‘That the deaths had nothing to do with natural Scrapie.
‘Natural Scrapie?’ repeated Bannerman.
‘You know what I mean,’ said Allison, waving his hands. ‘These poor men died from this mutant monster thing that the chemical created.’
‘But nevertheless it was created, Mr Allison. There is now a form of Scrapie which will infect people.’
‘But the government has seen to it that every sheep on Inverladdie Farm has been slaughtered and disposed of by incineration. There is no further source of the agent.’
Bannerman was lost for words for a moment. He couldn’t believe the aura of complacency about the man. ‘But it’s what happened before we found out the truth that matters!’ he exclaimed.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that sheep carcasses were lying around all over the place because Sproat was too mean to dispose of them, and for God knows how long!’
‘I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,’ said Allison condescendingly.
‘One bird feeding off one infected carcass a few weeks ago will by now have spread the virus to another part of the countryside. Sooner or later a new flock will become infected and just maybe a few infected lambs will make it to market before the regulations step in. Then what happens?’
‘I feel we are moving in to the realms of fantasy here Doctor,’ said Allison. ‘You can’t seriously be suggesting that we quarantine every sheep in the land?’
‘I’m suggesting that you tighten up the regulations immediately. You make Scrapie a notifiable disease and you offer compensation to farmers for infected sheep at a level above market value so there will be no “slipping through the net” before notification.’
‘If we do that then it will appear that something is wrong,’ said Allison.
‘Something is wrong!’ insisted Bannerman.
Allison thumped his hands angrily on to the table. ‘No,’ he exclaimed. ‘This is over the top! You’ll be suggesting next that we ban people from crossing the road so that road accident figures will drop!’
Bannerman recognized Allison’s attempt at blustering to gain the initiative. He remained calm and said. That is not the same thing and you know it.’
Allison changed tack. He suddenly became reasonable. ‘Look Doctor, we both know that very little is known about the spread of slow virus infection. A lot more research needs to be done. Her Majesty’s Government has agreed to fund an extensive programme of research. The programme will be administered by the Medical Research Council who will set up a new board specifically for that purpose. We would all be delighted if you would chair that board.’
Bannerman felt as if he was being swept along by a freak wave. He shook his head and looked down at the table in silence.
‘At least think about it,’ said Allison, getting to his feet.
Bannerman held up his hands arid said, ‘Not so fast.’
The silence that ensued could have been cut with a knife. ‘You have not said one word about the business at the quarry,’ said Bannerman.
‘What’s there to say?’ asked Allison. ‘Thanks to you we’ve been able to put a complete stop to it.’
‘What about charges, Mr Allison? A foreign company has been using our country as a dump for some of the most dangerous substances on earth and there has not been one mention of it in the papers or on the radio or on television. Why not?’
For the first time Allison displayed real vulnerability. He sat down again slowly and Bannerman noticed a small smile flicker across the lips of Flowers, who had remained silent throughout.
‘Frankly Doctor, the government believes that it would be in the best interests of the people of this country if the full extent of this outrage was not made public. Don’t you agree?’
‘No, I do not!’ said Bannerman forcefully.
‘Doctor, you force me to remind you that …’
‘I signed the Official Secrets Act. Yes, I get the picture and “D” notices will fly like confetti while you and your cronies conduct yet another cover-up of what really goes on in this country!’
‘We have to do what we think best,’ said Allison.
‘Why Allison? Tell me that. There’s got to be more to it than “the best interests of the people”. Just tell me why?’
Allison laced the fingers of his hands together in front of him and took a deep breath. Even then, there was one false start before the words started to come out. ‘The waste … the toxic chemicals …’
‘Yes?’
‘They were British.’
‘British?’ exclaimed Bannerman in disbelief. He saw that Milne and Flowers had already been told this.
‘The government awarded a disposal contract to a Dutch company we believed to be reputable. As it turns out they were not.’
Bannerman’s mouth fell open as he realized what had been happening. ‘You mean that you were loading it on to ships at one end of the country and unloading it at the other? God, what a farce! So to save your blushes, you hush it all up?’
‘There’s more,’ said Allison, avoiding Bannerman’s eyes. The chemicals were manufactured in this country at a time which puts us in contravention of an international agreement banning such work. The Dutch company knows this.’
‘My God,’ said Bannerman, shaking his head.
‘The Russians broke the agreement, the Americans too; everyone knows they did,’ said Allison.
Though it was never proved,’ said Bannerman. ‘But if you pursue the Dutch they’ll crucify you on the world stage. Am I right?’
‘More or less.’
‘I need some fresh air,’ said Bannerman, getting to his feet.
Flowers and Milne shrugged their embarrassment at him.
‘You will think about that offer I mentioned earlier,’ said Allison. ‘You are the man for the job.’
Bannerman left without replying. He returned to St Luke’s and called Shona from his office. She answered after the third ring.
‘I’ve fallen off the tight-rope,’ he said.
‘On which side?’
‘Can I come up?’
‘I’ll be waiting,’ laughed Shona.
‘Do you think the island could use a GP?’
‘I’m sure,’ said Shona. ‘But we’ll talk about that later. When are you leaving?’
‘Now,’ said Bannerman. ‘I love you,’ said Shona.
‘I’m so glad that you do,’ said Bannerman softly.
‘Get a move on.’
Bannerman put down the phone and cleared out his desk. Without looking back he left the building and was nearly at the front gate when he heard his name being called. It was the hospital psychiatrist, David Drysdale. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages,’ said Drysdale.
‘Really?’ asked Bannerman.
‘It’s about that problem you had, you know, with the nightmares and the feelings of uncertainty and lack of confidence.’
‘What about it?’
‘We all thought it was down to mid-life crisis at the time but it wasn’t. I’ve finally worked it out. You may find it hard to believe but … you don’t like being a pathologist. You never did. It’s just unfortunate that you’re so good at it. It never occurred to you to change.’
Bannerman broke into a broad smile. ‘Tell me about it,’ he said as he walked away and out through the gates.
As the train slid out of the station for the long journey north Bannerman took out his newspaper and started to read. The lead story concerned a man in a Norfolk village who had slaughtered his entire family with an axe before taking his own life. There were family snaps of his wife and three small children at the beach. ‘In happier times,’ said the caption. ‘He was a quiet man,’ said one of the neighbours. ‘He kept himself to himself,’ said another. Everyone in the village was stunned by what had happened, said the story.
‘Tragic,’ said the man across from Bannerman who had been reading the same story. ‘Seems to happen a lot these days.’
Bannerman nodded and put away his paper to look out of the window. You ain’t seen nothing yet, he thought to himself.