Free An Affair of the Heart by David George Richards

People seem to get shot every five minutes. Look, Phil,
I’ve had to borrow this phone off a reporter, and I’ll have to give
it him back soon, so you’d better tell me what all the fuss is
about.”
    Dr Jones was
desperate. He didn’t know what to say first. “Do you remember that
heart you found for me?”
    “Yes. Was it
okay?”
    “Did you get
authorisation to take the heart from the donor?”
    “Of course I
did! What do you think I am? A body snatcher?”
    “How? How did
you get it?”
    “She had a
donor card.”
    “No, David!
That was the other woman! Sorenson! It was Williams the heart came
from! Sarah Williams! Not Sorenson! Do you remember?”
    “Yes, I told
you! She had a donor card! Phil, this reporter wants his phone
back, so we’ll have to be quick. I still don’t see what all the
fuss is about.”
    “Only Sorenson
had a donor card!” Dr Jones almost yelled. “It was in her handbag!
Williams didn’t have a handbag! She didn’t have anything!”
    “No, that’s
right, it was in her back pocket. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call
you again when I’m out of here. Bye!”
    “Dr Askwith!
David!” Dr Jones shouted down the phone, but the line had already
gone dead.
     
     

Chapter
Twenty-Two
Cracks
     
    “But is it a
set back?” Alex demanded. He was pacing back and forth in Helen
Worthington’s office.
    “Not really,”
Helen replied, watching him walking up and down. He was beginning
to irritate her. “It just means that we won’t be in the driving
seat, that’s all.” She was sitting in her big leather chair as
usual.
    “You’re a fool
if you believe that!” Alex snapped. He wasn’t in a very good mood
at the best of times, but today his mood seemed to be worse than
ever. “McCord doesn’t want to win his case against the MRI! He
wants to lose! We needed to be first! How did you let this happen,
Hargreaves?”
    Sir Richard
looked up. He was a rather over weight man in his late fifties,
with grey hair and a beard. He was sitting back and relaxing in one
of the comfy chairs in Helen’s office.
    “I didn’t let
this happen,” he said slowly in a very upper class accent. “Both
Helen and I advised you that it was more than likely that the judge
would find in their favour. The life of the Carter girl could be at
risk if the MRI is truly at fault, so the judge was bound to–”
    “Of course
they’re at fault!” Alex interrupted, impatiently. “But now that
McCord’s in charge, he’s going to give them every opportunity to
wriggle out of it!”
    “He can’t avoid
the truth,” Helen said quickly. “Sooner, or later, the question of
authorisation to remove the heart has to come up. They either had
permission, or they didn’t, it’s as simple as that.”
    “But what if he
does avoid it? What if he strings the case out for as long as
possible? What then?”
    “Then we play
our trump card, and get rid of him,” Helen replied sternly. Alex
stopped pacing up and down and turned to glare at Helen. She
already knew his feelings on that matter, but if they needed to get
rid of McCord, then regardless of the fact that Alex might want to
hide his wife’s affair, she would use it. She stared back at Alex,
unmoved.
    “If you want to
talk about being foolish,” Sir Richard said to Alex in the strained
silence. “Maybe we should discuss the impending arrival of your
daughter.”
    “Hah!” Alex
scoffed and resumed pacing about the office. “Not that again!”
    “Yes! That
again!” Helen said with some venom. This was the real reason for
his more than usual bad temper today. Not the result of yesterday’s
hearing, but their questioning his decision to ask his daughter to
return from her home in Italy. And why could the man never sit
still? Why did he have to pace about all the time? It was driving
her crazy. “Sir Richard is quite right,” Helen continued. “I don’t
think asking her back here was a good idea at all, Alex. Diana
would have been far safer out of the way