Page 98 of Doc Defence

When she pulled her phone out of her bag, she panicked when she saw twenty missed calls from her parents. Her eye was forgotten, and she called them back. Something must be seriously wrong.

“Hello, sweetie,” Hel’s mum answered the phone on the first ring.

“Mum, what’s wrong?” Hel asked frantically.

“Nothing’s wrong. We had a strange phone call.”

“About what.” Hel’s shoulders sagged. She had been so convinced something awful had happened.

“It was from the spinal surgeon’s office, asking us if we’d like to schedule the surgery for Friday.”

Hel pulled the phone away from her ear and blinked at it a couple of times, unsure if she heard correctly.

Putting it back to her ear, she said, “Say that again.”

“They said they had a cancellation Friday, and would we like to take it.” Hel’s mum’s voice trembled slightly.

“What did you say?” Hel knew this had to be an error. She still hadn’t managed to collect the full amount to cover all the costs of the surgery.

“We said yes, but that you would phone them as you were arranging payment.”

“I haven’t paid.” Hel’s voice broke as she admitted that to her mum.

She would love for her dad to have his operation Friday and begin recovering, but she didn’t yet have enough to pay.

“Oh.”

Hel cringed at the sheer disappointment in her mum’s voice. “Sorry, mum.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. We appreciate everything you do for us. I know you’re working so hard to pay for this, and we are so grateful.”

“Give me a few minutes, I’ll phone them now and straighten it out.”

“Talk to you soon, sweetie. Love you.”

“Love you, mum.” Hel hung up and stared at the phone. What a crushing thing to happen to her dad, they must have made an admin error and rung the wrong patient.

She dialled the number for the surgeon’s private rooms.

“Good afternoon, Dr Delacort’s rooms.”

“Hi. My name’s Ethel Rayleigh,” Hel cringed as she used her full name. “My dad, Phillip Rayleigh, just received a phone call about scheduling surgery.”

“Indeed, Ethel.” The receptionist said her name slowly, as if even she couldn’t believe someone could be called Ethel.

Hel decided to interject, “I go by Hel.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” the woman on the end of the phone said. “I am so sorry, that slipped out.”

“It’s okay,” Hel laughed. “It’s a terrible name.”

The other woman clearly decided to gloss over her faux pas and was back to business. “Yes, we have a cancellation on Friday, and as your dad’s account has been paid in full, we wanted to schedule him as soon as possible.”

“I’m really sorry, you must have made a mistake somewhere. I’m paying for my dad’s surgery, and I don’t have the money yet,” Hel sighed deeply. She wished she did, but she was still twenty grand short.

“Oh. Let me check his file. Do you mind holding?”

“That’s fine.” Hel slumped onto a seat in the break room and dropped her head into her hands, then winced when she touched her sore eye. Shit, she would need it X-rayed to make sure she didn’t have an orbital floor fracture.

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