I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. It was like he hacked into my account. But he paid me one thousand pounds in advance and he said I get another grand at the end of the month if I only talk to him.”
“So he wants you to perform for just him?” she whispers as we walk back to the front desk on the ward.
“Correct. But he wants me to keep my clothes on. Said he just wants to talk.”
“What’s he want to talk about?” Hazel fills in a chart on the front desk while I tidy up some paperwork.
“Just random stuff. Nothing in particular, really.”
She points the pen in my direction. “You know you’ve hit the jackpot there.”
I furrow my brow. “You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Honey, if a man wanted to pay me two gees a month to talk to him, I’d quit my day job.” She throws her head back with a laugh. “I wouldn’t even care what he looked like.”
“I don’t know what he looks like. He never showed me his face.”
“Maybe he’s ugly.” She nods her head. “Maybe he’s scarred or disfigured.” Her hand grabs my wrist. “Have you ever nursed a disfigured man back to health?”
I shake my head with a half laugh.
“What’s funny? He could be a patient that wants to thank you for taking care of him.”
“Your imagination is wild.” I check the time on my fob watch. “Sadly, I haven’t nursed any rich disfigured men back to health.”
Dr Fletcher strides onto the ward with a bright smile against his tanned skin. “Morning, ladies.”
We both give him a fake smile, then grimace as he walks around the desk and into the office.
Hazel nods in his direction. “Rachel was on the night shift with him last week. You should have seen her flirting with him.” She screws her face up and shakes her body as if a cold shiver went through her then goes about her rounds, checking on the rest of the patients.
I find it difficult to see how anyone would want to flirt with him, but most of the nurses find him charming, which makes me think it’s just me and Hazel that hava a problem with him. Maybe it’s because he triggers me. Growing up, my brother’s friends would slime all over me, Ash was always high to see what was going on right under his nose.
The buzzer sounds from bed four, making me jump, and I make my way over to Mrs Riley. “Morning. How are you today?”
She tugs at her oxygen mask and pulls it down over her chin. “Feeling a little better, my love.”
“That’s good to hear. Do you want to sit up?”
She nods her head, holding her bruised elbow from her fall.
I press the button on the side of the bed to lift it, bringing Mrs Riley into a sitting position, then check her catheter and oxygen levels.
“Thank you, dear.” She pats my hand with her frail one.
“You’re welcome.”
Margot, the senior nurse, wheels the drug trolley to the foot of Mrs Riley’s bed, ready to spot me with her meds. “Morning Mrs Riley. Did you sleep well?”
She lifts her oxygen mask from her face. “Not a great night, dear. The gentleman in the bay over was coughing all night, bless his soul.” She has a little cough herself before she continues. “Sounded awful. I was ever so worried for him.”
“I’ll check on him after your meds. Then it will be time for your breakfast. It’s your favourite this morning.” I adjust her pillow so she’s more upright and hand her a glass of water in a sippy cup.
Margot hands me her chart. “Check the patient information. Date of prescription, dosage and check the medication is in-date.”
I do all the steps and take the pills from the packet while she watches over me. I’m used to the routine now, but until I’m a registered nurse, I won’t be allowed to administer medication without supervision.
“Lilly, your policeman’s here again,” Hazel says with a hint of a smile as she sidles up next to me with a cart of fresh bedding.
