully and things like that. He would never make that sort of mistake. Not Anton.’
Rose and Adam momentarily meet eyes.
‘Has anyone new been in your house since we last saw you?’ says Adam.
A sharp look now. ‘Like whom?’ she says. ‘We don’t socialise much. We keep ourselves to ourselves.’ Then she stops abruptly. ‘But I wouldn’t put anything past that Quinn man.’
‘That’s a serious allegation,’ says Rose. ‘And we need to wait and see exactly what’s wrong with your husband before taking that any further.’
Gwen’s lips purse and she gives a loud sniff.
‘As it’s half-term,’ says Adam, ‘I’m guessing Gregory’s at home?’
Gwen’s eyes slide away and her hands come together in her lap. ‘Yes,’ she says.
‘Is someone with him?’ says Adam.
‘He’ll be fine,’ says Gwen with a defensive tilt of the chin. ‘I said he could watch television until I came back.’
Rose makes a face at Adam over her head.
‘Must have been upsetting? Seeing his dad going off in an ambulance?’ says Adam.
‘It’s not ideal,’ says Gwen, tightly. ‘But I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.’ There’s an awkward silence, then Gwen attempts a watery smile. ‘Look,’ she says, ‘I know this is a bit unorthodox …’ She seems to wrestle with the words before they come. ‘Maybe I could ask you the most enormous favour? Is there any way you could drop round and … bring him here? Because,’ she says hurriedly, ‘you’re right. He is quite young and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to him too.’
‘We just got well and truly played there,’ says Rose when they’re back in the car and heading towards Kentish Town again. ‘She leaves the poor kid all alone after witnessing something that must have been bloody traumatic, then guilt-trips us into going to get him.’
‘Yep,’ says Adam. ‘They’re a right pair, aren’t they? We shouldn’t pick up Gregory without an appropriate adult but she’s basically just appointed us as that very thing.’
‘Oh well,’ says Rose. ‘At least we can get the measure of him a little bit. So far we haven’t had much chance of that.’
By the time they get to the house, ice-cold rain is hammering down from a leaden sky. They hurry up the steps to ring the doorbell. Music thumps from a house nearby and there’s a low hum of traffic from the main road in the background.
A woman they haven’t seen before is climbing the steps to number 40. She’s in her forties and harried-looking, with unwashed hair roughly pulled into a ponytail.
Tired eyes immediately slide away from them. Her movements become jerky as she attempts to get her key in the lock. But evidently her hands are shaking because she drops it. Cursing under her breath, she picks up the key and has more success, practically throwing herself through the front door, then closing it firmly behind her.
Adam and Rose exchange amused looks.
‘Wow,’ says Rose. ‘Something we said?’
‘Hmm,’ says Adam. ‘Guilty conscience about anything? Let’s pop round after we check on Gregory.’
No one answers when he rings the doorbell a couple of times. The lace curtains on the ground-floor bay window shift and Gregory’s pale face peers out at them. Rose gives a little wave and what she hopes is a reassuring smile.
After a few moments there’s a sound of scraping on the other side, presumably a bolt being drawn back. The door opens wide enough for a slice of Gregory to appear.
‘Hi,’ says Rose. ‘Do you remember me? We’re the police officers from the other day? Your mum asked us to come and pick you up.’
‘Why?’ says Gregory.
What a strange thing to ask. Rose looks at Adam.
‘Well,’ says Adam. ‘Because she wants you with her. Is it okay if we come in?’
A pause seems to stretch for an uncomfortably long time.
‘I suppose,’ says Gregory, ‘that it’s essential police officers are DBS checked?’
Rose avoids glancing at her colleague, knowing it would be hard to hide her amusement. Gregory has probably heard his father talk about criminal records checks – the sort anyone working with the young must go through. But it’s more like he’s wanting to show off his knowledge than actually asking.
‘We definitely are,’ says Adam with a smile. ‘All up to date on that front.’
Gregory opens the door wider and beckons them in.
Inside, a window must be open because there’s a sudden cool touch of air on her face. Goose pimples creep up her arms. It happens again, quick and sharp and Rose looks around, startled. For a moment, it felt exactly like someone blowing on her neck. Teasing … somehow sexual.
She shivers involuntarily.
Then she sees that Gregory’s eyes are fixed on her, his mouth slightly open. He knows something about what just happened. Did he cause it? Surely not. Not least because she can’t imagine how, but there was something more adult about that … touch, or whatever it was. She forces herself to greet Gregory’s goggle-eyed gaze with a cool and professional smile.
‘So, Gregory,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry your dad isn’t well.’
Gregory makes the smallest movement with his head, a slight dip of the chin. His owlish eyes don’t seem to have blinked for several moments, as if he’s scared to take them off Rose.
‘Do you want to get ready to go to the hospital?’ says Adam in a gentle voice and Gregory’s gaze finally leaves Rose. ‘Get anything you might want to have while you’re waiting?’
The hallway feels overcrowded with the three of them standing there but Gregory makes no sign of moving. He turns one socked foot slowly on top of the other one; his small shoulders, in what looks like a hand-knitted jumper, rounding as though a great weight is pressing down on him. He could easily pass for two years younger than he is.
‘Do I have to come?’ he says. ‘I mean, can you stay here with me instead?’
Adam shoots a surprised look at Rose and emits a small laugh. ‘I think you do, buddy, yes,’ he says.
‘Don’t you want to go, Gregory?’ says Rose and he looks down at his feet, biting his lips, which look a little dry and chapped.
Gregory mutters something so quietly they can’t hear and then turns suddenly and walks down the corridor to the kitchen. The two police officers follow him.
On the kitchen table there’s a large bag of Butterkist popcorn, some of the contents spilling out, an iPad and a cheap, Nokia telephone, which Gregory snatches up and places in his pocket. Then he flicks a guilty look towards them.
‘Been having a chat with a mate?’ says Adam.
‘No,’ says Gregory, blinking rapidly. ‘I haven’t been speaking to anyone.’
What a funny little kid he is, thinks Rose.
She glances over at the sink where there has been a messy attempt at washing up. Soapsuds are all around the sides and there is a little puddle of water on the floor. The rack contains a jug, a bowl, and a pint glass, along with the end piece of a hand blender.
Gregory watches Rose take this in, his eyes wide. He’s almost quivering with some kind of internal anguish.
‘Daddy won’t die,’ he blurts out. ‘He only thinks he’s been poisoned. The smoothie was perfectly okay really.’
Rose and Adam sharply meet eyes and then look back at the boy.
‘Poisoned?’ says Rose, keenly aware of how carefully they need to tread. ‘What do you mean, Gregory?’
‘He wasn’t though,’ says Gregory impatiently. ‘You’re not listening. There wasn’t any of the black bryony actually in it. He only thought there was.’
Rose is aware that she and Adam have gone quite still.
‘Right,’ says Adam carefully. ‘What is black bryony, exactly? And why did he think he’d taken it?’ His tone is light.
‘It’s a highly poisonous berry from our garden,’ says Gregory. ‘It’s also known as Tamus communis. I picked some of the berries and put them next to the blueberries and the acai berries he uses in his Power Smoothie.’ He pauses. ‘He thought he’d used them, you see.’
Rose’s heart begins to beat faster.
‘Gregory,’ says Adam, taking a step closer to the boy. ‘Now this is very important. Think carefully. Is there any chance at all that your dad did eat those berries?’
‘You’re really not listening,’ he says. ‘I only wanted him to think so. I already said they were next to the ones he was using, not mixed in.’
Adam turns to Rose, expression grave. ‘I’ll call the Royal Free,’ he says quietly.
Rose turns back to Gregory, who has picked up the popcorn bag and is shovelling the contents into his mouth.
‘Gregory,’ says Rose. ‘I’m going to call your mum now, okay? We’re going to go down to the police station and make a record of everything that happened today.’
The boy’s face instantly transforms into something hopeful.
‘Really?’ he says, excitedly. ‘Do I get to go in a real police car?’