Cure

By Steven John Howard

The book is an action-packed thriller, a roller coaster of a read with a pace that increases throughout and has lots of twists and turns in its cunning plot, climaxing in an explosive and gratifying end, with excitement, love, violence, and scenes of a highly sexual nature. A young scientist believes that she has found the answer to curing the worlds most incurable disease, cancer; however, there are greater forces, higher powers, and very influential people that want to see the cure suppressed and controlled by them. The colorful characters throughout are what make the story the nail-biter it is as they fight to control the cure each for their very different reasons and purpose. Will Claire Blake and her friends survive the frightening ordeals that are to come their way? The story isnt just a shoot-em-up, car-chase, espionage, cops-n-bad-guys theme; it also touches on terrorism, religion, and many moral viewpoints that are influenced by our worlds governments and holy leaders. An enjoyable read but strictly for adults!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Mar 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546290278

Steven John Howard

Steven J Howard was born in Rotherham in 1966, his parents worked full time and as a child was raised with help from his grandparents aunties and uncles, in Rotherham and Parkgate, South Yorkshire, England, where he was the town dare devil, stunting, racing buses on his skateboard down Rawmarsh Hill and jumping bikes over his friends who lay on the ground as cannon fodder if the bike jump went wrong. Later, street racing for cash, his nickname earned The Wod mirroring this later as a Paramedic they called him The Fly for his unsurpassed response times. He studied Mining and Mineral Engineering at Sheffield Polytechnic and Leeds University. Employed as Sales Director for a Doncaster Engineering company he travelled the globe before been laid off in the great recession of 1990, he then served on the frontline as a Paramedic leaving after fifteen years starting his own limited company, HART UK Ltd, providing Confined Space Rescue and Rescue from Height to Blue-chip companies such as TATA Steel and Scottish Power, he retired as CEO of the company in 2011 to be with his daughter Lily Mae. In 2010 he lost his mother to Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma and in 2016 lost his father to stomach Cancer. His parents were his inspiration, and he looked after his dad for twelve months until he sadly lost the battle, hence the subject of this first hopefully best-selling fictional thriller adventure novel, there is plenty of ink left in Stevens pen and he looks forward to you reading his next roller coaster that you simply cannot get off.

Book preview

2018 Steven John Howard. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/12/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9017-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9027-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

DEDICATIONS

This book is dedicated to the people trying to find a cure for all of mankind’s diseases, cancer being just one. And to my dear departed Mum and Dad, who were both taken from us prematurely by cancer. Also to the many sufferers and their families and friends, that illness has affected. God bless you all.

THANKS

Firstly I would like to thank my wife, Claire, and my beautiful daughter Lily Mae and son Chris, for their support while writing this book, which has taken a lot of time and dedication from not only me, but my family and friends too. Without their inspiration, I would never have tried to write a story with such deep purpose and meaning to me as this.

I would also like to thank my dear friends, Jud Cure for her encouragement and tenacity, Helen Sykes and Maurice Patterson, and fellow fiction author David Green who helped with the editing process by reading the book and informing me which bits are good and which bits needed refinement, thank you for your support and honesty.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Steven John Howard was born in Rotherham, England 1966, the year England won the FIFA World Cup, beating West Germany 4-2. His parents worked full time, his father a crane driver and his mother a welder. As a child he was raised with help from his grandparents, aunties and uncles in South Yorkshire. Steve was a young dare devil, stunting, racing buses on his skateboard, and jumping bicycles over his friends who lay on the ground too scared to open their eyes. His hero was the great Steve McQueen. Later in life, street racing, Steven earned his nickname ‘Wod’ (relating to cash), mirroring this as he matured into a more responsible front line emergency driver, when his colleagues nicknamed him ‘Fly’ for his unsurpassed response times. He studied Mining and Mineral Engineering at Sheffield City Polytechnic and at Leeds University, where he excelled in Geology. His first taste of work was as a demolition expert for Steetley Quarry Products at Cadeby during his sandwich course at Sheffield Polytechnic. Then employed as director of sales for a Doncaster engineering company, he travelled the globe, but as orders dwindled and Britain’s economy suffered, Steve was laid off in the recession of 1991. He then trained and served as a front line Paramedic, leaving the service after fifteen years, suffering posttraumatic stress disorder following a high speed motorcycle accident occurring in 2000. He still has PTSD, but after leaving YAS in 2008, has very little stress these days to set off his symptoms, and he is fully supported by his family. Steven started his own ambulance rescue company, HART UK Ltd, providing Doctors, Paramedics and Firefighters, Confined Space Rescue and Rescue from Height to Blue-chip companies such as TATA Steel and Scottish Power. He retired as CEO from the extremely lucrative company in 2011, to spend more time with his family and his baby daughter Lily Mae. Back in 2010, Steven had lost his mother Irene to Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma after a 2 year fight, and in 2016 fate struck another blow, this time losing his father John to stomach cancer. His parents were his inspiration, and Steven helped look after his Mum from September 2008 to July 2010 and his Dad from 2015 to November 2016 as they both battled the disease, hence the subject of this first, ‘hopefully’ best-selling, fictional thriller, adventure novel. There is plenty of ink left in Steven’s pen, and we look forward to reading his next novel, a book that you simply cannot put down, he has titled ‘FUEL’. Steven supports and donates to Broom Valley Hospice, whose staff took care of his father in Rotherham, and other charity causes close to his heart, such as Cancer Research UK, Yorkshire Air Ambulance and The British Heart Foundation, to mention but a few.

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

I am penning my next controversial novel ‘FUEL’ at this very moment; it will be another raunchy World domination action thriller, full of loveable rogues, beautifully sensual and powerful woman, and a host of colourful characters. I do hope that reading this thriller encourages other budding authors to write their first piece, whether fact or fiction, or a mixture of the two. It is such a compelling art once you start, I love it. As a paramedic I relished helping people, made many friends and saved countless lives, in my writing I hope to awaken emotions and simply entertain, improving life in a small way, giving my readers experiences within their own imagination and new thoughts to ponder. I put a proportion of my earnings into my charitable causes, the charities mentioned are very worthy of any donations from anyone interested, please visit their Websites. God bless to you all, and happy reading.

Love to all my readers, Steven J Howard.

Copyright to this work is held by the author Steven John Howard and any reproduction in any format, copying or download of this work is strictly prohibited without the specific permission of Steven John Howard the author and owner of this material. All rights withheld by the author and his next of kin. In the event of the author’s demise, the copyright ownership shall be transferred to his dear wife Claire Chantelle Howard along with all the rights to the material and its permission to be used or distributed and royalties from any future sales. These said rights are to be passed on to the subsequent generations of Steven J Howard starting with his daughter Lily Mae Howard and son Christopher Michael Howard.

CONTENTS

Dedications

Thanks

About the author

A word from the author

Chapter 1   The works

Chapter 2   It begins

Chapter 3   Where’s he gone?

Chapter 4   Finland

Chapter 5   Armoury

Chapter 6   Meet the boss and the German

Chapter 7   Cairngorms rumble

Chapter 8   Contact

Chapter 9   Cold grave

Chapter 10   Man down

Chapter 11   Nice Surprise

Chapter 12   The Newbold Church

Chapter 13   A couples plans

Chapter 14   Pope on a rope

Chapter 15   A mystery revealed

Chapter 16   A tale of longevity

Chapter 17   Finland at last

Chapter 18   One year later

CHAPTER 1

THE WORKS

Claire Blake was working on ground breaking cancer gene therapy. She had always enjoyed science, and as a child would watch nature programs on TV with her father.

Sat on his lap, Claire would ask him questions like how do Cuttlefish change their colour Daddy. Now, aged thirty two and recently married, she had worked at XMed for the past five years, and was the youngest head of department in the company. Claire had worked on the chemical splicing of genes, to develop an oral drug which could retard growth of all cancer cells. Claire knew she was on the verge of a scientific breakthrough unlike the world of medicine had ever witnessed, and all from a few rain forest plant extracts and bacteria. Her mother would be so proud, and if he were still living, her father would have placed her on the highest pedestal.

Claire’s father was the main catalyst in her work, influencing the direction her research had taken. He had passed away after suffering for two long years with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Claire was left with fond memories of the good times she’d spent with her parents, but was also racked with guilt for not having fought the disease alongside her father, after all, the cancer he had was curable. It was unfortunate his Doctor hadn’t picked up on the symptoms quickly enough, as preventative treatment may have saved him, Claire was not bitter with anyone but herself. But now, four years on, fifty six out of a hundred patients that volunteered to trial her new drug formula, had made remarkable recovery. Twenty nine had cancer growth retarded so much that their cancers had shrunk, only marginally, but still, the patients and their families were ecstatic. They were at the stage where full human trials should be offered throughout all cancer treatment centers to volunteer subjects.

Claire looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it read 20:09hrs, she’d thought it was only five in the afternoon. The rest of her staff had already vacated the labs, and the only sound to be heard was the cleaner’s voices, as they entered the building’s canteen area at the start of their shift. After making themselves a hot mug of coffee, they caught up on the gossip as they filled their buckets, and then proceeded with the mundane task of cleaning the grime away. Chatting to one-another and singing along to the sounds on their radio, the crew of three women started work, and quickly settled into their rhythm.

Claire logged off her computer and unplugged her memory stick, which she then attached to her gold necklace, kissing it. The piece of hi-tech jewellery was a one off, custom made, her fiancé had it specially commissioned before he proposed when on a romantic tour of South Africa. Maurice had laughed as she replied, I’ll think about it Romeo. It was carved from the blackest Ebony, with a cluster of half carat diamonds in the shape of her star sign, Leo, embedded in twenty four carat gold along with a state of the art hundred and twenty eight gigabit of memory tucked away, safe, secure and discretely within. Maurice had bought it her instead of an engagement ring, he knew Claire would never wear a ring. To Claire rings were hazardous. At work, regulations stated they had to be removed. While rock climbing or skiing, rings always ended up getting snagged or caught up in clothing, got damaged, caused injury. Claire was not a ring wearing girl! In fact, she was more Tom boy than any girl Maurice had ever met. This is what he found attractive. Claire stood her ground in confrontations, and had the physique of a top athlete to back that up, reveling in competition skiing and climbing; adrenaline hobbies the newlywed couple lived for. In Claire’s mind, they were a match and one hundred percent in love.

Claire stood from her desk and walked to the office door. Looking back, she turned off the lights, darkness spilling into the white modern space. Staring into the dark void, Claire thought about the day’s advancements; a picture of her father’s smiling face appeared in her imagination, and her eyes glowed hot with grief. She took the elevator down to ground level, and exited the lift wiping her runny nose. It was then that Claire heard the night guard, Roger, say Good night Miss……. I mean Mrs. Blake. I still don’t think you’re old enough to be married Ma’am.

Claire replied, Good night to you Roger, and flattery will get you everywhere, she threw him a smile, to which the old guard replied, Give my regards to Mr. Blake. I will that Roger, good night and don’t work too hard. She felt the day had been extremely successful and she had reached a new point of accomplishment in the research, now the days’ work had to be put into a new component of the drugs development; and that meant meeting with the board of Directors. In order to be granted permission to proceed with her brand new drug’s refinements, the board would firstly, have to agree fully; they surely would, and she would get the Nobel Prize for her achievement, but more importantly it would save suffering that the disease brings to the thousands of families affected. Claire smiled inwardly with pride, and then exited the building.

The night air was cold and quiet; March in Edinburgh was usually cold and tonight was no exception. Approaching the car, she remotely unlocked it and opened the driver side door, throwing her handbag onto the passenger seat before sliding onto the cold leather upholstery. Pressing the large red button she started the engine, throwing the demister switch onto full defrost. Claire sat there, still, hugging herself from the cold and watching steam from her breath blow clouds across her vision; the heated leather seats of the BMW X5 slowly bringing warmth to her skin. As the windscreen slowly cleared she looked up, only to see that a car had parked near the entrance steps to the laboratory foyer. Roger was just returning to his desk, where he would sit and observe the monitors that were positioned out of the public’s sight, beneath the polished white granite counter top. Claire looked up at the cold white eight stories building, only to see that the lights had been turned on both in the 6th floor labs and in addition the lights were on in her private office. She sat there a while thinking ‘I remember turning them off, the cleaners will turn them off any time now’, but she waited a further few minutes while the BMW’s windows had completely cleared from their coating of fury white frost crystals, and still the lights remained on. She was about to switch her car off to go and ask Roger what the cleaners were doing in her lab and office, as it was out of the ordinary, they usually clean one floor at a time as stated under the companies ‘lone worker policy’ when her mobile rang.

It was linked through the cars blue tooth stereo, and set to auto answer Hi love, the loud voice boomed from the speaker. Her husband Maurice sounded excited, We’ve got it, no kidding chick we have got it, isn’t it great news?

Claire jumped as the phone snapped her out of her thoughts, totally misdirected she asked, Got what?, then, her thoughts coming back into present, Aw, that’s great news, sorry, my mind was elsewhere Lovie, when can we move in? Did they give us a date?.

Just drive home safely and slowly, not with your head in the clouds, they say we can move in by the end of lambing, Maurice sounded a little bashful in his answer, when the hells that? Claire questioned,

Maurice replied, I didn’t ask I was so excited, sorry, I’m not a farmer how do I know?

Claire said, well you will be soon, we can have sheep, chickens, whatever she paused aww, I love you, she kissed him down the phone and said I’ll see you in twenty, and Maurice she paused I love you. She set off and drove still thinking about the lights in her office, but now preoccupied about their new home. ‘I’ll ask Roger about it when I see him’ she thought, and then drove through the bustle of an Edinburgh evening and out to their rented house in the suburb.

As she exited the city, the buildings changed from the mixture of grandioso extreme modern designed monoliths and historic column fronted Victorian buildings, their sandstones stained dark from the city pollutants, with the occasional doorway street dweller wrapped inside their cardboard boxes, to the brick and rendered smaller accommodation’s and oddly placed tower blocks, designed to be filled with the cities work force and the unemployed; these colourful characters making Edinburgh so special, with their guitar singing renditions to gain extra cash and redeem some of their self-respect, even though they have no real job to occupy them. ‘This was the best of humanity’ Claire thought, it gave life purpose, everyone helping each other in different ways, and getting along making the old city function.

She turned into her driveway, a modest detached house, in a middle class street, with middle class residents that seemed to mind each other’s business, the odd small groups of neighbours talked and interacted, but not that many, a nice mix of introverts and extraverts that balance the community and hold it together, making the neighborhood her home, for the time at least. She got out of the car and let herself in.

Hi Lovie, I’ve done spaghetti bolognaise, hope you’re hungry, Maurice’s voice came from the kitchen, which was in need of refurbishment.

Good I’m starving, she kicked off her shoes and walked in stocking feet, to the kitchen, where she embraced him from behind as he stirred the steaming mixture in the pan.

You ready to eat? Pass me the plates love, Maurice took the spaghetti pan off the boil and strained it over the sink, voila, as Maurice plated the spaghetti onto her plate the steam warmed her face, she placed the plate on the kitchen worktop and started to ladle the Bolognaise sauce over it. They sat at the table facing each other as Maurice broke Claire the garlic bread, placing it next to her plate while talking to her in fluent Italian. Maurice was multi lingual, it seemed to come easy to him but Claire didn’t understand a word of it, she just laughed at his joking around. A bottle of red merlot sat open, and center table a large wine glass, which he had half emptied before Claire had parked the car and entered the house.

Maurice spoke between mouthfuls, your mother called, said she was thinking of booking a long haul flight to Australia to spend some time with Ruth and the kids, be nice for her, why don’t we take some time out? After the move that is,

You know I can’t yet, I’m on the verge of a massive breakthrough in my work, time out now could lose me the prize, Claire said, wiping her lips on a napkin, and besides, could you see us all stopping in Ruth’s house and getting on for a month or two, and I don’t fancy travelling to Oz if it’s not for a long visit!

OK, just a suggestion, be nice to have a little break though chick, Maurice replied still twirling a fork full of spaghetti and mixing in the Parmesan. The couple ate, showered, made love and slept solidly.

In the morning the letterbox made its familiar loud ‘kerthunk’ sound as the post lady forced a fistful of envelopes through it, spilling to the floor like a deck of cards, Maurice rolled over and went back to sleep, but Claire sprang out of bed, put her nighty and slippers on and ran down stairs. She grabbed the mail and went to the kitchen where she switched on the kettle, and then opened the first of several letters. The letter was franked XMed and was the only letter of interest to her, as she opened it, the kettle clicked off and she poured the boiling water over two teabags placed in the ceramic teapot. Reading the opening lines of the letter, "Dear Mrs. Blake, I am sorry to inform you that the human drug trials on S66 must be ceased with immediate affect….."

She put the letter down and stirred the teapot, pouring the brew over milk in two china mugs, numbed by the word she had just read.

She carried the teas upstairs, where Maurice was just sitting on the bed after slightly opening the curtains to allow some natural light into the room,

not good news? Maurice said after seeing Claire’s expression of disappointment.

Those arrogant arse holes in charge have stopped the drug trials, Claire was livid; they do not have any idea of the significance this drug has, blinded by red tape, bureaucratic arse holes that is what they are.

Calm down love, they are arse holes, but stressing won’t remedy it, thinking will, Maurice’s voice of reason was reassuring, and made Claire think that the situation could easily be turned around, after a discussion with the board about her latest significant breakthrough they would see reason. The drug is now at a stage where a full cure will be possible, the Holy Grail of medicines, yes, they would listen, and yes, they would approve the trials, she drank her tea, and ate some hot toast that Maurice had just buttered, fresh melting butter glistening on her lips.

She kissed him and said a simple, Thank you, followed by another kiss and a hug.

Claire got off the bed and dusted the crumbs from the sheets that she had inadvertently spilled, mucky pup she thought out loud. Looking at Maurice,

Claire asked I’m going to the supermarket, do you want anything fetching?

Maurice shrugged his shoulders, I don’t know, do I? he grinned.

Claire laughed what would you do without me, not so much a question, but more of a fact, she kissed him and went down stairs. Putting on her winter boots, Claire looked out of the hallway through the lounge window and noted it wasn’t raining, grabbed her car keys and said See you Lovie, and instantly got an echoing reply from the bathroom upstairs.

See you Lovie, drive safely Maurice replied. She locked the front door as she left, but before she got in the car she grabbed the large shopping bags from her car’s boot, as if she didn’t, she would forget them, only remembering when she arrived at the till and having to buy a few more of the £2 Eco bags. As Claire started the car, her stereo played tracks stored on her mobile phone, it had automatically linked by Bluetooth and started playing her play list from where it last stopped. As Oasis ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ played, she sang as she drove, eventually arriving at the supermarket, Claire trundled into the large car park, finding a parking space next to a trolley collecting point. She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and looked in her purse for the shopping list, Shit, Claire had left the list on the kitchen side. She got out of the car remembering her Eco bags, and entered the large store. Racking her thoughts for what they needed, she knew she would miss something, but that was life; there was always something needed.

Claire had not thought straight since reading the rejection letter from work, pushing the trolley she went into auto pilot, filling the trolley in the first four isles, and then collecting only the essentials, milk, eggs, bread and butter; why would they pull the funding for her work? Was the company in financial trouble? She would ask them directly when she went into work on Thursday, it wasn’t going to spoil her day off, her Wednesday was her mid-week breather, her weekly day off when work didn’t matter, and she could catch up with her household chores and of course her husband, Maurice. She got in the queue for the tills, and as it cleared, reached over the conveyor belt for the ‘next customer’ bar, to separate her shopping from the person’s in front.

As she did so, a voice shouted Claire Morton! Well I never! her old school friend recognising her. Claire looked up, her expression illuminated with a smile

Georgina Stewart, how are you? Claire replied, By the way, its Claire Blake now, I’m married and she held up her left hand showing the gold band on her third finger.

Georgina held her left hand up Me too, I’m a Wood now! and she laughed Let’s grab a coffee pointing at the stores restaurant.

OK Claire replied and they both continued to get served. As they sat across from each other,

Georgina asked How long has it been?

Must be at least seven years, we graduated in, let me think, yes, two thousand and ten I think, what did you do with your degree? Claire asked.

Georgina laughed I married a Barrister, my degree is framed on the wall in his office, having three children kind of keeps me busy you know and she smiled have you any children?

Claire looked out of the window at the parent toddler parking, and said Not yet, I’ve not really thought about kids she looked back at Georgina I’m only thirty two, there’s time yet, work seems to… and her speech trailed off. She thought for a moment, her work was her life, she had never, not even once, thought about having a family, Maurice and her were enough No, I haven’t time for kids she stated, and then took a sip of her coffee, wishing she had. Georgina drank her coffee and looked at her watch, a sign that Claire took as ‘let’s get going’ and Claire spoke,Let me have your mobile number and I’ll text you, we can catch up when we both have more time

Claire smiled, she never had time, but she was being polite. The two women exchanged contact details and they went their separate ways. As Claire got in her car, habitually throwing her handbag onto the passenger seat, she noted that Georgina had opened the boot on a brand new seventeen plate Range Rover, and thought to herself, ‘I’m happy for her’, the sight of her old university friend had lightened Claire’s mood.

The drive home was the same as always, and as she pulled onto her driveway, Maurice opened the front door to come out and unload the bounty of shopping from the boot.

You have been ages Claire, was the traffic bad? Maurice asked while carrying two of the heavier bags into the house.

Claire replied No, I just bumped into an old friend and we got chatting

That’s nice Maurice replied Hope I’ve no competition he said as he laughed.

Georgina, she married and became a Wood, three kids and Claire’s expression changed to concern We have never spoke about kids much.

Maurice was quiet, he never wanted kids and thought he had made it clear from the start, apparently not Let’s go out this afternoon for tea, and I fancy watching the new Star Wars film, if they are still showing it, in Hi-Max he looked at Claire, a sideways glance,

she replied Yes, sounds good

We can take my TT, it needs a run said Maurice.

OK and you can buy dinner Claire ended the conversation. She pressed lock on her cars key fob and watched as the lights flashed, confirming it was secure. She showered and blow dried her hair, using a wax to style it, while Maurice finished shaving. As Claire put in her ear rings, Maurice looked at her in the mirror from behind and embraced her, kissing her on the neck he whispered You are beautiful into her ear, they were happy, any thoughts of children had seemingly vanished. Maurice drove the TT as if it was stolen, he enjoyed adrenaline sports and it showed in everything he did, the car stopping in a parking space with a squeal from its tyres. Claire looked at him as he smiled back, while she shook her head in mock annoyance of his erratically fast driving. Claire loved adrenaline sports and enjoyed driving fast, but she never did speed on the public roads, her job was too well respected and she may well loose that respect if she were to be banned.

They watched the film, not Claire’s cup of tea, but she enjoyed the fact that Maurice was glued to the big screen and on the drive home she loudly announced Wine, red wine Maurice looked across at her I forgot the wine, I left my list in the kitchen this morning. Without speaking Maurice carried on driving and called at an Off-License on the route home, pulling up outside ‘Rhythm n Booze’, Claire looked at Maurice My bags in my car Lovie she smiled and Maurice got out of the car, fetched the wine and they drove home. Claire started to rub Maurice’s leg while he drove, aroused by his forceful stature. As the car swung onto their double drive she leant across kissing him passionately and they entered the house kissing while kicking off their shoes, and after locking the front door, they hurried upstairs and into the bedroom to finish what they had started.

Just before sunrise, Claire ate a round of toast, showered, then brushed her teeth and got dressed for work. The car was covered in thick ice after been left parked outside on the driveway all night, she pressed the key fob which unlocked the four wheeled chill cabinet, and with some effort, she pulled the door open; it had frozen shut, sticking to its rubber seal. Claire didn’t start the car straight away; she felt there was something odd, having left her handbag thrown on the passenger seat the day before, and only remembering it now that she had spotted it standing there. The bag was arranged, ‘too perfect’, leaning against the bolstered back rest, placed, positioned deliberately, unusual to say Claire had simply thrown it there the previous day; surely it would be lying down, or on the floor in the passenger foot well where it usually ended up after her chaotic drive home in the city ‘stop start’ traffic. Bemused, she reached over, lifted the bag onto her knee and opened it suspiciously. Everything appeared to be there, but still, it prickled her senses; she shelved the feelings as an overactive imagination and started the engine to defrost the car and warm her seat. As usual, the drive to work encountered congestion on Main Street, cars backed right up to the edge of the city slowing her progress; Claire always left a large margin for error and a timely arrival at the office. Arriving at work, she turned into the parking lot slowing for the automatic barrier and parked in her allocated space, still labelled Miss. C Morton, her maiden name, she stared at the name plaque and smiled, thinking warm sentimental thoughts, memories of her childhood and teenage years flooding her mind; she shook her head still smiling and got out.

Roger gave his usual greeting of, Good morning Mrs. Blake,

Claire replied with a smile and a, very good morning to you Roger, as she signed the electronic register with her finger, and added, can you get them to sort out my parking sign please Roger, it’s been over a month now, I know it’s not your fault.

Sure thing Mrs. Blake, I will give them a reminder, replied the old guard with a wave of his pen, as he noted the request. Claire started to turn and then remembered the lights incident of the other night Oh, the other night Roger, why were the lights on in my lab and office?

Roger looked up at her and replied they were not on Mrs. Blake, not to my Knowledge, unless the new cleaner got in a muddle, or needed a tour by the regular cleaners? If so, they were turned off by the time I did my round at 0030 hours Mrs. Blake.

Claire asked what is she like? The new cleaner that is.

She, is a he Mrs. Blake; mid thirty’s I’d say, came in late for his first shift, I will give him two weeks, doesn’t look like a cleaner if you get my drift Mrs. Blake, too athletic for their coffee club,

Roger smiled and said have a good day Mrs. Blake.

Thanks, go home and get some sleep Roger, and Claire turned towards the lifts.

As she approached her lab, Claire noticed the camera that faced her office door had been turned to point in a different direction; ‘coincidence maybe,’ but she was still on edge,’ her handbag in her car, the letter from above refusing her drug trials,’ everything seemed to be against her,’ was she just feeling paranoid due to being so close to finalization of the drug? Stupid, the camera was probably moved when the new cleaner knocked it whilst dusting, no, things don’t happen in threes, too many coincidences, why a new cleaner, why now?