An Intangible Pattern - Fate Bound.

Assembling the jigsaw

“I understand. I imagine Christmas dinner would be a bit strained.”

“Positively frosty, but he still goes every year.”

Alex looked pensive as she considered everything she had learned about C&S recently. Eventually she observed, “Do you ever think that Noah's a bit weird?”

Ben laughed, a little taken aback by her blunt outburst, “How so?

“I mean, if any other 13/14 year old was handed an endless pile of money they'd go crazy and buy everything they ever wanted. Noah gets handed a big pile of money and goes out and gets a job! What about that is normal?”

Ben laughed harder, “I've never heard it summed up that way, perhaps you're right.”

“It's just bizarre, I totaled up the number of hours he clocked in every year and he spent practically every waking minute working. Didn't he have friends? Hobbies? School? Girlfriends… or boyfriends? Surely someone would have pulled him aside and told him to go out and touch grass once in a while.”

“I think you'd need to ask him about it. If it helps, think of him as a bit like your sister, once he takes it into his head to do something, he won't stop.”

“Hmm.”

“We can go visit him if you like? His house is a few minutes walk down this path.”

Alex's chest fluttered with alarm. She knew he lived in the area, but it was frightening to think just how close he was.

“Err no, not just now. I'd like to finish off that box today.” she turned on her heel and began to retrace their steps.

Ben shrugged and said nothing.  They passed the remaining walk chatting about preparations for the holidays and what gifts they still need to buy. They were cold but reinvigorated by the time they reached Cat’s house again. 

Alex shuddered as she kicked off her boots and removed her coat in the foyer. 

“Brrrr, cold. What do you think? Shall we get a cup of tea before we crack on?”

“You read my mind.”

“Do you want tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, thanks.”

Alex busied herself in the kitchen while Ben cleaned Saoirse's muddy paws with a damp towel. 

“Here you go,” she said setting the coffee on the table beside him. 

He thanked her gratefully and followed her through to the office. Alex stood in the middle of the room and sighed as she surveyed the still substantial pile of boxes.

“Should we cover it with a blanket?” suggested Ben.

“I'd still know it was there.” 

She opened the nearest box out of curiosity. A blue A4 notebook caught her attention and she picked it up. On the first page was Noelle Courentin’s name in a neat script. Ben peered over her shoulder and smiled, “Even her handwriting looks like Noah's.” Alex flicked through the notebook and came to a gap where several pages had been torn out.

“Reference to formula 52?” She queried. 

“Probably,” Ben agreed.

She flicked to the last page that contained writing. There was silence as Ben and Alex read the paragraph. 

“Oh.” she said softly.

“That's really sad,” he concurred.

In a shaky hand Noelle had written:

It is the decision of myself and my colleagues that all reference to formula 52 and its production be removed from the record to prevent its use in future. I accept full responsibility for the lives lost among the staff and good friends under my care. The drug was never intended to be used on a frequent basis and it was not tested under the conditions it was used in our research. I alone, bear the blame for this, my colleagues followed my example and as a result I have harmed so many people whom I have loved. I can not even take comfort in the fact that I too will join them soon, for I have even deprived my own children of their mother, my husband of a mate and jeopardized the entire project. I do not expect forgiveness, but I hope there may still be understanding. Please understand that the loss of life was not caused by the omega hormone suppressant. The development of the treatment adhered, in entirety, with best practice and is the best hope to save omegas from continued suffering and trauma. I would hope that our sacrifice has not entirely been in vain and that some good can still be salvaged from my failure. I accept my immediate termination from the project, but it is my hope that the work will continue under the competent care of Graeme MacKenzie. 

With the deepest regret,

Noelle Courentin