The Descartes Evolution Read online

  “You sure you don’t want me to see you home?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  The night was clear. Jenna breathed in the cool air, heavy with the scent of fumes and too many people living too close together. Maybe she should move out of the city, but she couldn’t bear the idea of crowded commuter trains every morning. Living next to Hampstead Heath was a compromise. She could almost pretend that she was out in the open country, and the Museum of Anthropology where she worked as a curator was only a couple of miles away.

  The gym backed onto the Heath, and she headed out to the open grass, feeling better once she left the orange glow of the streetlights behind.

  She ran until her legs ached and her breath came hard and fast. Twice her cell phone rang, but she ignored it, her pace never faltering. She saw no one else and acknowledged the pang of disappointment that fluttered deep inside her. Some part of her craved confrontation, as though by proving she was stronger, she could deny the knowledge of her own frailness.

  Her apartment was on the first floor of a converted Victorian town house that stood on the edge of the Heath. Jenna let herself in through the front door as her phone rang again.

  She gritted her teeth but pulled out the phone and stared at the screen. She frowned. The number wasn’t her father’s after all. She didn’t recognize it, and unease stirred inside her. She checked the log; it was the same caller all evening. Not her father for any of them. Which was odd.

  She raised the phone and punched in the number.

  Chapter Three

  Jenna lingered at the edge of the grave as the handful of mourners wandered away. She listened to the thud of the damp soil as it landed on the wooden casket. Her father had been dead for one week now, and it still seemed unreal. She’d moved through a haze of shock and anguish.

  He was the only family she had. Or at least the only family she had ever known. It occurred to her that now he was gone, she was free to look up her mother. She could almost hear her father rolling in his grave at the idea. He’d told her that her mother had abandoned them both when they had found out about Jenna’s illness. He’d remained bitter about it right up to the end, refusing to talk about his ex-wife. But he’d stuck by his daughter, never considered having her put into care. She knew he had spent long years researching her disease, coming up with the best treatment, given up his life for her, returning only recently to work in his own medical practice.

  Which was why Jenna had always abided by his wishes.

  She owed him her life. Without him she would have ended up institutionalized and probably dead or wishing she were dead by now.

  Dead like her father. Her nostrils filled with the heavy scent of lilies, and nausea roiled in her stomach. She swayed, reaching out a hand for balance, almost jumping when someone caught hold of her arm and steadied her.

  She glanced up to see David beside her. He’d been her father’s business partner and had hardly left her side over the past week, helping her organize everything.

  “Are you okay?”

  Jenna thought about the question then forced her lips into a smile. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, that’s honest.” He studied her, his head tilted to one side. “You look pale. At a guess you haven’t eaten today, and you look like you haven’t slept since…” He broke off.

  “Since my father died,” Jenna finished for him. “You know I still can’t believe it.”

  There had been a head-on collision. Her father’s Porsche had slammed into a foreign lorry driving on the wrong side of the road, and he’d died instantly. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye.

  She’d insisted on seeing his body in the morgue, but he had been unrecognizable, and she’d wished she had heeded the doctor’s advice. That piece of bloodied meat hadn’t been her father. A wave of blackness washed over her at the memory. She stumbled, and the hand on her arm tightened.

  “Jenna?” David’s voice came from a distance. She tried to focus, but the blackness rose up and engulfed her.

  When she came to, she was half sitting, half lying on one of the pews in the small chapel. David sat beside her, a look of concern on his face.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “You were right about the lack of food. I think breakfast yesterday was the last thing I ate.”

  David pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket. “Emergency rations.”

  She took the chocolate and nibbled at a corner as she studied him. She needed help and advice, and David was the obvious man to ask. But she also knew he cared for her, and that complicated matters. He had tried to become more than a friend at one time, but she had put him off as she always did when anyone showed an interest. He was a nice man, way too nice and normal for her, even without the time bomb ticking away inside her.

  Sometimes she would go out, pick up some man in a bar or club, go back to his place and spend a night. Always sex. Never making love, and always with a certain kind of man. One who hinted at danger. It filled some need inside her but left her lonely, and she never saw the same man twice. Something else she had never shared with her father; he wouldn’t have understood.

  Now she was going to have to talk to David. She’d taken her medication that morning, but it had been almost the last. Her father always gave her more after the monthly checkups, varying the dose depending on the results. And she’d been due a checkup the morning after he died. David didn’t know about her illness; it wasn’t something she talked about except with her father, but she was going to have to now.

  “Can I come to see you, David? At the surgery, I mean?”

  He frowned but nodded. “Do you need something? Sleeping pills? I can write you a prescription now.”

  “No, it’s something else. I’d rather not talk about it here, but it is quite urgent.”

  “I have an evening surgery tonight. You could drop by after that.”

  Relief washed through her, and she realized how worried she had been. She could relax once she had this sorted out. “That would be perfect.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go make sure everyone has gone, but I’ll be back.”

  She nodded. “Thank you. You’ve been a great help. I wouldn’t have coped without you.”

  “Yes you would. You’re amazingly resilient. Now, sit for a while longer, and then I’ll drive you home.”

  She finished the chocolate, screwed up the wrapper, and looked around for a bin. When she didn’t find one she reached for her bag. Opening it, she caught sight of the letter that had arrived in the post that morning. From the envelope, she knew it was from her father’s lawyers, but she hadn’t had the time or the inclination to open it before the funeral.

  Now she pulled it out and tore open the seal. She scanned the letter quickly,

  Dear Ms. Young,

  Please accept our condolences on the death of your father.

  We are enclosing an envelope entrusted to us by him and to be forwarded to you in the event of his death.

  She emptied out the envelope, and a smaller one fell onto her knee. She stared at it for long moments, heart pounding. Her hand trembled as she picked it up and turned it over. Her name was scrawled across the front in her father’s handwriting.

  Jenna,

  If you are reading this, then I am dead. I’m sorry for leaving you. I would never voluntarily, but we are not always in command of our own destinies.

  It is vitally important that you seek help for your illness. I cannot stress strongly enough—you must not stop taking the medicine.

  I’m giving you the name of an old colleague of mine who will assist you. Professor Merrick is head of Biochemistry at Cambridge University, and you can find him through the faculty. Do not speak to anyone else regarding this.

  Go and see him without delay.

  Your loving father

 
P.S. In the event he will not see you, tell him “Descartes.”

  Chapter Four

  Jenna sat in her car until the last patient had left the surgery.

  She needed to think this through. She had found a number for Professor Merrick with ease. All afternoon she had sat with her phone on her lap, not quite able to make herself punch in the number.

  Finally, she’d made the call, only to be told the professor was away at a conference and wouldn’t be back for another two days. She’d been relieved; she didn’t want to go to some stranger.

  In the end, she had decided to talk it over with David first. He was a doctor, and even if her medication was still in the experimental stage, surely he would be able to help her. Or get her on some sort of program—there must be other people like her.

  She got out and locked the car. The surgery was in an old converted house on the edge of the village. It was the last sort of practice she would have expected her father to work for, but he had seemed happy here.

  The receptionist, Susan, looked up as Jenna walked through the door, recognition flickering in her eyes. “Jenna, I’m sorry about your father. He was a good man.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “Is Dr. Griffith in?”

  “Yes, he’s expecting you. Go right through.”

  David stood up as she entered and gestured to the chair opposite him. Jenna sank into it and fiddled with the strap of her bag. She didn’t know how to begin, and at the last moment, she wasn’t even sure she should be here. Her father’s warning echoed in her mind. Don’t speak to anyone else.

  But why?

  What possible harm could it do to get a second opinion?

  “Jenna, what is it?”

  She glanced up at the softly spoken question. From his seat across the desk, David watched her, concern clear in his face.

  She lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know how to begin, or even whether I should begin at all.”

  His brows drew together. “Perhaps just tell me what this is about.”

  Jenna took a deep breath. “I have an illness. It’s genetic—I’ve had it all my life.”

  “You’ve never spoken of this. Neither did your father.”

  “I know. I didn’t like to, and my father…” She paused then forced herself to go on. “I think it was all tied in with my mother leaving. He didn’t like to talk about it. But he was treating me, and now I need to sort something out.”

  “So what is this disease?”

  “Some sort of mutation of Huntington’s. I was hoping my records were here at the surgery. I haven’t been able to find anything at Dad’s house.”

  David leaned across and switched on the monitor. He typed in her name and stared at the screen, his frown deepening. “You’re not listed as a patient.”

  Her heart sank. It looked like this was not going to be easy.

  “Are you on any sort of medication?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I had a checkup each month, and Dad adjusted my pills based on the results. He did tell me that the drug was experimental, though, and I’ve nearly run out.”

  Opening her bag, she pulled out the pill bottle and handed it across the desk. David read the label and his frown deepened. “I don’t recognize the drug.” He typed it into the computer and shook his head. “Nothing.”

  He unscrewed the lid and shook one of the small white pills onto his hand. “There are no markings. I have no clue what this is.” He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes narrowed in thought. Finally, he looked back at Jenna and smiled, even if the smile did look a little forced. “How about I send this out to the lab? I can label it as priority, and we should get the results back quickly. In the meantime, I’m going to give a friend of mine a call. He specializes in genetic neurological diseases; he can get you tested, find out exactly what this thing is that you have. And we need to keep looking for your records. There must be some.” He shook his head again. “I can’t believe your father was so secretive about it.”

  “I was worried that maybe he was doing something illegal. He never talked about the past, but I know he used to work in research, and I wondered whether he was giving me medication that wasn’t approved.” She rubbed her finger across her forehead, trying to ease the ache.

  David got to his feet and came around to crouch in front of her. “I’m not going to give you any platitudes here. If you have Huntington’s, then it’s a serious disease, but you obviously know that.” He straightened, running a hand through his short, light brown hair. “I wish you’d told me.”

  “I didn’t want people to treat me differently.”

  “And you think I would have?” He paced the room for a minute before coming to stand in front of her, hands jammed in his pants’ pockets. “Is that why you wouldn’t go out with me?”

  Jenna bit her lip. She so did not want to have this conversation right now. But she didn’t want to hurt David, either, and she chose her words carefully. “You’re a serious sort of guy, and in the circumstances, I’m not looking for commitment.”

  He released his breath on a sigh. “No, I can see why, but I still wish you’d confided in me.”

  “Well, now you know.” She tried to keep the irritation form her voice but knew she’d failed when he moved away and went back to sit behind the desk.

  “I need some time to take all this in. In the meantime, I’ll get onto the lab and get you an appointment with the specialist as soon as possible.”

  “There’s something else. I don’t know if it’s any help, but perhaps you’d better see it.” Taking her father’s letter from her bag, she handed it to David. “This arrived today from my dad’s solicitors. To be forwarded on the event of his death.”

  David took out the single sheet of paper and scanned it quickly. “So have you contacted this Professor Merrick?”

  Jenna shook her head. “I looked him up on the internet this afternoon and found a telephone number. But apparently, he’s away at the moment, at a conference. I’ll try again in a few days.”

  “I can track him down if you want me to.” David raised an eyebrow in query, and Jenna struggled to make sense of her thoughts.

  “I sat there by the phone today,” she said, “and I realized I just want everything out in the open. So I’m ill—I’ve lived with that knowledge all my life, but I don’t want it to be some dirty little secret anymore.” Her speech picked up speed as her thoughts became clearer. “And who is this Professor Merrick guy? How did he know my father, and why have I never heard of him? Why should I go to a biochemist and not a doctor? Why shouldn’t I tell anyone? And what the hell is Descartes?”

  Her voice had risen as she spoke, and David now regarded her with a dazed expression on his face. “Wow,” he said. “Well, I can answer the last one.”

  Shock ran through her. And hope. “You can?”

  “Descartes is a place.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Well, it’s not likely to be one you’ve ever visited—it’s on the moon. It was actually the site of the Apollo 16 landing. The Descartes Highlands.” At her blank look, he smiled. “I’m a bit of a space enthusiast.”

  Thoughts whirled in her head. “I just don’t understand. What could a site on the moon possibly have to do with me or my father?”

  “It’s probably something else entirely, a name perhaps. Why don’t I have a look for you, see if I can get some connection. Maybe this Merrick guy has done research on Huntington’s. Perhaps he worked with your father. It’s possible.”

  He moved back around the desk and sank into his chair, scribbling some notes on a yellow pad. “There. I’m sure there’s a sensible explanation for all this.” He sat back in the huge leather seat and regarded her. “You know, your father was a brilliant man. I always felt honored to have the chance to work with him. But…”

  “But?”

  “I nev
er understood why he was working here. He never talked about the past, but it was obvious that he was meant for something other than small-town surgery.”

  “I was surprised, as well. But he was a secretive man, even with me, and I was his only family. I always presumed my mother had broken his heart.”

  “You’re a romantic.”

  She looked at him sharply. “No, I’m not. But he would never talk about her. You know, maybe this is my chance to look up my mother’s family. Even if she didn’t want me, it might be an interesting exercise.”

  “It might at that. Perhaps I could help you.”

  “Perhaps.” She rose to her feet and picked up her bag. “Thank you for listening.”

  “You know I’m always here for you.”

  She nodded and turned to go.

  David followed her out of his office and into the reception area. The receptionist had left for the night and the room was in darkness except for a small lamp on the counter that cast a pool of light.

  “You know, all this wouldn’t have stopped me wanting to see you.”

  Jenna reached up and stroked the palm of her hand down over his cheek. “That’s the main reason I didn’t tell you.”

  Chapter Five

  Outside, the sun was rising, coloring the sky crimson and tangerine. Lauren stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up two entire walls of her corner office and gazed down at the city of London spread out below her.

  What would the view be like one week from now?

  Not for the first time, the enormity of what they were about to set in motion struck her. Perhaps she was getting old or developing a conscience—God forbid—but there was no point in getting squeamish at this point; she couldn’t stop this even if she wanted to.

  Which she didn’t. Not really.

  In many ways, she believed in what they were doing, that this was their only way forward in a society determined to self-implode. She wondered if people would understand that this was actually for their own good. The ones left alive, at least.