Chapter 1

Many people had heard of Toni Berwick. She was the new sensation of the Ballet, a young dancer in the classic mode who was thrilling the critics with her poise and skills. Even I had heard of her. I did lift my eyes from the laboratory bench from time to time; a break from the constant research that absorbed me. In those fleeting breaks I would catch up with the news and find time for friends. So yes, I had heard of this ballerina, but I had never seen her. I read the news pages only, skipping the Arts and Entertainment sections so my recognising her even if I saw her was unlikely. My world and her world were different planets and were very unlikely to collide. That would have remained the case had our Director and fundraiser, Sir Henry not insisted that I should attend a reception he had organised. Reluctantly I agreed, at the same time secretly planning a family emergency that would keep me away. I had little enthusiasm for being pleasant to the sort of people who would inevitably attend such functions. Politicians on the make, looking to get their faces on camera; minor celebrities seeking publicity and a sprinkling of Lords and Ladies taking advantage of a free meal. They clamoured to be there but none of them were overly keen to get their cheque books out. That was where Henry came in; he could coax donations out of the most unwilling of donors. We needed the publicity and funds for certain, but my contribution was in the laboratory, not in the glittering halls. I had qualified as a Doctor some ten years ago and opted to go into pharmacology research. The Leinster Foundation for which I worked was in essence seeking substances from the botanical world that would alleviate or cure the ailments from which human beings could suffer.

My plans were torpedoed the day of the reception when in mid-afternoon the Director's secretary came into my office holding a suit hanger. "Simon, you forgot to pick up your dinner jacket. Anyone would think that you didn't want to go to this bash." I groaned as Shelley smiled sweetly at me. My secret plans foundered with her next words. "You know that the television cameras will be there, and Sir Henry wants to introduce you as the man who is getting positive results. I took the liberty of phoning your parents to let them know so they will be watching you with great pride." Damn! The sudden family emergency was unusable. Shelley had probably suspected that I would desert.

"Bitch!" I muttered sotto voce.

Shelley had sharp hearing though. "Yes I know, Simon. But only to you. Anyway that ballerina will be there, Toni Berwick. She wants to meet you."

"Why?"

"Because you are important, that's why. Because without you our research will still be blundering around in the murk. So be a good boy and go home now. Shower, shave and put your monkey suit on. Oh!" She tossed me a small package. "Put some of that on and smell like a human being for once in a while. I'll pick you up at six-thirty." The package was gentleman's cologne. It was a standing joke around the research facility that whilst I did shower every day, after shave and cologne were foreign to me. I considered that their subtle fragrance could never compete with some of the noxious odours our chemicals exuded. Wearily I took the suit, the cologne and drove back to my flat. Shelley was as good as her word arriving at six-thirty on the dot in a black cab. Despite my grumpy mood the sight of Shelley cheered me up. Her dress almost fitted her, or perhaps it was designed to show off so much of her anatomy, and that which was revealed was very nice I thought. All the way to the Dorchester she gave me instructions.

"Now for God's sake smile at people, they are not the enemy. Be nice and talk to them in sentences of more than one word, and in English, not that medical gobble-de-gook. Don't drink too much."

"I don't drink."

"Don't you?" Shelley was surprised. "In that case I think you should have one drink, it may make you more human ... and stop leering at my tits. You know damn well why I am half dressed like this." I knew full well that she had designs on Sir Henry.

"If he doesn't react to those then he isn't human. Let me know if you ever give up the chase."

Shelley giggled. "That's better. That was almost like a red-blooded man talking. There's hope for you yet. Oh and Simon. I'm a girl with expensive tastes, so unless you have a few million in the bank I am not for you."

The reception was all that I had feared. Pedagogues from all the political parties, luminaries from the world of the Arts, Luvvies from the stage who wouldn't stoop so low as to accept a part in television drama yet courted the cameras with a passion; and the peripheral of hangers-on who somehow managed an invite to events like this; chasing celebrity for its own sake. I wandered around trying to remain invisible, yet Shelley seemed to have me on her radar, and would find me whenever Sir Henry wanted to parade me like some performing monkey. To keep me in order Shelley would cling to my arm ensuring that her breasts were in close contact. Who would try and get away with that wondrous experience to savour? Sir Henry talked, the celebrity listened and I would be invited to expound on our research. But as soon as my discourse started to get technical Sir Henry would guide the celebrity away and Shelley would disconnect abruptly and I would be left halfway through a sentence, with my mouth open like a prize idiot. Free meal or not I was getting myself ready for escape when Shelley found me again.

"Stop trying to hide, Simon. Now come along Miss Berwick wants to meet you." She dragged me through the crowd to where I could see Sir Henry talking to a woman. He is quite tall so his bulk hid the lady from me.

"Here he is Henry." Shelley called as we approached. He turned and for the first time I saw Toni Berwick who aimed a big, beaming smile at me.

"Hello Si."

"Antonia! Bloody Hell!"

"Nice to see you too." She laughed as for the first time that evening both Sir Henry and Shelley was struck dumb, something that ranks alongside of virgin birth in rarity.

Antonia had been a variable commodity in my life for years. She was a friend of my sister, Rebecca usually known as Becky. Becky was six years younger than me and I supposed that Antonia would be about the same age. I didn't enquire after all what teenage lad would want to know his sister's friends, particularly when that sister was an absolute pain most of the time. Becky was at that age when she was still viewed as a girl, yet her hormones were trying to tell her she was a young woman. Her attitude reflected that quandary, she would leave the room as a child and re-enter two minutes later as a woman. Antonia had the same disposition, girlish and Jezebel within the space of a heartbeat. However as much as Becky would chatter, Antonia would rarely say anything. Yet when they went up to Becky's room she would be as garrulous as my sister. They spoke in whispers using that girl's language that no one else could understand. As I passed the door I could hear them, although their sonar would react no matter how quiet I was and there would be a sudden silence.

I tried not to take notice of either of them, a difficult task as Becky for some reason or another always wanted to know what I was doing, where I was going and could she and Antonia come along with me. Of course when I said no, I became the unfair, unthinking, horrible big brother. That is until Becky appealed to the supreme authority, mum. There was no arguing with mum who was incapable of understanding that I didn't want my sister with me. It usually ended with the words. "Oh let them come with you Simon. Why are you so nasty to your sister?" I knew then that if I didn't allow the two pests to join me, sanctions would apply. So Becky and Antonia would tag along to watch me play Rugby in the winter, cricket and swimming in the summer. The two pests were always there. They would blight my activities which at that time were concerned with getting to know girls. Sitting outside the cricket pavilion waiting to go in to bat was an ideal time, the girls looked so pretty in their summer dresses. My attempts were often thwarted by the presence of Becky and Antonia, especially when Becky would arrive at my shoulder and enquire of me innocently.

"Are you chatting her up, Simon?" Then to the girl. "He fancies you." It made any love life very difficult.

I got some relief when I went off to University, studying medicine which meant that I would only have to put up with Becky and Antonia when I was between terms. I continued to play rugby and cricket even managing to get a 'blue' in rugby albeit in the second team. Becky changed as she grew up and I found that sometimes I actually liked chatting to her. Antonia remained a frequent visitor at our home so I saw her a lot, but we never passed anything more than a polite "hello" and "how are you?" Her resistance to speech persisted.

Mum and dad looked forward to calling me Doctor and I did eventually achieve the right to call myself that. They didn't understand my decision to go into research rather than practice medicine. To a certain extent my choice was influenced by my dealings in training with real patients and the twelve months obligatory service after graduation in the hospital. I took exception to patients whose lack of personal hygiene was abysmal and thought that the doctor could diagnose their condition without the patient describing the symptoms. By the umpteenth time I had gone through the twenty questions to discover the patient had loose bowels I had enough. So I chose a branch of medicine where they and I would not come into contact, although I have to say that research had always appealed to me. I was intrigued by the way that some substances would react upon human cell forms. So I was now employed at a charitable institute researching the potential of new drugs, in particular drugs derived from botanic sources. Someone would eventually make a lot of money out of a successful drug, but it wouldn't be the Foundation nor would it be me. Whatever Sir Henry had to say about my contribution it was a team effort and it embarrassed me being singled out for praise.

Although I had recognised her immediately I was astonished how Antonia had changed. Not just becoming Toni Berwick. She was always slim, and although she had filled out attractively in important areas was still lithe. Now however, she had about her a carriage and elegance that was never there before. Her elfin look had matured a little into the face of a woman who was confident in herself and also how she appeared to the world. She had grown a little taller. She had made that seismic shift from ingénue into a lovely woman. Think of Audrey Hepburn and Antonia was her look-alike. I offered my hand to shake, but she ignored that and moved gracefully towards me, hugged and kissed me on the cheek. A real kiss, not an air- kiss. Sir Henry and Shelley were still trying to understand what had happened here.