He stood in the shower for a good ten minutes when he got back to his hotel room, letting the warm water soothe away the aches and pains of the run. He towelled himself dry, dressed in jeans and a plain white T-shirt and called Tally.
‘I thought you’d be on your way to Sweden by now. Where are you?’
‘Change of plan, I’m still in town. How about dinner this evening?’
Tally hesitated for a moment before saying, ‘Ye.. es, if we could make it a bit later. I have a class.’
‘Of course. What are you doing?’
‘Conversational French. I’m planning on going touring there in the late summer with friends.’
‘Good for you. ‘Tell me where the class is and I’ll pick you up.’
Steven asked at the reception desk whether there were any French restaurants in Leicester.
‘Indian, no problem,’ said the girl with what Steven thought might be an edge to her voice. ‘But French… I’ll have to ask Carol.’
The girl returned from the back office with the name and phone number of a restaurant written down on a ‘with compliments’ slip. Steven called the number and made a reservation at Le Gavroche for nine.
It was raining when Tally emerged from the school her class was being held in. She held her briefcase over her head as she looked right and then left for Steven outside the gates and before he got out the car and waved to her.
‘Gosh, I’ve never been in one of these before,’ said Tally as she made a meal of getting into the Porsche while Steven held the door. ‘Not exactly conducive to decorum… are they,’ she exclaimed as her knees came up almost to her chin. ‘I feel as if I’m sitting in the road.’
Steven ran round and got in. ‘You’re a good… two inches off it,’ he grinned as he started the car.
‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
Ten minutes later, Tally leaned forward in her seat to read the name above the restaurant they were stopping near. ‘Oh, how sweet,’ she exclaimed on seeing the French name. ‘And how thoughtful, thank you.’
‘Have you been here before?’
‘I didn’t know it existed,’ confessed Tally.
‘So neither of us know what the food’s like,’ said Steven with a smile. ‘Fingers crossed.’
On entering the restaurant, first impressions were good. The place was warm and welcoming and they were shown to their table by a waiter who seemed either French or very good at affecting the accent in the cause of ambience. They sipped Kir Royale while looking at the menu.
‘So, why no Swedish trip?’ asked Tally.
‘I’ve been warned off,’ said Steven, still smarting at what had happened.
Tally read the signals well and decided not to probe too much. ‘That must have been disappointing.’
‘People “at the highest level” have assured my boss that the kid is okay and doesn’t have some awful disease. That being the case, there is no need for me to visit him at the clinic… is there?’
‘You obviously think otherwise?’ Tally asked calmly.
They paused while the waiter took their order.
‘I still don’t know why he was taken to Sweden or what’s going on with the other kids from the school camp,’ said Steven.
‘Does this mean you’ll have to drop the investigation altogether or can you work round the problem?’
‘I’ve only agreed not to go to Sweden but that was the next logical thing for me to do so I’m not sure where I go from here.’
‘You could talk to the boy’s family,’ suggested Tally.
‘I don’t have an address,’ said Steven. ‘It was hard enough work getting his name. If I now ask to get his address…’
‘They’ll know what you’re up to and it might be seen as a breach of your… gentlemen’s agreement.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat,’ said Tally brightly. ‘You could get it from the boy’s school.’
Steven looked at her.
‘You said there were around a hundred pupils at the camp?’
‘A hundred and eight.’
That suggests maybe ten school parties at most, probably fewer. You should be able to find out which schools were there at the time and then establish which one the boy was at. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get his address from the school records. All you need is a plausible excuse.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Steven. ‘Remind me never to underestimate you.’
‘I hope you weren’t even considering it…’ smiled Tally.
Their first course of deep fried Camembert with redcurrant jelly arrived and Steven said, ‘Let’s talk about sunnier things. Tell me all about your trip to France.’
At the end of a pleasant evening filled with laughter at reminiscences of times past, Tally invited Steven in for a nightcap. ‘I really enjoyed this evening,’ she said, returning from the kitchen with two small cups of coffee and two balloon glasses of Calvados. ‘I thought we’d maintain the French flavour to the evening.’
‘I had a good time too,’ said Steven, raising his glass to her.
‘Here’s to ships that pass in the night,’ said Tally, raising hers.
Steven smiled at the point she was making.
‘Back to London tomorrow?’ asked Tally.
‘Not until I find out what school the boy was attending. If the original intention was to admit him to your hospital then it seems probable that he attended one of the schools here in the city.’
‘Good thinking.’
‘Can I call you tomorrow?’
‘Yes, I’d like to know how you get on.’
‘That wouldn’t be my reason for calling you…’ said Steven, making deliberate eye contact.
Tally smiled and said, ‘Steven… I know we’re attracted to each other but logic says that this isn’t going anywhere… My life is here and you’re just passing through.’
‘It’s not that far from London.’
‘It would never work.’
‘We could make it work.’
Steven put down his glass and took Tally’s hands in his. Tally looked as if she was having difficulty with an inner struggle. Her head was telling her one thing but her body quite another. Steven took her in his arms and kissed her. Tally was tentative at first but then seemed to relax but only until her head won the battle. She put both hands on Steven’s chest and pushed him away gently. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I only met you a couple of days ago and you’ll probably be gone tomorrow
… It’s been nice but let’s just leave it at that.’
‘If you say so,’ said Steven sadly. He smiled and kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘ Bonne nuit, madame.’
First thing next morning Steven called Pinetops school camp and asked for the names of the schools which had pupils staying there at the time of the TB alert. There were nine in all and one of them was in Leicester. Seeing this as being the favourite, he obtained the number from Directory Enquiries and called the school office, saying that he was a Department of Health official, checking on the pupils who’d been given BCG vaccine when staying at Pinetops. Steven ticked the names off his list of green sticker children as the woman read them out. She stopped after twelve and Steven prompted, ‘And of course, Anwar Mubarak?’
‘He’s not one of ours,’ said the woman.
‘You’re absolutely sure?’ said Steven.
‘I’ve never heard of him.’
‘Really? He’s the boy who was taken ill at the camp; I thought he was one of your pupils?’
‘Definitely not. Sorry.’
Steven tried the school nearest to Leicester and got the same result. He grew more puzzled and frustrated as the schools dwindled to leave just one, the school Trish Lyons went to in Edinburgh. As there were only twelve names left on his green sticker list he asked the administrator to confirm the names as he read them out. He ticked off twelve before adding, ‘And Anwar Mubarak.’
‘No, he’s not one of ours.’
Steven closed his eyes and said, ‘He was the boy who caused the scare, the one who fell ill.’