‘Yeah,’ he muttered, shoving his wallet into his back pocket and rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Yeah, she is.’
‘Maybe you should let her off this presentation business,’ Jamie suggested. ‘Doesn’t seem to be her gig. And you know what Libby says about Dr M. being misunderstood. That she’s … well … sensitive … or something.’
Pav frowned at the door, then shook his head. ‘She’s not given me anyrealreason she can’t do it, mate. It’s not enough of an excuse that she just doesn’t fancy it. We’ve all got to contribute from time to time. She needs to get over herself and quite frankly she needs to stop being so prickly and start becoming a team player. I mean, how long has she worked here now and everyonestillcalls her Dr Morrison? Get over yourself. Smile more, look people in the eye; it’s not rocket science. Jesus.’
Chapter 7
Absolute terror
Millie stared out at the audience and swallowed, her eyes flicking back to the laptop in front of her. There was still a low murmur of voices through the lecture theatre, but as she continued to stand there, saying nothing, silence slowly spread until you could hear a pin drop. A trickle of sweat ran down her spine as she cleared her throat, her eyes flicking up to the sea of faces before going back to the much safer territory of her laptop. She knew Anwar was behind her but she was too scared to turn her back on the audience to seek him out. Don had promised her he would sit in the front row, but she hadn’t been able to pick him out, likely due to the fact that she only seemed to be able to manage looking up for a microsecond at a time. She gripped the sides of the lectern until her knuckles turned white, and tried to slow her breathing.
‘I …’ Her voice came out as a strangled squeak, about two octaves higher than was normal. She attempted another micro-glance into the audience and this time her eyes clashed with His dark brown ones, which she could see were clouded with annoyance under thick brows lowered in a frown. Millie was used to hostile looks, she knew she was not a person people warmed to, but for some reason the negative reaction from this man hurt her more.
After humiliating herself in front of him and practically begging not to do the Grand Round, she hadn’t been able to face him again in person. She’d sent a few emails suggesting alternatives to her actually standing up to give the talk, but they had all fallen on deaf ears. Eventually she had given up and decided that maybe if she used some of the techniques she learnt with Anwar,maybeshe could do it. He’d given her a couple of extra sessions to help her get ready for it. And he was going to give the second half of the presentation. She only had to talk for five minutes maximum; she’d look at Don on the front row instead of the audience; she’d remember to keep her breathing slow; she’d …
‘I …’ She tried to start again but her vocal cords still refused to cooperate. When she looked up her eyes caught on one of the cardiology consultants who had confronted her last week after she changed one of his requests to a more appropriate scan. A testosterone-fuelled cardiologist with a dented ego was a tricky beast to placate, and unfortunately Millie’s social skills had been nowhere near up to the task. She hadn’t missed his muttered ‘Nuclear bloody Winter’ comment as he’d stalked out of the radiology department, and she could plainly see the satisfied smirk on his face now.
She looked back down at her laptop but the words of her PowerPoint presentation were blurring; all she could see were rows and rows of her colleagues, all with the same mocking smiles on their faces, all revelling in her embarrassment. A sick feeling swept up over her as she felt heat flood her face. Her stomach roiled and she took a shaky step back from the lectern, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Pins and needles were spreading up from the tips of her fingers to her upper arms and the edges of her vision were closing in. She looked up, desperate to catch sight of Don, but instead her eyes snagged on His yet again. The annoyance from earlier was now replaced with confusion – and he had risen halfway out of his seat. Before she could look away everything went black.
*****
Pav surged forward when he saw her start to fall, but was too late to prevent the sickening thud of her head hitting the floor. What was that great big oaf of a psychologist doing, standing behind her and watching her go down with a shocked expression on his face? Bloody move, you idiot! Catch her!
When she’d first stood up and spared only a few aloof, cold glances at the crowd, Pav had been annoyed. Her obvious reluctance to speak to a group of doctors she worked with pissed him off. So, when her knuckles turned white as she gripped the lectern, her face flooded with colour, her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and a bead of sweat trickled down her temple, he’d been confused. What he would never forget was the unmasked terror in her eyes as she’d looked up at him that last time, or the way her face had drained totally of all its previous life and colour, before she sank to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
Pav knelt down next to her, tilted her head and lifted her chin, then lowered his ear over her mouth whilst he felt her carotid pulse in her neck. His own breath left him in a sudden exhale of relief when he felt hers against his cheek and his fingers registered the pulsing of her artery. He brought her far hand over to the other side of her face, lifted the arm nearest him up so it lay at a right angle to her body, and then hooked her under the knee across from him to pull her onto her side and into the recovery position.
She may have been breathing and her pulse may have been strong, but it didn’t change the fact she looked … dead … the fine veins on her eyelids standing out against the still-pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat.
‘Dr Morrison,’ he said, giving her shoulder a gentle shake and smoothing back into place a tendril of light-brown hair that had escaped her ever-present bun. ‘Millie?’
‘Jesus Christ,’ a voice next to him said as whoever it was tried to push him to the side. ‘Sweetheart, come on. Talk to Don now.’
Pav looked up to see Don Phillips’s wrinkled face focused on Millie. The old man’s features were soft with concern as he looked down at her.
‘Enough of this nonsense now, Millie,’ Don told her, attempting a stern tone that was undermined by the concern threading through the words. ‘Who’s going to get me back onto the system for reporting this afternoon if you’re lounging around on the floor?’ Millie’s thick eyelashes stirred and slowly blinked open until she was looking straight at Pav. She stared at him for a moment before her brow furrowed and that dreadful fear from earlier started creeping into her expression.
‘Out of my way, you big bloody idiot,’ Don snapped, giving Pav a surprisingly hard shove from the side. ‘You’re the last thing she wants to see right now. Show’s over, folks,’ he said to the gathering crowd around them as Millie proceeded to curl further into a ball on the floor and squeeze her eyes shut.
‘Are you lot deaf?’ Don shouted when the people around them were slow to react. ‘I saidbugger off.’
That seemed to get everyone moving much more rapidly. Don shot Pav a furious look and jerked his head towards the door before softening his expression again and prising away one of Millie’s hands, which were both clutched to her chest, to take it in both of his.
‘All over now, love,’ he murmured, stroking the side of her head. ‘Can’t stay here now though; think old Prof Binky’s lecturing this afternoon and the med students might find a woman on the floor a touch offputting.’
Pav watched Millie’s wide grey eyes blink a couple of times as she scanned the crowd around her. She was terrified.
‘Now, now, Millie,’ Don said, his voice managing to be soft and commanding at the same time. ‘You focus on my face now. Nothing else. Understand?’
Once Millie was focused on Don, some of the fear leaked out of her expression.
‘Right, you’re going to stand for me now, love, okay?’
Millie let out a breath and closed her eyes but gave Don a tight nod. Everyone other than Anwar had moved back from her after Don’s outburst, but they were yet to actually leave the lecture theatre. Pav felt a surprisingly strong wave of annoyance as he surveyed the curious people around him, a fair few of whom were rubbernecking to try and get a glimpse of the prostrate Millie. Nosey bastards.
‘Right, clear off!’ he found himself shouting. ‘You heard me: get back to work. Grand Round is cancelled.’
There was a pause as the low hum of voices subsided following Pav’s outburst. A few of the surgeons at the front gave him curious looks.
