road, but the air felt good so he decided to walk and turned down a side street, making his way south. There was a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, but when he turned he just saw crowds of people walking in different directions. He continued down the alley. His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket. Had he accidentally called someone? It was his new company phone too: just what he needed after everything else – inadvertently dialling a colleague.
"Give me your wallet, your watch and your phone," a low voice growled from behind him.
Tom started to turn, but a solid grip fixed on his shoulder and a sharp point jabbed into his lower back.
"Don't be stupid. And don't even think about calling out."
Tom felt ice rush through him. He nodded. He didn't fancy his chances of a passing Londoner being ready to come to his aid. The man grunted and pushed him against a wall.
"OK, turn around. Hand over the stuff."
Tom reached for his wallet, then slid his phone from its belt case.
"The watch too."
Tom hesitated. The watch had been a present from his mother. "It's just cheap junk: you don't want it."
The man looked irritated. "Just give it--"
There was a sudden flurry of black and a foot struck the man's wrist with a crack. He gave a scream and staggered back. The newcomer struck Tom's assailant again, kicking him in the stomach. The man doubled over, vomiting.
Confused, Tom looked at his rescuer.
It was Kate.
She stood over the groaning figure, breathing hard. "You OK?"
Tom gulped. "What the hell was that?"
"I thought you could use a hand."
"He had a knife. Did he drop it?"
She peered around on the floor and tapped something with her foot. "It was just a fountain pen."
The man groaned and hauled himself to his feet. Kate tensed as if about to lunge at him. He ran off.
Tom stared at the pen. "It felt sharp."
Kate grabbed Tom's arm. "Let's get out of here."
"What about that man? Shouldn't we report this to the police?"
"Not unless you want to spend all night giving a statement." She kicked the pen away. "He was just some opportunistic drunk."
Tom shook his head and let himself be led away.
◇◇◇
They found a McDonald's and sat upstairs with burgers, fries and milkshakes. Tom was surprised to find he was intensely hungry.
"This wasn't quite what I had in mind when I invited you to dinner," Kate said, waving a French fry with a resigned expression.
"Getting mugged wasn't quite what I had in mind when I left," replied Tom.
"Are you OK? I mean, not just the mugging but... People don't normally walk out on me at dinner. At least not when I'm paying." She paused. "That was why I was following you: I'm not a stalker."
Tom shrugged. "It's been a tricky few days."
"With work?"
"Not exactly. Thank you for rescuing me, by the way. You certainly seem to know how to take care of yourself."
"I do a bit of Karate." She paused. "And when I say 'do', I mean 'teach'. But what do you mean 'tricky few days'?"
He sighed. "I was in hospital earlier this week after collapsing at the office. I think something happened to me at the party, but I can't remember. Nothing between Bern's speech on Friday night and Monday morning. I don't even remember how I got home."
Kate sat upright in her chair. "Are you serious?"
"I've had all sorts of tests. CERUS paid for me to go to some top private clinic. They've been amazing, given I've only just joined and hadn't technically even signed up to the health cover yet."
"Still, they made you go back to work already?"
"That was my decision. They didn't push me at all."
"And the doctors have no idea what happened to you?"
Tom hesitated. "They found traces of a toxin, said I might have taken meth."
"Oh," she said.
"I've never done drugs," Tom said angrily. "I've never wanted to. It makes no sense."
"But it could explain the memory loss. We ran a..." She paused. "I mean, I read a story about the side effects of legal narcotics: everyone reacts differently
"Give me your wallet, your watch and your phone," a low voice growled from behind him.
Tom started to turn, but a solid grip fixed on his shoulder and a sharp point jabbed into his lower back.
"Don't be stupid. And don't even think about calling out."
Tom felt ice rush through him. He nodded. He didn't fancy his chances of a passing Londoner being ready to come to his aid. The man grunted and pushed him against a wall.
"OK, turn around. Hand over the stuff."
Tom reached for his wallet, then slid his phone from its belt case.
"The watch too."
Tom hesitated. The watch had been a present from his mother. "It's just cheap junk: you don't want it."
The man looked irritated. "Just give it--"
There was a sudden flurry of black and a foot struck the man's wrist with a crack. He gave a scream and staggered back. The newcomer struck Tom's assailant again, kicking him in the stomach. The man doubled over, vomiting.
Confused, Tom looked at his rescuer.
It was Kate.
She stood over the groaning figure, breathing hard. "You OK?"
Tom gulped. "What the hell was that?"
"I thought you could use a hand."
"He had a knife. Did he drop it?"
She peered around on the floor and tapped something with her foot. "It was just a fountain pen."
The man groaned and hauled himself to his feet. Kate tensed as if about to lunge at him. He ran off.
Tom stared at the pen. "It felt sharp."
Kate grabbed Tom's arm. "Let's get out of here."
"What about that man? Shouldn't we report this to the police?"
"Not unless you want to spend all night giving a statement." She kicked the pen away. "He was just some opportunistic drunk."
Tom shook his head and let himself be led away.
◇◇◇
They found a McDonald's and sat upstairs with burgers, fries and milkshakes. Tom was surprised to find he was intensely hungry.
"This wasn't quite what I had in mind when I invited you to dinner," Kate said, waving a French fry with a resigned expression.
"Getting mugged wasn't quite what I had in mind when I left," replied Tom.
"Are you OK? I mean, not just the mugging but... People don't normally walk out on me at dinner. At least not when I'm paying." She paused. "That was why I was following you: I'm not a stalker."
Tom shrugged. "It's been a tricky few days."
"With work?"
"Not exactly. Thank you for rescuing me, by the way. You certainly seem to know how to take care of yourself."
"I do a bit of Karate." She paused. "And when I say 'do', I mean 'teach'. But what do you mean 'tricky few days'?"
He sighed. "I was in hospital earlier this week after collapsing at the office. I think something happened to me at the party, but I can't remember. Nothing between Bern's speech on Friday night and Monday morning. I don't even remember how I got home."
Kate sat upright in her chair. "Are you serious?"
"I've had all sorts of tests. CERUS paid for me to go to some top private clinic. They've been amazing, given I've only just joined and hadn't technically even signed up to the health cover yet."
"Still, they made you go back to work already?"
"That was my decision. They didn't push me at all."
"And the doctors have no idea what happened to you?"
Tom hesitated. "They found traces of a toxin, said I might have taken meth."
"Oh," she said.
"I've never done drugs," Tom said angrily. "I've never wanted to. It makes no sense."
"But it could explain the memory loss. We ran a..." She paused. "I mean, I read a story about the side effects of legal narcotics: everyone reacts differently
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