Something in the Water

SEVENTEEN

Ianto placed the coffee cup carefully next to the Rubik’s cube on Toshiko’s desk. She was slumped across the workstation, head buried in her folded arms. The various displays on her monitor screens were reflected as blue highlights in her glossy black hair. There were some grapes in a dish buried beneath piles of paperwork and notes, a half-eaten apple and a number of screwed up tissues.

‘Tosh?’

She stirred and then, realising that she had fallen asleep at her desk, jerked awake. ‘Ianto! Gosh, I must have dropped off …’

‘Fresh coffee,’ he said smoothly. ‘Thought you could do with it.’

She stretched, but not hugely, trying to contain her embarrassment. ‘I’m more tired than I thought.’

‘Good job Jack didn’t catch you sleeping on the job,’ Ianto said with a smile. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Rough.’ The word turned into a series of coughs and Toshiko reached for her tissues again. ‘Oh, I feel so awful. What a time to catch a cold …’ She coughed again, more forcefully this time, and tossed the tissue at the waste basket.

It missed and, when Ianto automatically bent down to retrieve the discarded tissue, he could not fail to notice that it contained a small number of red specks. He paused momentarily, wondering if Toshiko knew. She was already back at her keyboard, tapping hurriedly, looking up to see the screens flickering with data.

‘There’s still nothing here regarding Saskia Harden,’ she reported. ‘I’ve double-checked the police criminal records, the national DNA database, Revenue amp; Customs, Social Services, the lot. I’ve even tried MI5, Interpol and UNIT. But there’s nothing. She just doesn’t exist.’

‘I thought Owen went to see her GP?’

‘The address on their records is false.’

‘So who is she?’

Toshiko took off her glasses and chewed the arm thoughtfully. ‘Good question. A ghost. A phantom. Or just a figment of someone’s imagination?’

‘But one who needs a GP.’

‘Yes. I wonder why?’

‘It’s only a guess, but people usually go to the doctor when they’re ill.’

Toshiko pointed the arm of her glasses at him and smiled indulgently. ‘Hey, you’re right. You know, with a brain like that you’ll go far, Ianto.’

He smiled. ‘Oh, I’m really a genius in disguise. Haven’t you worked that out yet?’

‘Well, it’s a very good disguise.’

‘It takes a genius to make a disguise this effective.’

Toshiko laughed, and it turned into another cough. She grimaced as the fit passed, rubbing at her neck. ‘I’ve got a sore throat too. Is there anything in the medical stores I could take, Ianto?’

‘Basic analgesics is all you’re allowed, I’m afraid. There are some alien remedies in the safe, I believe, but they are all strictly out of bounds. Besides which, you are only human. Painkillers designed for Arcateenians, for instance, might not work on you — in fact, quite the reverse: they could be deadly.’

Toshiko shrugged and turned back to her work with a sniff. ‘Just my luck.’

‘I’ve checked the TV news,’ Ianto told her. ‘You may like to know that you’re not the only one feeling a bit poorly. There’s been a surge of respiratory problems right across South Wales and parts of South West England. They say it’s the start of a flu epidemic.’

‘It would explain why I feel so lousy.’

‘I shouldn’t worry too much about it. You’re probably just run down, and your experience at Greendown Moss won’t have helped.’

Toshiko coughed and groaned again. ‘Don’t remind me. I don’t think I’ll ever get the mud out of my hair. But you’re probably right. Thanks for the coffee, anyway.’

Ianto deftly removed the cup as soon as she put it down, being very careful not to touch the rim as he did so.