Part One Hundred And Nine
Kay woke early on the Saturday morning, probably because she knew that today she would be going home, seeing Marino and possibly Lucy, and her beautiful house once again. As she had plenty of time before they needed to get ready to leave for the airport, Kay went downstairs and switched on George's computer. It didn't take her long to compile a brief letter to Ric Griffin, stating what she'd found during her examination of George the night before, and explaining that she definitely thought it required further investigation by a specialist in that field, namely him. Printing a copy, she signed it and left it on the blotter, where George couldn't possibly fail to find it. Making them both a cup of tea, she went upstairs and quietly tapped on George's door. At the muffled command to come in, she did so, switching the light onto its dimmest setting, and putting the mug of tea down on the bedside table.
"What time is it?" George asked groggily as she turned over. "Still quite early," Kay told her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "How're you feeling this morning?" "Erm, just tired," George replied, thinking that this was all she ever seemed to feel lately. "The only advice I can give you for the moment," Kay said gently but firmly. "And this is going by what happened last Saturday," She said, referring to George's dip in blood sugar. "Is for you to try to keep eating. Such a severe alteration in your usual hormonal activity can affect things like your blood sugar, so keep a watch on the anorexia at least until you've seen Ric Griffin." "You don't mince your words, do you," George said dryly, sitting up and reaching for her tea. "No, I don't," Kay said with a slight smile. "Because it wouldn't do you any good for me to go entirely soft on you. Now, I woke up earlier and couldn't get back to sleep, so I've written your referral letter for next Thursday. It's downstairs in your office." "Thank you," George said after taking a swig of the hot, sweet liquid.
Later that morning as they drove to the airport, George was quiet, somehow not wanting to relinquish the friendly support she'd had over the last two weeks. Seeming to sense her inner turmoil, Kay said, "I will keep in touch, I promise." Sparing her a glance in the driving mirror, George said, "I'd like that. I think the next few weeks if not months are going to be a little trying to say the least. I'd also like to know that you're still managing to stay out of the way of that killer." "Yes," Kay said with a world-weary tone to her voice. "He isn't something I'm looking forward to going back to." "Or she," George pointed out. "No," Kay said with absolute certainty. "This one's definitely a man. Either that or she's a particularly aggressive lesbian, but I doubt it." "Well, just be careful," George said with a slight shudder. "I always am," Kay said with a wry little smile. "Though it sometimes doesn't make any difference." "Is anyone meeting you off the plane when you get back?" "Marino's meeting me at DC airport like he often does when I've been away. I think it's his way of making sure I'm still in one piece." "He's very fond of you, isn't he?" "Marino's been in love with me for about the last twenty years," Kay replied almost sadly. "No matter how many other women he goes to bed with in the meantime, he can't quite get me out of his system, which makes him alternately protective and angry with me on a regular basis. But he wouldn't be quite the same Marino if he wasn't." "John was a little bit like that in all the years we weren't together," George told her as she pulled into the Heathrow car park. "It means that they always seem to pop up just when you need them, doesn't it." "Usually," Kay admitted with a smile. Then, turning serious, she said, "I think you ought to take advantage of how much John will want to be there for you." "Don't," George said a little tightly. "Because telling John, telling anyone isn't something I can even contemplate at the moment." "You told me," Kay pointed out quietly as George switched off the engine. "You were acting purely professional at the time," George informed her. "Which made it an awful lot easier." "Just don't leave it till the last minute," Kay tried to persuade her. "Because you're about to need as many people as possible to help you get through it."
When they'd gone through check in and they finally reached the barrier where George had to leave, she gave Kay a slightly rueful smile and said, "Don't forget to dismantle your gun, or I'll be trying to get you out of a cell on a charge of suspected terrorism." Kay laughed. "I almost did once, when I went to New York, where carrying guns also isn't permitted. I'll take it apart just before I go through customs and passport control. They can't quibble about it being in pieces in my briefcase, not with Frank's letter to back me up." They both knew that they were putting off the inevitable, but both women found that they didn't want to end the beginning of what may prove to be a very close friendship. As they stood facing each other, neither of them quite knowing what to say, George took the initiative. Putting her arms round Kay in an unexpected show of affection, she said, "Promise me to take care of yourself, because I don't ever want to read about your untimely death in the newspaper." "Only as long as you promise me to go to that appointment," Kay said with just as much feeling, her arms going round George of their own accord. "Because I don't ever want to have to see you on one of my slabs." Both sentiments were meant with the utmost seriousness, because they each had a threat of death hanging over them in one way or another, something that irrevocably seemed to bind their friendship into something long and lasting. When Kay eventually turned and walked away, George watched her, wondering just when she would see this incredibly talented and complicated woman again.