Page 25 of Love, Accidentally

‘What has it got to do with his mother?’

‘She’s not well and he cares for her. Tash thinks there’s something dodgy about that as well. It’s like she’s determined to sabotage my happiness.’

Dr Patel frowns. ‘I don’t know your sister, obviously, but that’s not the impression she gave me. She knows she’s done the wrong thing and she seems desperate to make amends. It’s not for me to tell you what to do but, if I can stick my professional head back on for a minute, I’d quite like you to sort things out with her, because your miserable face is dragging down team morale.’

At school, we had to go to chapel every day and whoever was doing the Bible reading had to say ‘Here ends the lesson’ when they finished. The phrase ‘Here ends Dr Patel’s compassion’ has suddenly swum into my consciousness and I have to fight an irrational urge to laugh.

‘What would you do?’ I ask her.

‘Talk to her,’ she says, her professional mask completely back in place. ‘Then maybe talk to Dr Milne and find out what he’s up to. Whatever her motives, I think your sister has sown a seed of doubt in your mind where he is concerned, and you won’t rest easy until you know whether she’s right or not. Does that help?’

I nod. She’s right, I realise. I am going to have to do something, even if just to prove Tash wrong. I’m not sure I’m ready to speak to her yet, but it’s nice to know my anger is hitting the target.

‘Good.’ She starts to get to her feet. ‘Now, we’re flat out as usual, so can we get back to work and put a happy face on for the moronic punters?’

‘Actually, I do have one question before we go, if that’s all right?’

‘Fire away.’

‘Tell me it’s none of my business if you want, but you don’t seem to like the patients we treat here very much. Why did you apply for A&E?’

To my surprise, she laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Dr Patel laugh before; it’s a rich sound that seems to come from the very core of her, and it’s deeply disturbing.

‘Oh, Tilly,’ she breathes when she stops laughing. ‘It’sbecauseI don’t like them that I can survive in this place. It enables me to stay detached. If I was working somewhere like oncology, where you’re dealing with people who are often really sick through no fault of their own, I think it would drain me within a few days. In here, the ratio of cretinous injuries to true disasters allows me to maintain a sense of perspective and leave it all behind when I finish my shift. Does that make sense?’

I look at her for a moment and, weirdly, it does. She does the smiling thing again and an extraordinary thought comes to me. Quite without intending to, I’ve formed a tentative friendship with the most terrifying consultant in the department.

‘Shall we go and treat some dickheads?’ she asks.

I smile back at her. ‘Let’s.’

11

I haven’t said anything to Luke. Of course I haven’t. I’ve rehearsed thousands of scenarios in my head and none of them get round the fact that I’d have to own up to effectively stalking him in his previous life. Somehow, I don’t see him taking that news well. Plus, he’s obviously feeling penitent about how things ended last time he came over, because a massive bunch of flowers pitched up a couple of days later. I haven’t spoken to Tash either. My initial rage may have subsided, but her interference has definitely thrown things between Luke and me off balance, so I’m still cross with her about that.

I haven’t been avoiding Luke, exactly, but he’s noticed something is up. I obviously can’t tell him what’s on my mind, but he’s assumed it’s because I’m still pissed off with him about how he behaved and is being extra attentive. Normally, I’d be appreciative of his efforts, but I need time to get my head back into the right place, so I’ve had to invent reasons why we can’t meet as often, or why I’m not always in the mood for sex. I want to carry on trusting him, but I’m starting to understand how an oyster must feel when it gets a grain of sand inside the shell. There’s a nagging doubt that’s a constant itch in the back of my mind but, unlike the oyster, I doubt very much that it’s going to magically turn into a pearl.

Luckily, I also can’t tell him that I’m not speaking to Tash, as he’d obviously want to know why, so I’ve been able to use her as an excuse to avoid him on several occasions. However, as was bound to happen sooner or later, our shift patterns have fallen back in sync and I’m very aware of him staring at me all the way through the handover briefing.

‘Hello, stranger,’ he remarks when Dr Patel dismisses us. He’s positioned himself behind me so nobody can see his hand reach out to pat me on the bum.

‘Not at work,’ I tell him. To my surprise, he looks like I’ve slapped him.

‘Are you ashamed of me?’ he asks.

‘Of course not. I just like to keep my work and personal life separate. You of all people should be able to understand that,’ I can’t help adding a little sarcastically.

‘I see. And when you go on your break, will that be work time or personal time?’ His tone is bordering on petulant, and I’m starting to feel mildly irritated with him in return. Why can’t he understand that I need to focus 100 per cent on what I’m doing on shift, without him hovering around and trying to distract me? Also, now that I know we’ve been the subject of department gossip, I don’t want to fuel it further by going on my break with him. Thankfully, before I have to formulate an answer, the red telephone rings to let us know of a trauma coming in. As I’m closest, I answer it.

‘Gentleman aged sixty-one, found unresponsive in his home,’ the paramedic informs me. ‘Suspected overdose on paracetamol and vodka. We’ll be with you in seven minutes.’

I push Luke’s angst from my mind as the trauma team assembles. As soon as the ambulance arrives, the patient is rushed into the Rapid Assessment Triage unit.

‘The gentleman’s name is Jonathan Barwell,’ the paramedic informs us. ‘He was discovered by a neighbour, who noticed that the porch light was on during the daytime and raised the alarm when nobody would answer the door. Time of ingestion could therefore be anywhere from nightfall yesterday to this morning. However, his vital signs would indicate that it was fairly recent.’

‘Thanks,’ Dr Patel replies. ‘Given the uncertainty over the timing, I think activated charcoal is too much of a risk. We’ll go straight in with Acetylcysteine and hope he responds. Tilly, prepare an intravenous dose, would you?’

‘Yes, Dr Patel,’ I reply clearly. Dr Patel is a stickler for people answering when we’re in RATS, so she knows we’ve understood her instructions.

---