Noah smiled, envisioning his mother’s cool, calm exterior in the face of crisis, but knowing that inside she’d be calling her boss choice names. He could hear a very faint trace of her childhood Ghanaian accent – always a tell that she was under pressure. His dad, Leo, worked for the council, while his mum, Gilda, was a legal secretary and personal assistant to Helena McLean, a fierce, no-nonsense legend in the legal world, regarded as one of the top criminal defence solicitors in the country.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I know it’s a significant day today, so I’m just making sure that you’re okay and checking that I don’t have to get your sister to pencil you in for a session on her couch.’
All three of his sisters were in the medical profession. Keli was a nurse, Amelie was a carer in a nursing home, and Bria was a counsellor specialising in trauma and PTSD. He had one brother, Dylan, who had bucked the family trend and worked as a freelance photographer.
‘I’m fine, Ma. Really. I’ve just left Tress’s after Buddy’s birthday breakfast and I’m on my way to work. Thanks for worrying about me though.’
‘Always, my love. If it’s not one of you, it’s another. If you see Keli at the hospital today, can you check in on her for me? I’ve not been able to reach her for a couple of days and that’s not like her. Ignoring the world usually means she’s having a great time or a terrible time. I just want to make sure she’s fine and that she’s coming for dinner tonight.’
‘I’m sure it’s all good, Mum, but yes, I’ll check on her.’ It wasn’t a chore. His sister was one of his favourite people and he’d been thrilled when she’d joined him at Glasgow Central Hospital, albeit at the other end of the age spectrum. He was in paediatrics and Keli was a senior nurse on the elderly ward.
His mum began to wrap up the call. ‘Right, I need to go. And you’re still coming over for dinner later too?’
He knew better than to resist, understanding that Gilda’s need to care for her adult children through emotional challenges and hard times took the form of phone calls and feeding, sometimes both in the same day. ‘Of course, Ma. Not sure what time I’ll be there though – can I keep you posted?’
‘Of course you can.’
‘Great, thanks. I’ll see how the day plays out and how Tress is doing later.’
There was a pause at the other end of the phone, and he briefly wondered if they’d lost the connection, before his mum spoke again. ‘You know, son… I watched a documentary about Shania Twain last night…’
‘Ma, I’m just about to lose you, but I’ll buzz you later. Love you, bye!’ Noah hung up, aware he probably wouldn’t go to heaven now because he’d just bold-faced lied to his mother. Then he decided that no jury would convict him under the circumstances. Shania Twain’s romantic history was having an increasingly irritating impact on his life. It was nothing personal against Ms Twain or her music. He didn’t mind admitting that he knew all the words to ‘You’re Still The One’.
He distracted himself from his feelings of parent-centric guilt by placing his next call to Dr Cheska Ayton, head of A&E at Glasgow Central Hospital. She had been an old friend from their time as junior doctors, but somewhere in the last few months, their relationship had progressed to something more. Not that they’d ever put a label on it. They were more than friends, but less than a full-blown, committed relationship, and that suited them both. Cheska had slotted perfectly in to their ‘framily’ group. Her research thesis had been on Alzheimer’s, and Val’s husband, Don, was in the latter stages of the disease, so Cheska had been a steady support to Val too. She was someone special.And it made it her even more special that she put no pressure on him at all to define their relationship. No ties. No pressure. Her first love was her job and he was totally fine with that.
She answered on the first ring, and he immediately kicked off with, ‘Hey, gorgeous, I missed you last night.’
They slept over at each other’s homes once or twice a week, but Cheska had stayed at her own place last night, because she was going straight from a 10p.m. finish to a 6a.m. start. ‘Grey’s Anatomy, but with less make-up, more sleep deprivation, much lower budgets and no sex in the on-call rooms,’ was how Cheska described working at the hospital, and she probably had a point.
Cheska answered his greeting with a very formal, ‘Dr Clark, I concur with that diagnosis, but I’m waiting for scans. Can I get back to you?’ Code for yes, I miss you too, but I’m with someone at the moment and can’t talk.
Noah let out a low chuckle. ‘I love it when you talk doctor to me.’
‘I’ll be sure to keep you informed. Are you still available for the meeting we’d scheduled today?’
‘I wouldn’t miss it.’
‘Excellent. I look forward to it. Goodbye, Dr Clark.’
There was a click as she hung up first. His Carplay system automatically reverted to his music selections, and he felt his shoulders relax as Usher’s voice flooded his car. It was short-lived. His neck muscles spasmed back to stressed when the memory that he’d been dodging all morning finally barged into his brain. A year ago, Noah was in this same car, speeding down to Loch Lomond after he’d discovered his wife was in a hotel there. Anya had left that morning, saying she was flying to London for a business conference with Max, who worked for the same company. It was only after she was gone that Noah had realised she’d left her laptop behind, but when he’d called her office to track her down, he’d learned there was no Londonconference. Some more detective work had pointed him in the direction of a Loch Lomond hotel, but he didn’t even make it that far. He was almost there when he encountered the local police at the site of an overturned car, and inside… It was the worst thing he’d ever seen. His wife. His best friend. Both of them gravely injured.
The song changed, snapping him back to the present in the company of Beyonce. There were worse ways to pull himself out of the dark shadows of his memory. Bey serenaded him with her Renaissance album until he pulled into the hospital car park. It took the usual ten minutes to find a space, but he finally squeezed in between a Skoda and a Porsche.
As always, something about being on hospital grounds focused his mind, and his thoughts went to this morning’s clinic. In a normal clinic he’d see up to fifteen patients, usually a mixture of existing patients checking in for follow-up appointments, sometimes six monthly or annual reviews, alongside new referrals that required investigation, but today’s special clinic was just for three patients he’d been treating for some time. Paediatrics was one of the most rewarding disciplines, but it could be the most heart-breaking too. The best he could hope for in any given day was that the wins outweighed the losses. Most days they did.
Head down, Noah was almost past the woman walking the same path to the hospital entrance, before she cleared her throat pointedly.
‘Just as well you didn’t become a detective because your observation skills need work.’
Noah stopped, grinned, and threw his arm around his sister. Keli was ten years younger than him, the baby of the family, born six years after his younger brother and a surprise, given that Noah and his other three siblings had all come along in rapid succession.
Like the rest of the family, she was tall, around five foot nine inches and had been the most athletic of the girls. Bria was the dreamer, Amelie was the bookworm, but Keli was the track star, the basketball player, the tennis champ. They all thought she’d opt for a future in the sports industry, so it had initially been a surprise when she’d decided on a career in nursing, but she was made for it. She’d worked in a hospital in the nearby town of Paisley for many years after she qualified, but she’d moved to the elderly ward at Glasgow Central the year before and Noah loved having her in the same building.
‘You just saved me a job,’ he told her as they walked.
‘I did?’
‘Mum told me to hunt you down and do a welfare check. Says she hasn’t spoken to you for a couple of days. If I don’t give her a progress report by end of day, she’s calling in a SWAT team.’
