Free Deathwatch by Nicola Morgan Page A

was chloroform. It put you to sleep, everyone said. It was dangerous. The rumours said it was banned by the government and they might all get cancer. The school should be evacuated.
    Isabel even said she felt sick. Mind you, Isabel often felt sick. It got her out of all sorts of things. She was weedy. Fragile. Needed, frankly, to get a life. But then Bethan said she’d felt sick too. When she thought about it, so had Cat, but she didn’t think it was the chemical.
    Cat couldn’t shake the incident from her mind. Her skin crawled when she thought of it.
    At the end of school, instead of going home with the others as usual, she made some excuse, something about going back to fetch a book. Instead, she went to the biology lab. Knocked on the door.
    “Come in.” Miss Bleakney was there, packing her books into a bag. She looked up when Cat came in.
    “What can I do for you, Catriona?” Her voice had a touch of frost. She looked tired, too, her make-up almost all dissolved into the sweat of the day.
    “I came to say I’m sorry about what happened,” said Cat. “I couldn’t help it. I really hate insects and I thought it was going to land on me when…”
    Infuriatingly, Cat felt tears pricking behind her eyes. How stupid! But it had been a hard day. Everything going wrong. And the weekend too. Phiz and the athletics stuff. Life running away from her. Suddenly, she felt weighed down, emotional. With a deep breath, she forced it away.
    Miss Bleakney smiled at her, though somewhat weakly. “It wasn’t your fault, Catriona. I take responsibility. Professor Bryden is not used to talking in schools. He should not have had … well, I should have stepped in earlier. I’m just relieved no one… Anyway, no harm done, eh? Now don’t be upset, and don’t think any more of it. Off you go.”
    And Cat did, at least partly relieved.
    She would put it from her mind.
    It was only an insect. Really no big deal. No harm could come from its death.

CHAPTER 13
HUMILIATION
    BACK in his home, he fumes and shakes, unable to keep still. He had almost been knocked down while riding home on his bicycle, so preoccupied had he been. So angry, so ashamed.
    It is all that girl’s fault. Stupid little fool. With her pretty eyes and big hair and make-up. What was she doing in a biology lesson with her hair all dangerously loose round her face like that? Didn’t schools have rules any more?
    Pathetic, she was, with her fear of his insects. A huge human with clodhopping feet, who could kill an insect with one swat – and actually had, come to think of it, or more or less. Injured it anyway. He’d only asked her to hold it, for goodness’ sake. In fact, he’d only been trying to help her. He’d seen the fear on her face. He’d thought how good it would be if he could cure her fear. And when he’d tried to, it had all gone wrong.
    And the ethyl acetate. How could they criticize him for using it? They didn’t know anything about it. It wasn’t even particularly dangerous to humans or not in those small quantities. He is one of the most experienced scientists ever likely to set foot in that school, accustomed to working with such a chemical; has used it all his working life; has a licence for it, for crying out loud!
    Well, had a licence. Yes, it was technically out of date, but does that really matter? He is an eminent scientist. Yes, retired, but once a scientist always a scientist. You don’t lose all your knowledge just because you retire through ill health.
    He paces up and down the room. Panic is beginning to rise in his chest. Breathe, breathe, breathe. That’s what his doctor said all those years ago. Breathe slowly and the feelings of panic will go away.
    But he is so angry. Justifiably. He’d had to sit in that head teacher’s office and watch her as she told him that the incident was unfortunate and that her first concern was her pupils’ safety. She appreciated, she’d said, that he was not acquainted with the modern rules