Scoop nodded. 'I suppose you're right.'
***
After they'd left Scoop put the finishing touches to his newspaper — he found a passport-sized photograph of Pedroza in the ship's personnel files which slotted nicely into the story Jimmy had written. Jimmy wasn't a bad kid, he thought. A bit rough round the edges, but he had worked hard — at least, earlier in the day he had — and the articles he'd written were really quite good. Claire was another matter. A total waste of time.
As he worked, Scoop found his eyes occasionally flitting back to the e-mail message. He still hadn't deleted it, despite knowing it was the right thing to do. The very last thing he needed was an infected computer.
And yet.
He was a journalist, and the teaching words of who, what, where, when and how could also be combined into one single word — curiosity. Part of him was absolutely dying to know what was contained in the e-mail.
He stared at it.
He stared at it some more.
No. He didn't need the hassle.
Delete it.
12
A Question of Belief
They had been trapped in the freezer for four hours. They no longer expected to be rescued. They were going to die.
***
Jimmy asked Claire if she wanted to leave a farewell message. He would scrape it into the freezer wall with his lucky coin, but she would have to be quick because the meagre light they had from her camera was fading fast. 'To your parents . . . you could tell them you . . . love them . . . or hate them . . .'
Claire shook her head. 'Just write — Pedroza . . . did it!
Jimmy wrote it. Then he slumped back down beside her.
'I just . . . want to sleep now,' she said. Claire nodded against him. He gave her a gentle shake. 'Don't . . . try and stay awake.'
To try and keep her focussed Jimmy told her as best he could — his words slow and deliberate and taking long pauses for difficult, icy breaths — about the penny and the story of Lucky Jimmy Armstrong and the first Titanic, and then how he himself had come to be a stowaway in the first place, with the driver falling into the water and the e-mail he'd sent to his former headmaster.
Claire giggled.
But then she grew quiet.
Jimmy said, 'Are you . . . all right?'
'I was . . . just thinking . . . you said . . . I had . . . a big arse.'
'You said . . . I was brain dead.'
'Do . . . I have . . . a big . . . bum?'
'To tell you . . . the truth . . . I've never really . . . studied it. Am I . . . brain . . . dead?'
'Yes . . . you must be . . . to follow me . . . in here . . .
'I was . . . following . . . your big . . . arse.'
Jimmy laughed. And she laughed against him.
'I don't want . . . to die,' said Claire.
***
The camera had given its last light. Jimmy closed his eyes. He just wanted it to end now. He tried as best he could to think nice thoughts about home and causing mayhem. Of coming home with a certain look on his face and his mum having a certain look on her face which said, 'What have you done now? He had heard, or read, or been told that when you die you move towards a brilliant white light, and he was aware of one now, glimmering at the edges of his vision. He knew he should fight it, he should hold on to life for as long as he possibly could, but he felt so weak, so desperately cold, he just wanted to give in, just needed to embrace the light — it would be warm and comforting. Jimmy felt his whole body relax. Dying wasn't that hard, he thought, just like going to si . . .
***
Jimmy blinked. A pristine room. Blink. Six beds. Blink. Warm.
His throat was sore and his head ached. But this was nice. The crossover hadn't been too bad. Heaven smelled of antiseptic.
It was a relief. He hadn't held out any great hope of getting into heaven. Hell — much more likely. But this certainly wasn't hell, unless it was some kind of waiting room the Devil used to lull you into a false sense of security.
No, it had to be heaven.
At least until a familiar voice said: 'The sleeper awakes.'
Jimmy twisted his head to his immediate left and saw Scoop sitting in his wheelchair. 'Who . . . what . . .?' he stammered.
'Where and when,' Scoop laughed. 'Welcome back to the land of the living, young man.'
'I don't under . . .'
'Got your e-mail. Took me a while to open it. Just in time, it seems. Another half an hour and you would have been gonners.'
'Claire?'
'Better powers of recovery. But then anger can often spur you on to great physical feats.'
'I don't under . . .'
'This thing about Pedroza.'
'What about. . .?'
'Her father doesn't believe her, so she's been up screaming and crying at him for the past hour. Pedroza denies it all of course . . .'
Jimmy pulled himself up into a sitting position. 'He locked us in!'
'He doesn't deny that. He says he saw the freezer door open when it shouldn't have been, so he locked it.'
'He switched it on!'
'He was supposed to. It has to be ready for food when we dock.'
'He looked directly at us, he smiled!'
'He denies it. And I must admit, I've never known him to smile.'
'You don't believe us either?'
Scoop took a deep breath. 'Well, son, it's not a question of my believing you. I'm a journalist, I just look at the facts. And I'll be perfectly honest here — you're a stowaway with a history of trouble-making and Claire's a rich kid with a habit of making things up: and Pedroza's been with the White Star Line for fifteen years and despite having a bit of a temper has never been in trouble once. Plus, there's certainly no evidence of this phantom family Claire claims to have seen.'
'She saw it.'
'How do you know?'
'She . . . told me . . . and there was a child's handprint on . . .'
'Yes, she claimed that as well. I checked myself. No sign of it.'
'That doesn't mean . . .' Jimmy sighed. 'That's just . . . so typical!' He folded his arms and glared at the floor. It was good to be alive. But it would have been so much better to have been alive and believed. 'We nearly died in there!'
'Yes, you did.' But it wasn't Scoop, it was another officer, standing in the doorway, smiling in. 'Jimmy, isn't it?'
The officer crossed to him and extended his hand. Jimmy took it somewhat warily. 'I'm Doctor Hill. Frank. Frank Hill. I saved your life. No need to thank me, but if you ever strike it rich a nice cheque would be appreciated.'
He was warm and sunny. Jimmy was feeling exactly the opposite of warm and sunny.
'Pedroza tried to kill us,' he said.
'He's been trying to kill us for years,' laughed Dr Hill. 'Have you tried his scrambled eggs?'
'This isn't funny!' Jimmy exploded.
Dr Hill nodded thoughtfully. 'No — you're right. It's not funny. Scrambled eggs are a serious business.' He laughed again, put a hand on Jimmy's brow, checked his pulse, then made a brief note on a chart at the foot of his bed. 'Not too much damage done, Jimmy — no missing fingers or toes due to frostbite, but I'd still like you to stay in bed for the rest of the day. 'Then he gave Jimmy a wink, replaced the chart and left the room, humming.
'I hate this!' Jimmy roared. 'Why does nobody believe us?'
He thumped the bed in frustration.
Scoop reached down beside his chair and picked up a sheaf of papers. 'Well — maybe you won't hate this! He held up a copy of the first dummy edition of the ship's newspaper, the Titanic Times. Jimmy saw the main headline, Mysterious Virus Affects California, in big bold letters, but his attention was focussed on the line beneath: by James Armstrong.