“Em, we can just go home, you know. Right now. You can just call the hospital and tell whoever you tell that you’re resigning. The world won’t collapse. We can just go. I mean, the Met showing up unannounced sounds like a pretty good reason to step back anyway, doesn’t it?”
I feel my resolve falter—he’s right, there’s something so incredibly off about all of this—but then I remember Matthew’s words that first night. How could he know those things unless he’d been there that night, or known someone who was? I need to know who he is. I think of his trust in me yesterday as he struggled for breath. I push the feeling away.
“No. I said I’d do it, Joe. I told my patient that I’d help him. I promised him that everything would be okay.”
Joe’s tone softens. “That’s not your call, Emma. You don’t get to control whether everything is okay or not. You’re not omnipotent. You can only do your best. This, all of this, is too much. For someone so intelligent you can be so stupid! Let someone else handle it. This guy—whoever he turns out to be—is not your responsibility.”
“No, Joe, he is. He actually is because that is my job. I wish I could leave it to someone else but no one else here has my expertise. I’m the only person here, medically, whocanhelp him.” I’m saying it but I don’t know if it’s true. I’m sure there are other doctors Peter could call. Maybe Richard Groves could take over remotely. Perhaps it might be better, for Matthew, for me, if I did step aside, given his strange connection to me. I take in Joe’s exasperated face. “All right,” I say, finally. “I’ll stop. I’ll just do the rest of today, okay? Then I’ll stop. I’ll tell them I need to hand over.”
Joe holds my gaze. “Promise? You’ll sort this Met thing out and then you’ll let them know you’re done? You’ll resign from this case?”
“Yes,” I say, fingering the car keys in my hand. If Matthew is the missing Benjamin Taylor, then all my questions about how he knows me are redundant anyway, aren’t they? The sooner I find out if he’s Benjamin, the sooner I’ll know this is all in my head. “But right now, I really need to go in, Joe.”
He sighs, then nods. “I’ll come to the hospital with you and get the train back home from King’s Lynn. You can call me later, let me know how it goes.”
I turn back to him. “Wait, Joe, I don’t think you should come.” He looks confused, so I explain. “The press found out Matthew was talking yesterday, they’re all over the hospital. I don’t want you to have to go through that. It’s like before.”
The color drains from his cheeks and he swallows before rallying. “Well, they better watch out, hadn’t they, ’cause I don’t know about you, but I’ve certainly learned a few tricks since then.” He gives a winning smile just as my phone explodes into life again.
29
DR. EMMA LEWIS
DAY 10—TINKER, TAYLOR,
SOLDIER, SPY
Media tents line the back of the car park like festival booths. There are television trucks, presenters getting makeup touch-ups while they scan scripts, production runners dashing back and forth. Someone’s even set up a food truck to feed them all. And I thought it was bad when I left last night after the news broke that Matthew was talking. It seems I’m the last to hear about the Met’s involvement in the case. I feel Joe shift in the car seat next to me.Oh God, I shouldn’t have brought him here. Why did I let him come?
They recognize my car as soon as I pull up to the staff bay, and start shouting and running toward the car—they know I’m Mr. Nobody’s doctor. And they know that if I’m back at the hospital, then something is definitely happening. I look to Joe. He nods and pops his car door. Thankfully, I catch sight of the security chief, Trevor, ahead of the throng rushing toward us. When he gets close enough he eyes Joe quickly before launching into an update.
“The Met just gave a press statement out front. The parents are on their way, apparently.” He curses. “These lot are all here to see the Taylors.”
I catch Joe’s eye.Jesus.
A barrage of questions rolls toward me. “Dr. Lewis, can you confirm that Matthew is the missing Taylor child?”
“Benjamin Taylor disappeared in September of 1992. Do you have any knowledge of his whereabouts over the twenty-seven years he’s been missing?”
“Have you spoken with the parents yet, Dr. Lewis?” I become aware that a camera crew is now filming us as we walk, the cameraman walking backward in front of us as our strange parade rushes on.
“Is the patient making a speedy recovery, Dr. Lewis?”
“Does he have any memory yet of the trauma he’s been through?”
“Was he held against his will for the duration?”
“Can we expect to see Benjamin out of hospital soon, Doctor?”
Trevor fends them off, holding the crowd back as we head inside. As we break through into the lobby I gasp in a breath and three security guards block the way of the press after us. The doors slide shut, muffling their shouted questions. I try to keep my expression neutral, even though every pore wants to screamLeave us alone. I’m keenly aware that we’re still on camera. Joe’s expression is unreadable, except for his eyes. In them I see that haunted look I remember so well. We’ve been through walks like this before, Joe and I. And they don’t get easier.
As I leave Joe with Trevor to head back to the train station via the back entrance, he hugs me, tight. “Call me after you’ve done it,” he whispers.
—
Matthew is waiting for me on the ward.
He’s standing with his back to me, staring out the window at the crisp winter blue of the open sky, not a cloud in sight. “They told me I might be called Benjamin. I don’t feel like a Benjamin.” He speaks with a lightness that almost breaks my heart.
