That Elusive Cure 40

High on the thought of curing Sally of her manic-ness, I turned on Jimmy. “Right, your turn.”

“Oh, no…” He looked sideways at the pod. “Not really interested right now.”

Bob smirked as he laced up his trainers. “Afraid of the big bad machine?”

“No!” Jimmy took a cautious step towards it. “I just don’t want to go in right now.”

I knew this side of Jimmy, the refusal to try anything new until he was absolutely good and ready.

“Why wouldn’t you want to go in right now?” I asked.

Taking a few steps towards the exit, he waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve got to get back to work.” He checked his phone. “Got a meeting with my manager in half an hour. I’ve got to prepare for it.”

I stifled a laugh.

Then he dropped the ultimate Jimmy avoidance line: “Some of us have to work, you know.”

There would be no Jimmy scans today. I shook my head at Bob mouthing no. The scientist looked like he was about to start in on Jimmy in a big way. All that would do was get his back up, and I had to live with the man.

“Oh, almost forgot.” The scarf lay discarded over the back of an upside down pew. My heart skipped a beat as I realised after all our precautions we’d almost walked merrily out into the street. Despite all his help in getting the machine fixed, he was still an unknown quantity to me. And to be honest, in his position, I’d make it my mission to steal the pod.

Bob complained but allowed me to wrap the scarf around his head. Jimmy opened up the car and we led him to the back seat and made him lie down again.

“Home then,” I said.

The church was locked up, safe and sound. The machinery was working again, producing more of those little miracle particles. A plan to break Sally out of the hospital was hatching in my brain. I’d get her here in fifteen days on the nose and mend her broken brain. She’d be the Sally of old, before she started showing symptoms. I blew a kiss to the giant oak door as Jimmy pulled away.

Despite being blindfolded and tossed in the backseat of our car, Bob chattered non-stop all the way home. He was spewing all kinds of technical talk that I didn’t understand a word of. I think he was a step further down the line to figuring out the nanoparticles we’d given him. Maybe he’d memorised enough of the guts of the machine to start making his own. That would be fine with me. Then he wouldn’t have to find ours and steal it.

I stretched back, feeling a little more comfortable, more rested and secure than I could remember. A slight smile on Jimmy’s lips was probably matched with my own version. This was the time to be quietly confidant, if ever there was one.

Home was as we left it, with Bob’s old car like a stain on the pavement. If he did figure out the secrets of the machine he’s soon have more money than he’d know what to do with. I wondered if he’d keep Bessie.

I opened up the front door. Bob was emerging from the backseat, the scarf now in his hands and still babbling scientific nonsense at us. The postie had been and I picked up the letters, shuffling though as I made my way to the kitchen. The day had started early and I was desperate for a decent cup of tea.

Halfway to the kitchen I stopped dead. There among the bills and junk mail was a creamy envelope with my name handwritten in tidy script. I dropped the other cards on the table and ripped the flap.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Jimmy came up behind me and peered over my shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s from Richard Newland.”

He shook his head, confused. “Who?”

“Newland, he’s the guy that started all of this. He’s the guy who owns the church.”

“Oh shit.” Jimmy sat heavily on a chair. “What did you ask him?”

I put a hand to my tummy to try and quell the growing butterflies there. “I don’t remember exactly. Just asked where the machine came from, I think.” I scanned the letter, too anxious to read it word for word. I saw something about trips away and…

“Oh no.”

“What? What is it?” Jimmy sat forward, his eyes fixed on the letter. “What does he say?”

Aware of Bob stood somewhere behind me, and unsure whether he should be privy to the letter, I read the letter out regardless.

Here goes nothing, I thought and began to speak.

“Dear Kath,

Thank you for your letter. I must admit it was a great surprise to be found. I was under the impression that my part in this was anonymous.”

That was funny, it seemed Mr Newland was like an urban legend when it came to the machine, with his name banded about by all and sundry.

“It has been a number of years since I last set eyes on the church and that wonderful MicroHealth pod. I would very much like to see it again.”

Shit, shit, shit. The words blurred as I tried to see the entire letter all at the same time.

“I do hope that wonderful machine has given you a new lease of life – a cancer-free life as it has surely done to so many people already. I’m not sure I can answer as many questions as you hope about the origins, but I will certainly do my best.

The health benefit from the machine means I have retained the energy levels of a far younger man. Although I’m in my eighties now, I still hold the reins to my company. I have to attend a business gathering in Scotland next week, after that I would be honoured to meet you and see the machine one more time.”

If I could push him back enough the pod might have finished fixing itself. Maybe, just maybe we’d get through this without anyone realising we’d broken the precious machine.  

“I feel the time has come to confess how I came to own the machine, and I look forward to imparting this knowledge on you. I will call closer to the date of my visit.

Warm regards,

Rich”

Jimmy stared at me, a stunned expression on his face. I figured mine matched.

“I need to be there. You can say I’m your brother.”

I’d forgotten about Bob.

The scientist continued, “If I know how it was made maybe I can find out more about how the machinery works and move towards manufacturing more pods. Imagine having one in every hospital.” He paused then said, “There wouldn’t be hospitals anymore, they’d be in every doctor’s office. No sick people anymore.” His eyes glazed over. “We’ll be the richest people on the planet.”

Jimmy looked over my shoulder at Bob, the mention of money grabbing his attention.

“Look you two, before you decide what colour your Lamborghini is going to be let’s get through this meeting with Rich. Okay?”

I stalked through to the kitchen and up to the calendar. In black marker I wrote 15 on today’s square and circled it. Then I wrote 14 on tomorrow’s and kept going until I got to the number 1. On the Tuesday two weeks and a day away I drew an X. Nerves got the better of me again, and I capped the pen and dropped it back into the pen pot, wondering how on earth I would last the fortnight.