The room was a rectangle. On one side was an examination table, and in the opposite corner Doctor Kahn’s desk faced the wall.
Gray settled into one of two seats next to the desk. Kahn — a thirty-something Asian woman already turning grey, with small, serious features– twisted in her seat to face him. The surgery was one of those where you could end up seeing any of the GPs. Gone were the days of being allocated a single physician who you saw forever more.
Kahn started with the standard question. “What prompted you to come see me?”
“I’ve been sick several times. Most recently there was blood.”
Kahn made a note on her pad. “Any other symptoms?”
“I’ve been finding it hard to swallow when eating. Also heartburn.”
“How long for now?”
“Three, maybe four weeks.”
“Is there anything which makes your symptoms better or worse?”
Gray considered that. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. Milk helps ease the heartburn, but otherwise I assumed it was bad food or irritable bowel syndrome.”
“Do you smoke?”
“Some, I’ve been cutting back.”
“Drink alcohol?”
“Same answer.”
“How recently have you been reducing your intake?”
“A few months now, which is why I thought this was linked to a lifestyle change.”
“Okay, I’d like to take some blood, then examine you.”
“I hate needles,” said Gray.
“It’s necessary, I’m afraid.”
Reluctantly, Gray agreed.
“Would you prefer to lie down?” asked Kahn.
“Yes.”
He shrugged off his jacket, rolled up his right sleeve, and lay on the examination table. As Kahn tightened a strap around his upper arm just above the elbow, Gray twisted his head away and covered up his eyes with his left arm as if he were a weeping angel. Kahn tapped on a vein.
“You’ll feel a sharp scratch,” she said.
This time Gray kept his comments to himself. Without further warning the needle pushed through his skin and then the vein. Gray grimaced and sucked in half a lungful of air through his teeth.
“Thank you, Mr Gray. Just stay there a moment please.”
Gray did as he was told while Kahn returned to her desk and tapped at her computer. When she’d finished she turned to face him. “I’m going to urgently refer you to a specialist at the hospital for an endoscopy. The symptoms you’re displaying concern me sufficiently — weight loss, the reflux, the difficulty in swallowing — and the period of time you’ve been suffering for. By then we should have the bloods back.”
“What do you think it could be?”
“Any number of causes are possible.”
Gray considered what the doctor was saying. “It’s cancer, right?”
“Not necessarily. At this stage I’d really try not to worry. Your symptoms could equally be due to Barrett’s oesophagus, where the cells around the oesophagus are weakened. Or any number of other things. My referral is a precautionary measure. Any further questions?”
“I can’t think of any right now.”
At reception, Gray gave them his mobile number, then he was outside and wondering what the hell he could do, other than go home.
***
Gray opened up the floor-to-ceiling windows to let in some air into his flat. He stood staring out over the water for a few minutes, seeing nothing. In the two days since Cameron and Natalie’s arrest the case had changed completely. The charges over the Sunset fire against Jake had been dropped, and he’d been released, but Hamson was gathering evidence regarding Regan’s alleged sexual assaults, and Jake’s possible collusion in a series of cover-ups.
Cameron had been charged with murder, but was remaining silent. Natalie’s charge was accessory to murder. Gray had heard from Fowler that she was co-operating fully with his colleagues. It seemed her motive had simply been to destroy Jake, to publicly tear his life apart, raze everything he’d built to the ground.
The murder of William Noble remained open. Privately, the police believed he’d died at the hands of McGavin because Noble was digging into Millstone, but without the evidence it was another unsolved.
Right now, Gray felt as low as was possible. He was coming to accept Carslake had lied to him and probably had for years. Though it was tough to accept. Hamson had been right all along, but their friendship was broken, perhaps beyond repair.
This morning Gray had received an email from Inspector Morel in Calais. He couldn’t find any record of a child with Tom’s description coming through the port. The Dover witness probably never existed in the first place. Gray had to accept it was all a subterfuge from Carslake to put him off. But why?
Gray decided to have a beer. If he had cancer, then what the hell. His mobile rang as he was reaching for a bottle. “Hello, Rachel.” He was surprised to hear from her.
“Afternoon, Sergeant Gray.” She sounded tired.
“Sol, please. How are you?”
“Worn out, but I feel brilliant. I don’t really have anyone else to tell so I rang you, I hope that’s all right. My baby arrived last night.”
“Congratulations!” Gray was genuinely pleased for her. “Boy or girl?”
“A little boy. I’ve decided I’m going to call him Thomas.”
Gray’s heart lurched, but it could only be coincidence. Gray had never discussed his private life with her. “Good choice, I’ll come see you later, okay?”
“I’d like that.” Gray heard Thomas cry in the background. “I’ve got to go, Sol. He’s a hungry one.”
Holding his mobile, Gray realised a massive error of judgement. All these years he’d been chasing the past, seeking the missing, pining for the dead, when there was someone here who’d needed him. Someone Gray had abandoned, like Natalie had abandoned Rachel. He’d been a fool and worse. But at least he could try to undo his errors.
Gray pulled out his laptop. He entered Facebook Messenger, typed out his daughter’s name, and wrote her a note. A moment later a speech bubble and three bouncing dots appeared.
She was typing.
Her reply seemed to take forever, but when they appeared the words sent Gray’s heart soaring. “Hi Dad, I’ve missed you.”
Despite everything, maybe there was a future after all.