3rd February 2015
“Ali, come on!”
Ali snatched his keys off the side table and patted down his pockets hastily. Phone, check. Wallet, check. f**k, the samples for Harry. He snatched the bag off the end of the bed and took the stairs two at a time—just in time for the phone to ring.
“s**t!” he said. “I’ll get it!”
Yazid was already outside, his legs visible as he leaned over the fence, presumably talking to Mrs Pemberton next door.
“Barraclough Al-Batari residence,” Ali blurted out as he picked up the phone, jamming it between ear and shoulder as he struggled to shove his feet into his trainers.
“Is that Alasdair Barraclough? It’s Dr. Monroe from Leeds General Infirmary.”
Ali paused. His heart paused. Everything just—paused. Outside, he heard the squeak of the gate and a little girl
