Chapter One
Finchcrest Hospital
London, England
July 28, 2019
Evie forced herselfto sit in a calm, composed manner rather than indulge in her trademark fidgeting. Today’s massive overstepping of boundaries concerned her. The consequences might reach a level of seriousness she preferred not to think about. Her thoughts raced, searching for a means of atonement that might appease everyone. Nothing came to mind, so she adopted her best fake smile. “I am quite well now, Maggie. I promise.”
“This report from your immediate supervisor states otherwise.” Dr. Margaret Stroud, respected peer, personal physician, and closest friend, frowned down at the open file on her desk. “Your blood pressure along with statements from several nurses in the unit also confirms that assessment.” She looked up, peering over the top of her reading glasses like a professor about to swoop down on a student caught napping. “This is the second time, Evie. And the last according to everyone on the food chain above you.”
“So, I’m being dismissed?” The severity of the verdict tightened her fists until her nails dug into her palms. “You drew the short straw then? Won the hatchet to lop off my head for protecting my patient?”
“You recklessly extended the man’s surgery by two hours, refused to allow the staff surgeon to close, and when the consultant confronted you about it, you called him a murderous, penny-pinching bastard.” Maggie jabbed the air with her pen as her brows rose to judgmental levels. “Not only called him that but yelled it in his face. Several times, in fact. In front of witnesses, no less. Then you escaped the disturbing scene you created by blacking out.”
“I did not recklessly extend my patient’s surgery. I discovered the possibility of additional bleeds and a blockage that needed immediate attention. If I had followed protocol, the man would’ve returned to the waiting list and died, considering its current length.” She blinked at the telltale flashes of light signaling one hell of a migraine loomed in her near future.
Her friend’s intense gaze sharpened. “Your headaches are worse, too. Are they not?”
“Only when I forget to eat.”
Cripe’s sake, Evie realized she needed to get her rage under control. But a man’s life hung in the balance this time. Well, every time if anyone counted all her rants and took notes. And yes, a spiraling rage session ending in a blackout raised some serious flags. But did it warrant letting her go?
“By the way, I’m positive that’s why I fainted. In the future, I intend to keep protein bars in my locker to ensure my blood sugar maintains a healthy level.” Forcing her hands open, she rubbed her sweaty palms on her scrub pants. Oddly enough, she never perspired during procedures. The operating theatre felt more like home than her tiny flat.
Maggie hissed out a long-suffering sigh as she slipped off her glasses and tossed them to her desk. Evie felt sorry for her friend. Poor Mags. The title of judge and jury fell to her because she had made the fatal mistake of befriending the black sheep surgeon at Finchcrest Hospital.
Evie decided to make it easier on her friend. “How long do I have to clear out? Today? End of the week perhaps?” She pushed up from the chair and strode over to the window, separating the blinds to stare down into the car park that still needed repaving. She’d miss that weed infested bit of asphalt.
“You are the best surgeon Finchcrest has ever known.” Maggie leaned back in her black leather chair and swiveled it back and forth. “Your unmatched talent is all that’s saving you, my friend, but you need to understand this is your last lifeline.” She opened her top drawer, rummaged through it, then tossed a ring of keys onto the desk. “A month’s suspension. With pay, luckily enough.” She nodded toward the keys. “Remember my cottage outside Inverness?”
“The place that is far too quiet and remote as hell if I remember correctly?” Evie twitched an indifferent shrug to minimize the situation. “I do not need time off. It’s a mere blood sugar thing that I am going to handle.” She tapped the folder in front of her friend. “Check the chart. Right there. You have the labs to show it.”
“Your blood sugar has nothing to do with your inability to filter your opinions before they come out your mouth, and whether or not you need it, you are taking this leave. Your records show you have taken no time off in over three years, and I know your habit of asking for extra shifts.” Maggie leaned forward and rested both hands on top of the folder. “This is not a choice. For both your health and your career, you have one month to get yourself in order and return as a surgeon who plays well with others. Understood?”
“Mags—”
Maggie’s warning look cut her off. “Take this chance, Evie. It’s the best I could do for you. Either take the time to discover your version of inner peace and lock it in place or clear out by tomorrow.”
Evie picked up the keys and slipped them into her pocket. “I’m grateful, Maggie. You didn’t have to do this.”
With a sad smile, her friend shooed her toward the door. “Yes, I did. Believe it or not, there are people here who care about you, and I’m one of them. Now, go. Enjoy Inverness. Get out and explore. Text me some pictures to make me jealous.”
“You bet.” Evie nodded, already plotting to spend her thirty days laying low in London.
“Be on the plane, train, or bus to Inverness by this afternoon,” Maggie warned. “I am required to follow up and provide proof to personnel that you are cooperating with your recommended therapy.”
“Fine.” She yanked open the door and shot a frustrated look back. “I’m doing this for you, Maggie.”
Maggie shook her head. “Do it for yourself.”
*
About an hourand a half by plane won out over forever on a train and even longer by bus. Tickets from Heathrow to Inverness weren’t all that pricey either. Not that she worried about money. She lived like a monk and saved an embarrassing percentage of her salary. Life alone in her spartan flat cost her very little. So, now she was off to Scotland. What in the world would she do for a month in Inverness? The prospect made her shudder.
After having to stand and step aside three times for the elderly gentleman who probably suffered from prostate issues, she offered him her aisle seat and took his place beside the window. Poor man. What a miserable feeling. A constant urge to pee and little relief no matter how many visits to the loo.
Thankfully, he nodded off soon after, leaving her to sort through her notes in peace. A rental car waited at the airport. Caretaker’s name was Gertrude, and she kept the cottage stocked with food, towels, and any necessities needed for an extended stay. If she needed anything else, Gertrude’s number was on the board in the kitchen. If not, she would never see the woman. Maggie swore the caretaker was a rare type when it came to respecting everyone’s privacy.
