Free A Fierce Radiance by Lauren Belfer Page A

is irrelevant.” Claire tried to match his tone. “I’m giving you the opportunity to be featured in Life magazine. Can’t let a few children keep you away from a chance like that.” In Claire’s experience most people begged to have their stories told in Life . Those who refused often had the most interesting stories to tell. “Don’t you want to show off the history-changing work you’re doing?”
    “Very kind of you to express it that way, but alas I must send my regrets.” He looked away from her. A slight squinting came and went across his eyes, as if grit had blown into them.
    “At least you should come to the party in Mr. Reese’s room. Chocolate éclairs are promised.”
    “Absolutely not. I dislike patients intensely. Even more than children. Always dying, as I noted earlier. No matter what you do for them. Terribly ungrateful.”
    “You were in Mr. Reese’s room last night.”
    “An aberration. I had to attend the impromptu conference.” Again Claire saw the expressiveness around his mouth. She had an impression of him as an actor struggling to make the best of imperfect lines.
    “I do appreciate your asking, however. Very kind, indeed.”
    They said good-bye, and he continued his walk, heading south, a silhouette in the sunlight.
     
    Y uck!” Nine-year-old Ned Reese grimaced as he examined a milk bottle filled with fluffy green mold. Then he removed the cotton wool stopper and tried to maneuver his fingers inside.
    “Don’t touch!” Tia knew she spoke too angrily, but there was no taking it back and she didn’t regret it anyway. “The mold doesn’t like touching,” she added with what she hoped sounded like equanimity. Children in the lab: one of her brother’s worst ideas. She had to play along because Claire Shipley was photographing them. Patsy Reese had brought the kids down and simply left them here, presumably so she could enjoy the time alone with her husband. Tia didn’t appreciatebeing treated like a babysitter. David Hoskins had known better: he’d made himself scarce after Jamie arranged the visit.
    Ned’s brown eyes were large and wide, like his father’s. His nose was covered with freckles. In his school uniform of blazer, tie, and knee-length gray trousers, Ned looked very proper, at least from the front. From the rear, his shirttail was hanging out and not as clean as it might have been. Ned’s dark hair was cut short on the sides, but wayward locks fell across his forehead and into his eyes, a sophisticated haircut gone astray. In short, he was a mess.
    “It’s disgusting!” Ned said. Clearly this realization made him want to touch the mold more, not less.
    Tia took a deep breath and steeled herself to patience. “You’re right. There’s a very high ‘yuck’ level in my kind of work.” In theory Tia liked children. She wanted to have children of her own. At least she’d always thought she did. Faced now with two actual children, she wasn’t so sure. Before their arrival, she’d had a vision of herself presenting her scientific investigations to two receptive and respectful youngsters and thereby changing their lives forever. Instead she’d become a police officer standing guard so they didn’t destroy anything.
    Claire worked around them, staying out of their way. Tia tried to imagine what the lab must look like to an outsider like Claire: a high table in the middle of the room held a typical array of scientific equipment, including microscopes, beakers, and a Bunsen burner. Everything else was atypical. In the extreme. In racks from floor to ceiling, hundreds of milk bottles were stacked on their sides. Each bottle, stoppered with cotton wool, contained a thick layer of green mold growing on the bottom. Yellow droplets dotted the surface of the mold and pooled underneath. The droplets were the fluid that became the medicine called penicillin. Covered bedpans were piled upon the floor in stacks four feet high; Penicillium mold grew in these, too. The