“I need to talk to you about something,” he said. “Privately.”
I glanced at Mum. She was asleep. It might be hard to chat later, with Viv around. She had a way of hovering. “What is it?”
He pulled his chair closer to mine and lowered his voice. He talked urgently and told me what he’d discovered about the Institute. It left me reeling. I had so many questions. He answered what he could.
I said, “I need to tell you something, too.”
I checked again that Mum was asleep before whispering: “I met my dad. It’s him who owns the manuscripts they want me to study. He’s the bloody benefactor. I went to his house in Cambridge.”
“Cambridge!” he echoed, a little too loud. He knew I’d sworn never to go there.
I shushed him, but Mum stirred. Her eyes opened, and they lit on me.
She smiled weakly. “Did I tell you about the clinical trial?” she asked.
“You did. It’s amazing news.” My stomach lurched. Why was she confused? She hadn’t been earlier. Her head fell back on the pillow, and she turned her face to the window. Raindrops were slipping down the glass. Her skin was dull and pale, apart from the bright fever spots on her cheeks and neck, and the damp light washed her grayer.
I met Sid’s eye.We’ll talk more later, I mouthed. I hadn’t yet told him about the pact I’d made with Magnus. It felt as if everything we’d wished for had been exploded, but Mum was the priority right now. Nothing else mattered.
It seemed to cost her a lot of effort just to move her head. She turned it slowly to look at me, and said, “Oh, yes, I remember now. You were in Cambridge when we phoned you.”
My stomach clenched. “No,” I said. “I went to London. You just overheard Sid say Cambridge. He was talking about something else.”
I tried to hold her gaze casually.
I always know when you’re lying, Anya.
She said, “No, my love. You were in Cambridge. I heard St. Leo’s clock chiming in the background when we were speaking. I know that sound.”
“No,” I said. It came across as meek and unconvincing.
We eyeballed each other. I couldn’t let her know I’d been there. I wouldn’t. I thought she was about to speak when her eyelids drooped and her head lolled. The oximeter alarm went off.
“Get the nurse! Quick!”
Sid swept the curtain aside. Viv was standing right behind it. She looked startled.
“I just arrived!” she said, as if we’d asked.
Sid dashed past her to fetch someone. I ignored her.
“Mum!” I shook her shoulder gently but couldn’t rouse her. “Mum!” I held her face between my hands. Her neck was limp, and her head was heavy.
A medical team ran in. I moved aside. Viv stared from the end of the bed. I heard her say, “I’m in the way.” She stepped aside as everyone converged on Mum.
The medics worked on her, putting an oxygen mask on, running checks, monitoring her oxygen levels until they were back in the normal range, and after some heart-stopping moments Mum was there again.
“She fainted,” the doctor said. “We’ll give her something to bring her blood pressure up.”
We were always lurching from one crisis to the next. Where Mum’s lymphoma was concerned the ground beneath our feet was never stable. I found it exhausting trying to keep my balance and stay strong for her.
Her eyes were open again, but she lapsed back into confusion. She was mumbling. Sid slipped his arm around me, holding me as if he knew I was afraid that I might fall. I felt his heart thumping as hard and as fast as mine was.
We kept vigil beside the bed. Mum was very drowsy. The nurse checked her blood pressure every few minutes until she was sure it had stabilized. “She’s doing well now,” she said. “We’ll check again in half an hour.” She left Sid and me alone with Mum.
“How long do you think Viv was behind the curtain?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Sid said. “Maybe a while? The way she reacted, it was like she’d been eavesdropping.”
