“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching towards me in a way that made it seem as though he didn’t have full control of his hand, before he snatched it back and turned away to walk out of the room. When I knew he was gone, I took a deep breath in through my nose, blew it out through my mouth, and only then did I let a small sob escape. Turning into the safety of Mark’s chest, I let go completely, soaking his shirt with blood and tears as my body shook with misery. A pad of gauze was pressed to my temple by someone and Mark held it there. The others must have all left then, because by the time I’d managed to get a hold of myself, five minutes later it was just me and Mark.
“You ready, looney toon?” he asked, his voice gentle as he gave me another full body squeeze.
I cleared my throat, straightened my spine and blinked away the last of my tears. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“You know, it’s not weakness to ask for help,” Mark said as he turned me towards the door.
“I was . . . I mean, I thought I was handling it,” I said. “And at first it wasn’t….” I sighed. “It was insidious. I would have looked like a pillock complaining about him at the start. Like a special snowflake. And I’d had all that trouble with the exams. I didn’t want to look like theproblem trainee.”
Mark huffed. “This department is bloody lucky to have you and they know it. Ever thought that perhaps Wankpuffin is theproblem trainer, not the other way around?”
“I guess . . .” I closed my eyes to avoid Mark’s accusing gaze, my voice was small which I hated, but for once I didn’t seem to be able to turn up the volume, “I guess I didn’t think people would take me seriously. I know I can be a bit . . . out-there. And I know people think I’m super-confident. I just . . . I just didn’t think anyone would believe me.”
“Anyone who thinks quirky, a bit out-there, and a lot weird constitute an unreliable person is an idiot. Sometimes it’s the most serious people who are the least reliable, the least likely to follow through on any of the crap they spout off.”
*****
Barclay
I didn’t think I would ever get over hearing Kira sob like that and not be able to comfort her; not even be able to stay in the same room. A heavy weight sat on my chest as I tried to work through my worry and anger. The looks I was getting from the people moving around the busy department were a mixture of confusion and contempt. Everyone here loved Kira. Everyone everywhere seemed to love Kira.
‘I asked you again and again what was wrong.’
Mark’s words echoed through my head, mocking me and my self-involved, bullshit attitude. Had I even asked Kiraoncewhat was wrong? Had I ever asked heranythingabout her work? Well, that was all going to change now. I was earning back Kira’s trust and thenIwas going to be the one she would cry on if she needed. Not that she was going to be doing any more crying, because I was also going to make damn sure there was nothing for her to cry about.
Movement from inside the room caught my attention. I knew she wouldn’t want to see me now and maybe, for once, I should bloody well listen. So, as the door handle started to turn, I pushed off from the wall and jogged away. Sam met me outside the main entrance. I’d made him wait outside the hospital so that I could catch Kira on her own before she started her clinic – yet another example of my selfishness. She’d said she didn’t want to see me. But for some reason, just like my father, I’d felt it was appropriate to go and interrupt her at her place of work because I couldn’t get access to her any other way and I needed to see her.
“How–?” Sam started, but I cut him off.
“Can you send someone else to watch her and keep the press away?” I asked. “Someone she doesn’t know. I don’t want her to feel . . .” I swallowed, my throat felt tight. “I don’t want her to feel . . . pushed into a corner. She’s had enough of that.”
“What happened?” Sam asked. “Did that twat she works with give her a hard time again?” Sam knew? This just got worse and worse.
For what felt like the hundredth time that week, I scrubbed both hands down my face and took in a deep, frustrated breath before I met Sam’s accusing stare. Sam liked Kira. Of course he did. Just like everyone else. I sighed.
“I’ll tell you everything,” I said, my tone defeated. “Just get someone down here now that can watch herdiscretely. I–I need to know she’s okay.”
Chapter34
I will discredit you
Kira
I sat outside my ARCP staring at the wall opposite me. I’d done a lot of that over the last few days. A lot of staring at walls. In an unprecedented move, an actual NHS department had insisted that I take these last few days off work. Any NHS doctor will tell you that that particular pill is bittersweet as you know that the hospital will not replace you with a locum, but that your colleagues will be covering your work. As for me, I was confused as to why I needed time off at all. I thought I’d probably function well at work at the moment. I felt like all my emotions were switched off – like someone had flipped a switch. I would be a machine on the wards and in clinics. Without my normal relentless banter, I’d probably be a hell of a lot more productive. However, today was the first day I’d left Millie’s house, and the fact my palms had been sweating and my heart had felt like it was beating outside my chest as I walked through the hospital, was an indication that it might take longer than I thought to start functioning normally.
After I’d been patched up in A&E (the cut was deep but only needed two stitches – it was the bruising and swelling that really made me look like a poster girl for domestic violence) and then endured what seemed like an endless amount of time talking to the police, it was Millie who took me home.
If I had been capable of registering emotion over the last few days, I have to say that most of it when it came to Millie would have been surprise. She rocked up at the emergency department minutes after I arrived there, launched herself at the hospital bed and wrapped me up in a tight, extremely un-Millie-like hug. It was the first spontaneous hug I’d ever received from her. Of course, I’d squeezed the life out of her loads of times, but Millie very rarely initiated physical contact herself.
Even more shocking was that she stayed with me and took me home once everything was done, skipping an entire afternoon of work (Millie rarely took even bathroom breaks from her job as a radiologist). After that Millie and Pav fielded my visitors – only letting Libby, Jamie and Mark in to see me – not that I spoke much, what with all the wall staring. I knew I was starting to freak everyone out, but I just didn’t know how to snap out of it. The only emotion I seemed to be capable of at the moment was fear. For the first time in my life, I was waking up sweating with nightmares. Even during the day, images of Simon would flit through my brain and it was like I was back there again – feeling the impact of the wood on my temple again. Anxiety had never been a problem for me before, and now it seemed like it was consuming me.
So, Millie was here, sitting next to me outside my ARCP. She’d told me that morning that she’d already booked leave for my ARCP even before The Incident. Why Millie would take leave for an appraisal ofmycareer was a mystery. I would normally have peppered her with questions / sung eighties classics until she’d have told me why she was coming with me, but this morning I just found myself nodding and agreeing with her like it was perfectly normal for her to be in attendance. To be honest, I was happy to carry on staring at the wall and block everything out. The less I said, the less I had to interact with others.
“Dr Murphy?” I heard a male voice, call and tore my eyes away from the wall to see Prof standing in the doorway to the conference room. What was he doing here? He never came to these things. I nodded once and pushed up from the chair, touching the gauze on my temple self-consciously as I followed him into the room to face the panel. There were three others there: a man from the Deanery, the director of education for the GU registrars, andNigel Derwentas a management representative. Prof rounded the long table and sat down next to Nigel, before giving me an encouraging smile. I blinked. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen Prof smile, and I’d never seen him give anyone anencouragingone. The man from the Deanery gave my face a quick scan, before he darted his eyes back to his papers in front of him and shifted uncomfortably on his chair.
“So, Dr Murphy,” he began. “This is your second ARCP as a GU registrar. I hope you understand that we have to beverythorough in our assessment today.”
I dragged my eyes away from the wall to glance at him briefly, managed another nod and then resumed my contemplation of the peeling paintwork.
