I sit up sharply, whip the sheets away from me and throw my legs over the side of the bed.
‘Who?’ I say.
‘Gordon, do we have a deal?’
My palms begin to sweat. I suck a sharp breath in through my grinding teeth.
‘Who the fuck is it?’
‘Gordon – I need you to—’
‘Of course you can have my fucking home if I die! Tell me who the other suspect was. It’s Jake Dewey isn’t it? The cops always told me they didn’t look into him, but they did, didn’t they? The dirty fucking—’
‘Gordon, it’s not Jake Dewey,’ Lenny says and then my world seems to almost stand still. ‘Dewey didn’t have anything to do with Betsy’s disappearance. I spoke with De Brun and then to Frank Keville, do you know who he is?’
My eyes flicker around the ward.
‘Frank Keville, the journalist guy?’
‘Yep… he told me there were four initial suspects in the case. You were one. Alan Keating and Barry Ward the others.’
‘And?’
The line pauses. For way too long.
‘Who, Lenny?’ I bark.
Silence again.
‘Who?’
Then I hear a quiet voice. A voice I haven’t heard in years. The Dutch lisp still strong.
‘Guus… Guus… Is that Guus Meyer?’
My eyes widen. I pace around the room, my feet slapping against the cold floor.
‘Yes, Gordon. I’m at Guus Meyer’s home. I’ll ring you back in a few—’
‘You will in your bollocks ring me back… I wanna know exactly what’s going on.’
For some reason I find myself in the toilet cubicle, then outside it. I perch on the end of my bed, then pace over to the far wall. I can’t stay still. My whole body is sprinting just as quickly as my mind is.
‘Gordon, I know this has come as a major shock to you. But please just calm down. I am going to get answers and then I am going to ring you straight back.’ I hyperventilate down the line, can actually hear my heavy breaths reverberate back into my own ear. ‘Gordon, just get that will signed and I will deliver on my promise. I am about to have news for you that you have never heard before.’ The line goes dead.
I lean back against the wall, slide down it until my ass is sitting on the cold floor. I don’t think it takes long for my head to snap out the spin it’s been in. My eyes focus on the bed rail in front of me. I lift the phone back up to my face and press at Lenny’s number. I remain focused on the bed rail, my eyes in no way interested in even blinking. Bollocks! The phone rings out. I get to my feet, try again.
‘Answer the fucking phone, Lenny,’ I pant just as my ward door opens and Elaine walks in. Her face contorts seeing me strolling around with the phone to my ear.
‘Gordon!’ She paces over to my bedside cabinet, drops a tube of Fruit Pastilles on top of it, then folds her arms under her tiny breasts and sighs at me.
I hold the phone down by my side, hold her stare before I finally speak up.
‘Elaine, my PI found something new. My best friend, can you believe it? He thinks my best friend took Betsy.’
Elaine doesn’t react; she stands still, her arms still folded. The silence is almost deafening, both of us deep in thought.
‘I need to ring him back. I need to ring him back.’
I bring the phone to my face to redial and just as I go to press on Lenny’s number Elaine finally makes a move, stepping towards me and grabbing my wrist.
‘Mr Douglas will not go through with your surgeries if you make that call,’ she says. She’s gripping so hard it actually hurts. ‘You promised me you would keep that phone turned off, promised me you would relax. I’m trying to keep you alive, Gordon Blake. Whatever your PI has to say to you, he can say it to you after you recover from your surgeries.’
I hold my eyes tightly closed. And as I do, I sense Elaine leading me over to my bed. Without questioning her, I arch my bum cheeks on top of the mattress and then lie down.
‘I need you to witness me signing something,’ I say.
She doesn’t reply.
‘In fact I need you and some other person to witness me signing something, can you do that?’
She stands back after draping the sheets over me.
‘Elaine?’ I say, turning to her, opening my eyes.
‘Gordon, I need you to relax. There is barely any time left until you are taken down for surgery.’
I close my eyes again, then shift down in the bed until my head is resting on the pillow.
Guus. Fucking Guus. No. Couldn’t be. I can’t get my head straight. My thoughts keep jumping. Is this why the cunt hasn’t spoken to me in years? Jesus, Gordon, get your act together. Think, for fuck’s sake!
I feel Elaine grab at my left hand as I continue to stew in thought. She feels for my pulse. I don’t pull away. I just let her do what she needs to do as I think this through. Guus Meyer took my Betsy?
‘Just breathe, Gordon,’ Elaine says, her thumb pressed against my wrist. Then I feel her face near mine; she breathes in deeply, then out deeply.
‘Follow my breaths,’ she whispers.
I do. I sync my breathing with hers. It slows my thinking.
‘In just over half-an-hour, you are going down for major surgery. You need to survive these surgeries.’ Elaine sounds like one of those meditation tapes. ‘In order to survive those surgeries, you need to be calm. Your heart rate needs to be consistent. Keep breathing.’
I imagine myself on the surgical table, Douglas slicing his scalpel into me, ripping my chest open. Fucking hell. I’m going to die. I’m going to die in the next couple of hours. My eyes open wide. I whip the sheets off me again and jump out of bed, almost pushing Elaine aside. I still have the phone gripped in my hand. I tap at it, call Lenny’s number. It rings. And rings. And rings. Then cuts off.
‘Gordon Blake, I swear if you don’t lie down right now I am going to advise Mr Douglas to cancel your procedures.’
I don’t answer Elaine; I just pace around the room, look at the phone’s screen and press again at Lenny’s number. I know I look like a madman, almost running around, but I don’t give a fuck.
‘Gordon please!’ Elaine shouts. She stops me from pacing in circles and grabs me around the waist. I can hear the tone ringing out again as she tries to wrestle the phone from my hand. We end up in a scrum in the middle of the ward, both of us tumbling to the floor.
Then the door opens. I look up, under Elaine’s armpit, and expect to see Mr Douglas standing there with his clipboard, shaking his head. But it’s not him. I relent, release the grip on my phone and allow Elaine to take it. Then I scramble to a standing position.
‘Michelle,’ I say, stretching a big smile across my face. I wipe both of my hands down the front of my T-shirt and walk towards her, leaving Elaine sitting on the floor. ‘What are you doing here?’