White Death
“‘Can you talk?’‘One moment.’ Steven left the small hotel breakfast room via French doors leading out into the back garden and followed the winding path down through an arch of forsythia to the fake wishing well at the end, where a garden gnome fished off its edge. Steven sat down beside it. ‘Go ahead.’‘I’m now told there was a last-minute change of plan and the Mubarak boy was not admitted to the children’s hospital in Leicester after all. My contact at DOH apologises for the confusion. They to...ok the view that that might be too public and arranged for the boy to be treated at a private clinic instead.’ Steven took out the notebook he always carried in his pocket and pulled the pen from its spine with his teeth. ‘Do you have the address?’‘Actually … it’s in Sweden.’‘Sweden,’ repeated Steven as if challenging what he’d just heard.‘I’m just as perplexed as you,’ said Macmillan.‘They took a kid with TB to Sweden just to avoid publicity?’ exclaimed Steven.‘A bizarre decision, I agree,’ said Macmillan.‘Do we have the address of this Swedish clinic?’‘They said they’d get back to me today with the details.MoreLess
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