‘You do! You like her!’ Pav said, his eyes wide and his finger pointing at Jamie’s ears. ‘The bloody ears are going – I knew it!’
Since he was a child Jamie’s ears had had a ridiculous tendency to turn pink when he was embarrassed or angry. Pav, who from the age of eighteen had made it his life’s work to embarrass Jamie at every available opportunity, discovered this foible early on at medical school. He loved the fact that Mr Control was never able to hide it when he fancied a girl or when he was riled.
‘I’m not in the mood for this shit today, Pav,’ Jamie snapped, his hands closing into fists.
‘Look, mate,’ Pav said, his tone now far more cautious given the mood-shift in the room. ‘I think it’s great. Your ears haven’t pinked up in years. This could be – ’
‘She’s a fuckingstudent,Pavlos. She’smystudent.’
‘Only for the next few – ’
‘She’s a baby, practically a teenager. Grow up. She still parties so hard that she can’t stay awake mid conversation. What part of that do you think is appropriate?’
‘That was only the one ti – ’
‘Twice, Pav. She fell asleep twice.’
‘You don’t know wh – ’
‘Look, if she’s not in scrubs, she dresses like a hobo at work. It’s clear that she’s a long way off adulthood. I’m not into little girls.’
‘Ugh!’ Pav threw up his hands in disgust. ‘Sometimes I don’t know why we’re even mates. You’resojudgmental. So what if she parties? So what if she turns up to work less than your quite frankly anal level of smart? At least she seems like a laugh. And anyway, you wouldn’t let her explain about the whole sleeping thing. Maybe she works … nights … or something.’
‘Nights?’ Jamie frowned at Pav in confusion. ‘What do you mean nights? The students aren’t on the on-call rota.’
‘I mean work for money. You know, to live? Ever heard of that?’
‘Why would you think she’s working nights?’
Pav looked away and cleared his throat. ‘I just don’t think you know the whole story,’ he muttered.
‘She’s had plenty of opportunity to explain since I cut her off.’
Pav put his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. ‘Come off it, you tosser. Would anyone bring it up again after you’d been that much of a dick about it?’ He shook his head and turned to leave. ‘Trouble with you is you’re too fucking straight. Loosen up for badger’s sake, or you’ll end up a miserable self-righteous old git, alone with your Sim-Man and yourOxford Textbook of Anaesthesia.’
Chapter 5
gwown-up cwying
‘Okay so at this point we would normally hand over to the incoming team, but since the patient hasn’t been stable and I’ve been with them from the beginning, I’m going to stay,’ Dr Grantham told them as the surgeon was putting in the last of the stitches.
What should have been a simple procedure had been complicated by a run of ventricular tachycardia. The surgeon had had to step away whilst Dr Grantham stabilised the patient. Libby was starting to see what he had meant the other day when he said anaesthetics was ninety-nine per cent boredom and one per cent sheer terror. The surgeon had totally lost his cool: why he thought that the repeated use of the f-word and waving his hands in the air would flip the patient back into sinus rhythm was a mystery to the rest of the theatre, but that seemed to be his chosen technique.
In contrast, Dr Grantham was completely calm. He attached the defibrillator paddles, went through practiced motions, and shocked the patient back into a normal heart rhythm within a couple of minutes. Despite his efficiency, though, the list had now overrun and it was already five thirty.
‘You guys are of course free to go but medicine is unpredictable and thisisa learning opportunity,’ Dr Grantham said.
‘I’m staying,’ Toby replied at warp speed, and Libby closed her eyes slowly. ‘Got to take advantage of every learning op we’ve got, haven’t we, Libs?’ He turned his smug face towards her and she sighed. He knew she wouldn’t be able to stay, not at short notice. Toby was on the surgical team, but Dr Grantham often ended up teaching the surgical students as well if their allocated consultant was ignoring them.
‘I … ’ She glanced at the clock on the wall of the theatre before squaring her shoulders. ‘I can’t stay. I’m sorry but I – ’
‘No need to apologise,’ Dr Grantham told her, his voice tight as he turned back to the monitors and made an adjustment to the pressure on the ventilator. ‘It’syourlearning, Libby, not mine. If you’ve got somewhere more important you’ve got to be, then you’re free to leave.’
Libby felt a flash of anger shoot through her. If she were four she would have stamped her foot. But she was not four; she was the adult. The familiar weight of heavy responsibility settled on her shoulders, chasing away her anger and leaving only the all-too-familiar feeling of defeat in its wake. ‘No, you don’t understand. I would stay but Ihaveto – ’
‘Libby,’ Dr Grantham snapped. ‘If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t exactly have time to chat. If you need to go,go. Right, Toby, we’re going to prepare the patient to transfer to ICU and once we’re there I’ll need to insert a central line; you can assist.’
Libby stood for a moment, her mouth slightly open, ready to defend herself, ready to make him listen to her explanation. But as she watched the two men turn away from her, dismissing her completely, her shoulders slumped.
