He was right. She was having difficulty in believing that Josh could be so stupid as to take something and Marcie would be even more dismissive of the idea. ‘Okay. Do you know what I’m looking for?’
‘Anything, but the kind of medication that might do this is digitalis or something similar. Check that this other boy couldn’t have got hold of anything. It could be pills, or it could be plant matter—foxgloves are the usual culprit but that’s unlikely at this time of the year.’ He paused and looked back at Nicki, who was still tending Josh, and she nodded up at him. No change.
‘I may be wrong and I hope that I am, but start now. Don’t wait until we get to the hospital and get a confirmed diagnosis. Get everyone here to help, but make sure you check this room yourself. Tear it apart if you have to.’
Cool determination suddenly settled on Beth. She wasn’t used to the pressures of emergency medicine, but she knew as well as any of the hospital staff how to cope with a crisis. Keep calm and do your job. ‘Okay. Leave it with me.’
Matt nodded briefly, and looked round to find Kat at his elbow with his jacket. ‘Great, thanks, Kat. Can you stay here? Beth will tell you what needs to be done.’
‘No problem.’ Kat waved him away, and Matt returned to Josh’s bedside. ‘What do you need, Beth?’
Right now she could have done with just one more moment with Matt, enough time for a quick exchanged smile of encouragement. But that wasn’t going to happen now. ‘Can you co-ordinate? We need to get in touch with Simon Tanner’s parents and make sure that someone’s looking after Anna. Also someone to check on the other children, to make sure they’re okay and see whether they know anything.’
‘Okay, I’ll sort it. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.’ Kat disappeared and when Beth looked back at Matt he was already lifting Josh carefully up in his arms, motioning to Nicki to follow him out into the hallway.
Marcie called to her from the doorway, her coat wrapped around her shoulders. ‘Look after Anna.’ Her face was anguished and streaked with tears.
‘Of course. She’ll be fine. Go.’ Beth’s encouraging smile dropped from her face as soon as Marcie was gone. Josh had looked in a bad way, half-delirious and retching, and Matt’s reaction had told her that this was no run-of-the-mill stomach upset. Now it was up to her to find out what had made him so ill.
CHAPTER TEN
BETH hurried through to the kitchen, her eye lighting on one of the dispensary staff on the way. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him with her to where Kat was rummaging through the dresser by the phone.
‘I’ve got Natalie organising a general look around in the main rooms of the house. Marcie’s sister is seeing to the kids.’ Kat had swung into action like a pro. ‘I can’t find Marcie’s phone book, though.’
‘In here.’ Beth pulled the fat volume, held together with a rubber band, from one of the drawers. ‘Simon’s parents left about half an hour ago and they probably won’t be home yet, but I expect there’s a mobile number in there for his mother. Their name’s Tanner.’
‘Thanks. I’ll be here if you need me. Good luck.’
‘Think I’ll need it.’ Beth gestured towards the medicine cabinet over the sink. ‘The number for the combin
ation lock is 7836—can you tell Brian what we’re looking for? I’ll be in Josh’s room.’
‘No probs. Go do your magic.’ Kat winked at her, and Beth hurried back out of the kitchen.
Josh’s bedroom smelled of vomit and fear. Beth flipped on the overhead lights and started with the bed, pulling off sheets and blankets, tipping the pillows out of their cases and turning the mattress to see if there was anything hidden beneath it. Turning her attention to the dresser and the wardrobe, she shook the piles of neatly ironed clothes out onto the floor, to make sure that nothing had been slipped in between them.
Think, Beth. The signs steadied her, old friends in a way that mere words never were, helping her to think clearly. He knows he’ll get into trouble playing with medicines. He’s not going to hide anything where Marcie or James could find it. That ruled out most of the house. Every child has a hidey-hole somewhere.
She picked up Josh’s puzzle box, twisting it carefully until it sprang open. There was a ten-pound note, a stone with a hole through the centre, an assortment of what looked like broken pottery and some feathers.
Beth laid the box down on the small desk in the corner of the room and flipped through the contents of the drawers. The usual boy’s mess of modelling clay, pens of every description and a hand-held games console, together with a few pages printed out from the internet that looked as if they were to do with Josh’s schoolwork.
She ran her hands down the back of every piece of furniture in the room and dropped to her hands and knees to look under the bed. Nothing apart from a banana skin, a dusty harmonica and a toy train.
Beth puffed out an exasperated breath. There was nothing here. Josh usually took any mischief he was up to out of the house. Coat pockets!
She ran into the hallway, and elbowed her way through the coats in the cloakroom, finding Josh’s parka and turning the pockets inside out. Nothing. A few sweet wrappers and some loose coins. She found herself wondering briefly how Josh had managed to make a hole in his pocket after only a few weeks of having the coat, and then an idea struck her.
Carefully, she pushed the pocket back into the coat, and slid her finger through the hole. It touched something inside the lining, and Beth wiggled it through the hole and pulled whatever it was out of the pocket. A penknife. It certainly wasn’t Josh’s. Beth knew that Marcie had been putting off buying him one until he was a bit older.
Beth inspected the lining of the coat thoroughly, to see if anything else was hidden in there. Then she stared at the knife in her hand. He’s up to something. And if this is hidden in his coat it must be outside the house. Prising the knife open, she inspected the blade. It was dirty, discoloured, but there was nothing on it.
She picked up an old duffel coat of James’s and Marcie’s Wellington boots and walked through to the kitchen, where Kat was frowning into the phone. ‘Anything?’
‘Nope. Not home yet. I’ve tried the mother’s mobile but it’s going straight to voicemail.’
‘What about the other children?’