Turning to face me, she said, “Kate, an interesting piece of information emerged on Friday evening. Something important. And, even in light of all that has happened, I didn’t feel it appropriate to present this in court and catch you off guard—I didn’t want you to feel like you had been blindsided.” I listened carefully to her words, realizing that this was the first time we’d conversed with one another outside of that terrible day in the grocery store. “I know that this has been a difficult experience. For all of us.” She glanced around the room and rested her eyes briefly on the young man who had not yet been introduced—to us at least. “But I think that this new information could change what happens next.”
I felt completely confused. Honestly, was anyone going to tell us what the hell was going on? Glancing at the solicitors, and then returning my gaze to Madeleine, I said, “OK, seriously, what’s going on? Who are these people?”
Madeleine continued, “Kate, this is Scott Ferguson, he’s a biology student at City College. Scott contacted me on Friday via my website about some information that he thought might be important to me—to both of us, really.” Looking at the older man, Madeleine said, “And this man is his solicitor, John Fleming.”
I still didn’t know how these two people fit into our case and, while I waited for someone to offer a further explanation, the student spoke up.
“Ms. O’Hara, I contacted Mrs. Cooper after something you said in the six-o’clock news report on Friday caught my attention. It isn’t because I am interested in your case or the controversy surrounding it. It was because of what you said, about your daughter and the dinosaur expo.”
I frowned, taken aback. “What has that got to do with anything...”
“Well, it caught my attention because I was a guide at that exhibition. I work on a part-time basis in the RDS during the school holidays. Mostly, I’m responsible for talking people through the various exhibits and answering questions about the displays. Regardless, the news report followed up with a mention that you had attended the Dinosaur Live expo over Easter, followed by a picture of your daughter on-screen. I remember her.”
The student’s solicitor obviously read my confused expression, because he held up a hand to Scott.
“Ms. O’Hara, I have been fully briefed on the details of your case and the nature of the legal proceedings currently before the court. I understand that your and Mrs. Cooper’s children contracted measles largely at the same time and that the thrust of this case has been focused on appropriating blame for the infection. Well, we are here to tell you that you can no longer blame the Cooper family for your daughter’s illness. It was almost certainly Scott who exposed her at the exhibition, because he was deeply infectious with the disease at that time.”
51
My mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry—what? I don’t understand!” I exclaimed and Declan moved to put a comforting hand on my arm.
“I remember your daughter; she was talking about Mosasaurus and how the latestJurassic Parkmovie got the details all wrong,” Scott continued. He smiled a little. “And I agreed with her, but it was only the other day, when I saw her picture on the news report, that I put two and two together. Over the weekend, I contacted a buddy at the RDS who was able to pull the security footage for the dates in question, and we brought that here this morning for you all to see. I figured that would be necessary to prove my involvement.” He motioned to a laptop situated on a table next to the judge. On the screen a black-and-white video was paused—it showed the inside of the expo location and a mass of people congregated in groups around the various dinosaur exhibits.
“In any case, I probably wouldn’t have made the connection at all and wouldn’t have shown any interest if that journalist hadn’t talked to you. Like I said, I remember the day you and your daughter were there, and it was the following day that I ended up going home early from my shift because I was feeling so off. I couldn’t get out of bed after that and was out of commission for almost two weeks.”
I was shaking my head, still in disbelief, when Declan spoke up. “You were diagnosed with measles at the time? I assume you reported your infection to the RDS?”
Scott continued, “Well, firstly, I didn’t actually realize until now that what I had actuallywasmeasles, because I am vaccinated. So I suppose it’s very possible that I’m a nonresponder. I only compared my symptoms with what was standard for the virus when I thought there might be a connection between myself and your case. I did phone Care Doc at the time last year, and they said it was likely a viral infection—and I wasn’t going to spend more money going to a GP or the hospital when I know that viruses cannot be treated. As you know, Ms. O’Hara, since you are a nurse, antibiotics don’t do anything for viruses and, as I had no further complications—my symptoms were mild and nowhere near what either of your daughters experienced—my only option was to sit at home and wait the thing out. Mrs. Cooper, I understand that your daughter did much the same.”
Madeleine nodded solemnly. “That’s right. We just kept Clara at home until she was feeling better.”
“Measles is one of those diseases that is very manageable if it’s not too serious,” stated Scott knowledgeably. “So I managed it. Recounting my experience with the benefit of hindsight, yes, I had a slight rash, as well as the coughing, sneezing, sore throat, fever, all of those things. I loaded myself up on vitamin A, vitamin C, zinc, acetaminophen and what have you, drank plenty of fluids and I got rest. However, I now realize I was also contagious. Dangerously so.”
Hindsight...
John Fleming pulled the laptop closer to him. “Ms. O’Hara, Mr. Roe, it’s probably best if you watch the security footage.”
Declan and I both approached the laptop like it was a ticking time bomb. As Fleming pressed Play and pointed to where Scott was on the screen, I immediately spied Rosie on the day we attended the expo on March 15. She was chatting to Scott beside a Triceratops display, nodding attentively while also touching and inspecting the various elements that Scott—who all the while kept sneezing and coughing into his hand—indicated.
It was something of an otherworldly experience—as I watched this strange man visibly infect my child with an invisible virus that would fester within her for the next few days, waiting to rear its ugly head and change our lives forever.
I watched the tape back a few times until I was clear of one thing—the most important thing—which in itself led to a terrifying realization: Clara didn’t infect Rosie with measles.
In fact, it was the other way around...
I turned to Madeleine Cooper, my eyes full of remorse and mortification. “I...I’m not sure what to say.”
To her credit, she, and indeed her husband, didn’t appear superior or dismissive toward me. As I struggled to find more words, Declan asked a question. “Where would you have been exposed, Scott?”
“Well, I started trying to figure this out once I realized it was measles that I actually had. My best guess is that I picked it up in the lab at some point. I had a molecular-biology module last year that paid great attention to the spread of infectious diseases. Measles is a member of the Paramyxoviridae family, and we worked with some strains of this disease in the lab—family members, I mean, not necessarily a live measles virus. I’m thinking that perhaps whatever strain we worked with actually morphed and changed, which is possible with viral structures such as this. Like they say in that old dinosaur movie, nature always finds its own way—nothing anyone can do to prevent that. And coupled with the fact that your immunity becomes reduced as you get older, which would be impactful for me if I did happen to be a non-responder, it’s completely possible that my blood contains fewer IgG antibodies...”
John Fleming held up a hand as his client grew more and more animated. “Scott, I really don’t think it’s necessary to go into that much scientific detail,” admonished his solicitor.
“Right,” the young man said, realizing that the majority of his audience did not hold scientific backgrounds in molecular biology and therefore were unimpressed by such an explanation. “In any case, I think I’m going to write a paper on it. Maybe I can get it published.”
The solicitor cleared his throat. “I hope it goes without saying, Ms. O’Hara, that Scott deeply regrets the distress caused to you and your daughter as a result of further complications from the virus he transmitted. But I am here today primarily to protect his interests, given the seriousness of the current court proceedings despite the fact that there is no issue of negligence on Scott’s part or the university’s—”
I put my hand up, stopping him from saying any more. “That won’t be necessary. Of course I don’t intend to hold Scott liable,” I assured, feeling sick to my stomach that people saw me as “that person,” someone who would sue everyone in sight for the slightest wrongdoing.
