“Botulism,” the doctor announced.

“Of course,” Sujin agreed.

“Caused by a toxin produced by the bacteria Clostridium botulinum,” continued the doctor. “Which attacks the central nervous system, hence your paralysis.”

“How?” Keya asked. Nobody had injected her with anything, apart from the doctors, and surely nothing had been added to her food or drink.

“Easily. It’s tasteless and odourless so you wouldn’t even realise you were consuming it. Although rare in store-bought foods, it’s surprising how easily it can develop at home. Potatoes baked in tin foil, improperly canned or preserved foods, homemade dips or sauces, or even food just left warm or unrefrigerated for too long. Especially when the temperature is high in the summer months.”

“My pickled vegetable roll at lunch,” she considered.

The doctor shook his head.

“Too quick. Botulism needs a minimum of four hours. Usually, it takes between eighteen and thirty-six hours, but it can take up to eight days for the symptoms to show.”

What had she eaten at the cafe? Were they serving something potentially fatal? But she’d only drunk tea yesterday.

“Tea?” she asked.

“The drink or the meal?” enquired the doctor. “The drink won’t be the cause. In fact, I encourage you to drink more of it, particularly herbal without milk as the antioxidants will help the paralysis and inflammation. The meal could if it contained any chutneys, tinned vegetables, or something similar which hasn’t been made properly.”

“Piccalilli,” gasped Keya.

“What?” asked Sujin, staring down at her, his brow furrowed.

“Maitri and I tried some homemade piccalilli for the deli yesterday.” Keya stopped. Maitri!

She tried but failed to grab Sujin’s arm. “You must call Maitri. She might be ill.”

“If you know someone else who might also have eaten the affected food, they must be checked out at their local hospital,” insisted the doctor.

Sujin’s eyes were wide with concern as he said, “I don’t have her number.”

Keya had no idea where her phone was.

“Call the cafe, or Millie, or Gilly.”

“OK, keep calm. I’ll do that now,” and Sujin left the examination area.

Keya sat back. Her brain was racing, but her body felt tired.

“We’ll keep you here in the critical care department overnight, and if you continue to respond to treatment, we’ll move you onto one of the main wards tomorrow. For now, I’ll leave you in the care of Nurse Roberts, but I’ll be back to check on you later.”

The doctor left the examination area and the round-faced nurse checked Keya’s pulse and temperature.

“How long will I be in for?” Keya asked.

“Don’t worry about that. Get some rest and concentrate on getting better. The quicker you do that, the sooner you’ll be out of here.”

The nurse smiled at Keya and helped her lie down on the bed. As she pulled the blue curtain back, a voice from the next bed cried, “Keya!”

Keya froze. “Peggy?”

“Yes, luv. I had a scare with my heart, and they rushed me here in an ambulance. Caused quite a scene in the village. All our neighbours came out to see me off. And Derek was in a flap.”

“Are you OK?” Keya knew Peggy had been receiving ongoing treatment for a heart condition.

“They ran some more tests and, like you, they’re keeping me here overnight for observation. But what’s wrong with you? Did I hear food poisoning?”

“Not at the cafe,” Keya replied hastily. “It might be from some homemade piccalilli I tasted last night.”

“Yes, you have to be careful with that,” Peggy conceded. “But how are you feeling now?”

“Tired, numb, and tingly. I can’t move my left arm, but my right arm is feeling better.” She lifted it again to make sure. “And so are my legs.” She wriggled her toes.

“The rest will do you good,” Peggy reasoned. “You’re always rushing around.”

In the silence which followed, Keya realised how ill some of the patients she could see were, hooked up to beeping machines and monitors.

She felt better, but also concerned that the doctors classified her illness as critical as the others in the ward. But at least she had Peggy’s cheerful demeanour to keep up her spirits.

“And who’s this?” asked Peggy as Sujin reached Keya’s bed. “Haven’t I seen you before?”

“Hi, I’m Sujin. A colleague of Keya’s,” Sujin introduced himself.

“You don’t look like a policeman.”

“I’m not. My title is crime scene technician.”

“Which means what?”

“I examine crime scenes, collect evidence, and work on the forensic side of an investigation.” Sujin removed his glasses and ran his hand through his dark hair.

“Hey, you’re that fiddle player. I knew I’d seen you before.”

“I’m with the Celtic Twisters.”

“You played at our local pub, The Dog and Duck,” Peggy remembered.

“That’s right. And Keya and Ryan were there.”

“Yes. They were.”

Nurse Roberts approached. “Now that’s quite enough of that. Other patients are resting and so should you two. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she said to Sujin.

“Maitri!” Keya cried.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Sujin promised.