Page 47 of Prognosis Bad Timing

CHAPTER SIX

CARRIE arrived at thecentre on Wednesday morning and was surprised to see Charlie wasn’t sitting at his desk. Surely she hadn’t beaten him in? They’d barely spoken since his comment on Friday, trading polite, brief conversation only.

She opened the door to the staffroom to find him sitting at the table, turning an envelope over and over in his hands. His usual mug was in front of him.

‘Morning.’

Charlie glanced up from the yellow envelope that contained his test results. For once her pinstriped primness didn’t register. ‘Morning.’

‘Would you like a refill?’ she asked politely, switching the kettle on at the wall.

Charlie tapped the envelope against the wood of the table. ‘Yes, please.’ He drank the cold dregs of his current cup and held it out for her to take.

Carrie put her laptop on the table and took the mug. She put coffee into both the cups, aware of his brooding presence behind her, and poured the boiling water, adding sugar and milk to his and milk only to hers. She carried them over to the table, plonking his down and taking a seat herself.

He was still staring at the envelope. She blew on the hot liquid and took a sip. ‘Worried it’s a letter bomb?’

Charlie gave a grudging smile. ‘What’s in here is potentially explosive.’

It could potentially detonate his whole life.

‘Looks official,’ she commented. The envelope was a generic yellow one they used in most government organisations.

Charlie nodded. ‘It is.’

Carrie took another sip. ‘So...you’re just going to look at it?’

Charlie threw the envelope on the table. ‘They’re my test results.’

She nodded. So he had a blood test the other day, not made a donation. ‘From the blood test you had on Friday?’

‘You’re very observant.’

Carrie smiled. ‘I have a four-year-old. You have to be on the ball.’

He chuckled. ‘Yeah, I bet Dana keeps you on your toes.’

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