‘OK. It took fifteen minutes for everyone to get here and we’re still two short,’ Bill continues. ‘It’s not a brilliant performance, which means we’ll have to do it again at some point, I’m afraid.’ Everyone groans. ‘I’m not doing it for my own benefit,’ he snaps. Bill is officious and a bit of a knob at the best of times, but to be fair, no one is really their best self at two fifteen in the morning. ‘But for now I’ll let you get back to bed. Mara, Danny, if you can kick the absentees from your departments out of bed and send them up to my office ASAP, please. As in now. Not in the morning. This can’t wait. Drills need to be taken seriously. Thank you.’

15

Stuart

17 January 2022, 02:30

The Caribbean

I haven’t even made it back into bed when someone is hammering on my door.

‘Stuart! Stuart! You need to come and help! Now!’ someone is shouting.

I open the door. It’s Bill. He seemed fine about five seconds ago at the drill, so what can suddenly be so urgent?

He’s deathly pale and shaking. ‘I think he’s dead!’ he says. ‘You need to come. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what to do.’

What is he talking about? ‘Who?’ I ask, grabbing my bag. ‘Who’s dead? Are you sure?’

‘Please, you need to come. See if you can do anything,’ he pleads. ‘Something’s happened. He’s, he’s, oh God, I don’t know … I’ve just left him there but, Danny’s there, he’s trying to … you need to come. Maybe you can … I don’t know. Oh God. I’ve never seen a dead body before.’ He turns away and strides off down the corridor. I grab my bag and follow, my heart pounding.

PART THREE

16

Eight years earlier

July 2013

Inverness

Noise. So noisy. All around me, noise.

‘Can you hear me?’ someone shouts in my ear.

‘Uhhhhhhhh,’ I groan. I can’t speak. Everything hurts. I’m moving. I’m on a trolley, I think. There is a bang, and clattering. Something tightens around my arm.

‘Her blood pressure’s dropping!’ someone else shouts. I feel a hand tapping my face. ‘You still awake, love? Stay with us now. Squeeze my hand.’

‘Wh … wh …’ I breathe and try to squeeze but I can’t feel anything. ‘I …’

‘You’re doing great,’ someone else says. I am barely conscious but I register that he sounds kind. ‘I’m going to put a mask over your face now, help with your breathing. Nothing to worry about. Try to stay awake.’

I feel something on my face. It smells of plastic. I don’t like it. I try to turn my head but I can’t.

‘Lie still now, we’re going to take very good care of you,’ the voice says. ‘Can you tell me your name?’