David."
Harry smiled sympathetically. "I don't think it's stupid. I talk to him as if he can hear and understand what I'm saying. I know you do too. It's only natural. But... what is it you can't bring yourself to say in front of him?"
"Never mind that for the moment," she said briskly, sipping at her tea. Tell me about Dr. Tilson."
"There isn't much to add to what I said on the phone. She doesn't have David's notebooks. She agrees their absence is suspicious. She confirms Hammelgaard thought the same. And she thinks he may have gone to ground in Copenhagen."
"With Miss Trangam?"
"Maybe. Either way, he must know where she is."
"I still can't believe she can help David in any practical way, Harry. If she could, she'd have told me when we met."
"She did offer Baxendale some advice, didn't she?"
"Yes, but of a highly theoretical nature. The findings of some research she'd done into the meaning of consciousness. According to Mr. Baxendale, it was all about precisely where and how in the brain consciousness functions. Given enough precision, it might be possible to stimulate those areas surgically and snap a patient out of a coma. But the necessary techniques simply don't exist. And won't for the foreseeable future."
"It's at least worth talking to her, isn't it?"
"I suppose so. But you must understand just how long a shot it is. David stopped breathing shortly after the chambermaid found him. It was twenty minutes before the paramedics got his heart beating again and put him on a respirator. The consensus of opinion is that there's nothing to revive."
"Why didn't you agree to let him die some time ago, then?"
"Because a mother can't help hoping."
"Well, believe it or not, Iris, neither can a father."
She looked at him for what seemed a long time without speaking, then said: "This isn't really about saving David though, is it, Harry? This is about blaming somebody for what's happened to him."
"It's about both."
"Ken has been very generous, you know. All Claude left me was a bungalow and a widow's pension. Without Ken I wouldn't be able to pay for David's room. Let alone the twenty-four-hour care he receives. But I can't impose on his generosity indefinitely. Not when there's no reasonable prospect of an improvement in David's condition. It simply wouldn't be fair."
"Would leaving even a single stone unturned be fair to David?"
"Put like that.. ."
"All I'm asking you to do is nothing until I've had a chance to speak to Hammelgaard and Donna Trangam."
"You've got to find them first."
"Which is why I'm going to Copenhagen."
"When?"
"As soon as possible. Next week, I suppose. I'll have to give my boss a few days to arrange cover for me."
"Your boss at the garage?"
"The very same."
"It didn't look much of a place."
"And it's not much of a job. But it's the only one I've got."
"What's the pay like?"
Harry grinned. "Put it this way. If Labour ever get in and introduce a national minimum wage, I'll be due a substantial rise."
Iris chuckled. "You always did have a good sense of humour, Harry. I remember that. David would have She broke off and flushed, then reached evasively for her tea.
"Would have liked me?"
She swallowed some tea and clattered the cup back into its saucer.
"You never mentioned I have his smile."
"What would have been the point? You're never going to see him smile, are you?" She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them and said: "I asked about your wages in case you need some money. Travelling expenses. That sort of thing. I mean, in a sense you'll be going to Copenhagen on my behalf, won't you? So '
"I don't need to be paid to help my son, Iris. Keep your money. Put it towards the hospital bill." Their eyes met. Thirty-four years of mutual indifference contended with the bonds and necessities of the moment. And a silent truce was concluded. "I'm sorry. There's no point us arguing. That won't help David."
"I'm sorry too. I never meant to suggest.. ."
"It doesn't matter.
Harry smiled sympathetically. "I don't think it's stupid. I talk to him as if he can hear and understand what I'm saying. I know you do too. It's only natural. But... what is it you can't bring yourself to say in front of him?"
"Never mind that for the moment," she said briskly, sipping at her tea. Tell me about Dr. Tilson."
"There isn't much to add to what I said on the phone. She doesn't have David's notebooks. She agrees their absence is suspicious. She confirms Hammelgaard thought the same. And she thinks he may have gone to ground in Copenhagen."
"With Miss Trangam?"
"Maybe. Either way, he must know where she is."
"I still can't believe she can help David in any practical way, Harry. If she could, she'd have told me when we met."
"She did offer Baxendale some advice, didn't she?"
"Yes, but of a highly theoretical nature. The findings of some research she'd done into the meaning of consciousness. According to Mr. Baxendale, it was all about precisely where and how in the brain consciousness functions. Given enough precision, it might be possible to stimulate those areas surgically and snap a patient out of a coma. But the necessary techniques simply don't exist. And won't for the foreseeable future."
"It's at least worth talking to her, isn't it?"
"I suppose so. But you must understand just how long a shot it is. David stopped breathing shortly after the chambermaid found him. It was twenty minutes before the paramedics got his heart beating again and put him on a respirator. The consensus of opinion is that there's nothing to revive."
"Why didn't you agree to let him die some time ago, then?"
"Because a mother can't help hoping."
"Well, believe it or not, Iris, neither can a father."
She looked at him for what seemed a long time without speaking, then said: "This isn't really about saving David though, is it, Harry? This is about blaming somebody for what's happened to him."
"It's about both."
"Ken has been very generous, you know. All Claude left me was a bungalow and a widow's pension. Without Ken I wouldn't be able to pay for David's room. Let alone the twenty-four-hour care he receives. But I can't impose on his generosity indefinitely. Not when there's no reasonable prospect of an improvement in David's condition. It simply wouldn't be fair."
"Would leaving even a single stone unturned be fair to David?"
"Put like that.. ."
"All I'm asking you to do is nothing until I've had a chance to speak to Hammelgaard and Donna Trangam."
"You've got to find them first."
"Which is why I'm going to Copenhagen."
"When?"
"As soon as possible. Next week, I suppose. I'll have to give my boss a few days to arrange cover for me."
"Your boss at the garage?"
"The very same."
"It didn't look much of a place."
"And it's not much of a job. But it's the only one I've got."
"What's the pay like?"
Harry grinned. "Put it this way. If Labour ever get in and introduce a national minimum wage, I'll be due a substantial rise."
Iris chuckled. "You always did have a good sense of humour, Harry. I remember that. David would have She broke off and flushed, then reached evasively for her tea.
"Would have liked me?"
She swallowed some tea and clattered the cup back into its saucer.
"You never mentioned I have his smile."
"What would have been the point? You're never going to see him smile, are you?" She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them and said: "I asked about your wages in case you need some money. Travelling expenses. That sort of thing. I mean, in a sense you'll be going to Copenhagen on my behalf, won't you? So '
"I don't need to be paid to help my son, Iris. Keep your money. Put it towards the hospital bill." Their eyes met. Thirty-four years of mutual indifference contended with the bonds and necessities of the moment. And a silent truce was concluded. "I'm sorry. There's no point us arguing. That won't help David."
"I'm sorry too. I never meant to suggest.. ."
"It doesn't matter.
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