Victoria snaps on a pair of gloves from a wall-mounted box and struts towards the patient he’s attending to. I take a seat in the waiting area to watch.
A fire in a city bakery creates a challenging shift treating burn victims.
I could watch Victoria work all day long and never tire of it. She has such a knack with people. A compassion most never accomplish.
Harrison struts by, glaring like he wants to kill me. Mind you, I’d want to kill him too if Victoria shared her bed with him every night. The police might have ruled him out of their investigation, but I haven’t. He has an edge to him. An attitude. Like he’s above everyone and everything, including the law.
When Victoria eventually gets a fifteen-minute break, she heads to the reception area instead of the hospital canteen. ‘What are you doing?’
She sweeps a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. ‘I just need to check something. I can’t get that kid out of my mind.’
I don’t need to ask which kid, even though fifteen passed through here today already. Lily-May has been on my mind too.
A harassed-looking receptionist glances up with a sigh as we approach. ‘Doctor Sexton.’ She nods a greeting.
‘Hi…’ Victoria’s eyes dart to the woman’s NHS ID card, ‘…Violet. I wonder if you can help me. Can you check on a previous patient for me? Her name is Lily-May Fitzpatrick. You might remember her? She was treated here a couple of weeks ago for shock. Her mother collapsed in the waiting area and sadly died.’
Violet’s grey tight curls bounce as she nods her head. ‘I remember. The poor girl.’ Weathered fingers tap away at a keyboard on the desk.
‘I can’t stop thinking about her, wondering what happened to her,’ Victoria says.
Violet squints at her computer screen. ‘It says she was discharged into the care of social services.’
Victoria’s teeth worry at her lower lip. ‘That’s what I feared.’
‘It’s not a bad system.’ Violet’s tone convinces neither of us.
‘Would you want your daughter to end up there?’ Victoria blows out a huge puff of frustration. ‘Can you get the case worker assigned to Lily-May on the phone, please?’
Violet taps a biro thoughtfully on the desk. ‘Forgive me, Doctor Sexton. I know I’m only the receptionist, but Lily-May was discharged. It was terrible what happened to her, but she’s no longer a concern of ours. Contacting her is against protocol.’
Victoria straightens her spine and clears her throat with an air of authority. ‘I think we can both agree this was an exceptional case. I’d simply like to speak to her before I leave this hospital, or I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if she’s okay.’
Violet shrugs. ‘I’m not making that call, but I won’t stop you. It’s your registration you’re risking.’ She turns her screen around, flashing Victoria the contact details. Victoria takes a screenshot on her phone.
‘I didn’t see that,’ Violet says. ‘Storing patient contact details for personal use is a breach of patient confidentiality.’ What a jobsworth.
‘It’s for a good cause, I promise.’ Victoria whirls on her toes, thanks Violet and struts towards the vending machine. The coffee’s crap, but it’s hot.
‘I have a job for you,’ she whispers in my ear as she taps something on the screen of her phone.
‘Another one?’ My phone vibrates in my pocket. The child’s contact details.
‘Ryan knows someone that can find out things. The guy who does the background checks on all the staff. I’ve heard Sasha and Chloe talking about him. Apparently, there’s nothing he can’t find out. Can you please enquire into who is caring for this child? I know if I ring the social worker, they won’t tell me a thing.’
My heart quadruples in my chest. Victoria Sexton has the biggest heart I’ve ever known. She has the world at her fingertips, and yet she gives and gives and gives.
‘I’ll do what I can.’ We reach the vending machine and I punch the button for an Americano, holding a plastic cup under the nub. ‘But I can’t promise you’ll like what I find.’
The harsh truth is, if the child hasn’t been taken in by a relative, she’s either in a foster home or with a foster family.
‘Let me worry about that.’ Victoria takes the cup I offer, adding two sweeteners and stirring with the wooden stick.
I grab a second cup for myself. ‘Are you sad this is your last day?’
Victoria gazes at me from under those huge black lashes. ‘It won’t be my last day on A&E. I think I’ve found my spiritual home.’
‘Here?’ It’s a battle to keep the surprise from my voice. I knew there was a chance we might be here for another couple of years, but she’d mentioned applying in Ireland, too.
