her off sharply. ‘There are no press allowed in the hospital tent, full stop, you see? I will not allow it.’
Megan stared at her in shock. ‘Why on earth not?’
‘Because all you’re here for is your stories, and most of them are damned lies. You’re not interested in helping the suffering, you’re interested in helping yourselves and getting whatever silly little award it is that you’re after. Get out.’
Megan was almost speechless for the first time in years. Sophie Vernoux looked at her as though she were retarded.
‘What’s the matter? Did I go too fast? No–press–in–here–get–out–now!’
Sohpie’s green eyes blazed their challenge into Megan’s, and for a moment Megan was about to turn around and leave. Instead, she gathered herself together and reached into her jacket. Sophie winced pitifully.
‘I don’t want your card because I’m not going to change my mind,’ she snapped.
The anger finally hit Megan’s nervous system, scalding through her synapses. She pulled out several copies of the photograph of Amy O’Hara and slapped them down on the table beside her. Her voice when she spoke sounded like a cobra’s hiss.
‘Missing, presumed dead, last seen in Thessalia around two weeks ago. Her name’s Amy O’Hara. I’d like to find her if I can because she’s important to me. Put these up where they can be seen. Sorry to have been such an irritation to your day. Have a nice life.’
Megan whirled, only just catching the look of surprise on the girl’s face as she forged past Callum, who had watched the entire exchange in silence. Sophie Vernoux looked down at the photographs, and then at Callum.
‘We’ve had a long day,’ the Scotsman said, by way of an explanation.
‘Haven’t we all,’ Sophie replied, rediscovering some of her haughtiness, but it was half–hearted and without passion. She called out. ‘Wait!’
Megan halted near the hospital exit and turned, glowering at Sophie.
The nurse picked up one of the pictures. ‘We will put them up.’
Megan took a few paces back toward her.
‘We need to get access into the interior of the country.’
‘Why?’
‘We’re journalists, but we are mainly here to find this girl and get her home. We believe that she may have been abducted by rebel forces or factions, perhaps as a bargaining tool or as a human shield. We have some leads but we can’t follow them whilst we’re stuck here in Thessalia. Let us help you, and in return we’ll get the chance to find her.’
Sophie gripped the picture tighter, appalled by Megan’s request.
‘You’re just chasing stories, not people.’
‘No,’ Megan snapped back. ‘We’re chasing the truth. If the truth leads us to this girl, then all the better. One way or another, we’re going in–country, with or without your help. Medicines Sans Frontiers – that means doctors without borders , doesn’t it? So do you have borders between nurses helping people and journalists doing the same? Do you want to help her, or hinder us?’
A thin, bleak smile cracked across Sophie’s features.
‘That is appalling emotional blackmail, even for a journalist.’
‘That’s all we’ve got, I’m afraid, and right now I don’t care how we get her back.’
Megan watched as Sophie eyed her testily.
‘What would you know of reporting the truth? The world doesn’t want to know what happens in places like Mordania, or Bosnia, or Sierra Leone or Sudan. You’ll not get close to the truth, because none of the reporters here have managed it.’
Megan stared into her clear green eyes.
‘I will, whatever it takes.’
Sophie Vernoux snorted dismissively before looking one more time at the photograph. Then she spun away from Megan and Callum, snapping over her shoulder.
‘The next aid column leaves at eight tomorrow morning.’
***
12
The first heavy snow fell during the night, spiralling down silently through the lights of the city as though a galaxy of stars were falling from
Megan stared at her in shock. ‘Why on earth not?’
‘Because all you’re here for is your stories, and most of them are damned lies. You’re not interested in helping the suffering, you’re interested in helping yourselves and getting whatever silly little award it is that you’re after. Get out.’
Megan was almost speechless for the first time in years. Sophie Vernoux looked at her as though she were retarded.
‘What’s the matter? Did I go too fast? No–press–in–here–get–out–now!’
Sohpie’s green eyes blazed their challenge into Megan’s, and for a moment Megan was about to turn around and leave. Instead, she gathered herself together and reached into her jacket. Sophie winced pitifully.
‘I don’t want your card because I’m not going to change my mind,’ she snapped.
The anger finally hit Megan’s nervous system, scalding through her synapses. She pulled out several copies of the photograph of Amy O’Hara and slapped them down on the table beside her. Her voice when she spoke sounded like a cobra’s hiss.
‘Missing, presumed dead, last seen in Thessalia around two weeks ago. Her name’s Amy O’Hara. I’d like to find her if I can because she’s important to me. Put these up where they can be seen. Sorry to have been such an irritation to your day. Have a nice life.’
Megan whirled, only just catching the look of surprise on the girl’s face as she forged past Callum, who had watched the entire exchange in silence. Sophie Vernoux looked down at the photographs, and then at Callum.
‘We’ve had a long day,’ the Scotsman said, by way of an explanation.
‘Haven’t we all,’ Sophie replied, rediscovering some of her haughtiness, but it was half–hearted and without passion. She called out. ‘Wait!’
Megan halted near the hospital exit and turned, glowering at Sophie.
The nurse picked up one of the pictures. ‘We will put them up.’
Megan took a few paces back toward her.
‘We need to get access into the interior of the country.’
‘Why?’
‘We’re journalists, but we are mainly here to find this girl and get her home. We believe that she may have been abducted by rebel forces or factions, perhaps as a bargaining tool or as a human shield. We have some leads but we can’t follow them whilst we’re stuck here in Thessalia. Let us help you, and in return we’ll get the chance to find her.’
Sophie gripped the picture tighter, appalled by Megan’s request.
‘You’re just chasing stories, not people.’
‘No,’ Megan snapped back. ‘We’re chasing the truth. If the truth leads us to this girl, then all the better. One way or another, we’re going in–country, with or without your help. Medicines Sans Frontiers – that means doctors without borders , doesn’t it? So do you have borders between nurses helping people and journalists doing the same? Do you want to help her, or hinder us?’
A thin, bleak smile cracked across Sophie’s features.
‘That is appalling emotional blackmail, even for a journalist.’
‘That’s all we’ve got, I’m afraid, and right now I don’t care how we get her back.’
Megan watched as Sophie eyed her testily.
‘What would you know of reporting the truth? The world doesn’t want to know what happens in places like Mordania, or Bosnia, or Sierra Leone or Sudan. You’ll not get close to the truth, because none of the reporters here have managed it.’
Megan stared into her clear green eyes.
‘I will, whatever it takes.’
Sophie Vernoux snorted dismissively before looking one more time at the photograph. Then she spun away from Megan and Callum, snapping over her shoulder.
‘The next aid column leaves at eight tomorrow morning.’
***
12
The first heavy snow fell during the night, spiralling down silently through the lights of the city as though a galaxy of stars were falling from
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