Chapters (45)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Prologue
- 2046
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- About the Author
‘You’re okay,’ Doctor Watson says deeply, his voice giving reassurance as she comes back to the land of the living. ‘Safa . . . you’re okay . . . just wake slowly . . . everything is fine. I’m going to take your wrist for a minute,’ he says. Malcolm, Konrad and Roland have all told him how fast her reactions are and that she hates being touched. He lifts her wrist, detects the pulse and stares at his watch.
‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘Good morning,’ he says with a smile.
‘I said who the fuck are you . . . ?’ Safa glares up at the craggy face then down to his hand holding her wrist.
‘Doctor Watson,’ Doctor Watson says. ‘No relation. Nothing to do with Sherlock Holmes . . .’
‘Who? What the . . . ?’
‘Never mind. Pulse is fine. I’m going to check your eyes and ears.’
‘You fucking—’
‘Oh shut up,’ he says with a huff, silencing her instantly. ‘Follow my fingers.’ He waves his hand past her eyes. ‘Good. Any blurred vision? No? Good. Ears.’ He shines a torch in and dares touch her face to move her head to see into the other one. ‘Good . . .’
‘Are you the doctor we saved?’
‘Good detective skills.’
‘I’m shit at investigating.’
‘Clearly.’
‘I prefer hitting people until they answer me.’
‘Really? Does that work for you?’
‘Dunno, want to find out?’
He smiles and chuckles. ‘I am the doctor you saved. Thank you,’ he adds with sincerity.
‘Where’s Ben and Harry? Ben came and got us . . . so he’s alive then . . . is he okay now? Where’s Harry? HARRY? BEN?’
‘Good Lord, you are impulsive.’
‘Here,’ Harry calls out from the middle room. ‘Don’t beat the doctor up.’
‘Ben?’ she asks, sitting up.
‘You should rest,’ Doctor Watson says. Knowing she will ignore him the same way Ben ignored him and Harry ignored him.
‘BEN?’
‘He is fine,’ Doctor Watson says. ‘He wanted to be here but I made him wait in the dining room.’
‘Dining room? Have we got a dining room now?’ Safa asks, still glaring at him.
‘The room with the food.’
‘The main room.’
‘Or the dining room,’ Doctor Watson says. ‘Does it hurt when you breathe in? Which I’m assuming it doesn’t seeing as you are shouting perfectly well.’
‘I’m fine,’ she says. ‘Thirsty though . . . can I have some water?’
He passes the cup. ‘Just sip it . . . sip it . . . I said SIP IT . . . oh, for the love of God, you people are just impossible to treat.’
‘What?’ she asks, lowering the now empty cup. ‘I was thirsty.’
‘I did that and got told off too,’ Harry calls through.
‘You seen Ben yet?’ she calls out.
‘Wow,’ Doctor Watson mutters and waves a hand in front of Safa. ‘Can you see me? Do I exist? Am I ghost? Perhaps you have brain damage and need medicating again . . . I said Ben is in the dining room . . .’
‘Main room.’
‘Fine! Whatever,’ Doctor Watson says.