‘You’re not daft,’ Mr Travers says, the edge of something else poking through his accent.Is that a Scottish accent?‘C’mon. Do you want to come and work for me or not? The money’s good, the hours are better, and you very rarely have to deal with the twonks who’ve shoved strange objects in their vaginas. Although I did have the pleasure of dealing with one celebrity, who I cannot name, that managed to lodge a diamond-encrusted vibrator where the sun doesn’t often shine.’
I shake my head. Consultants with his kind of seniority don’t speak this way. Well, not to minions like me. Maybe they discuss this stuff on while dabbling on their yachts in Saint Tropez.
‘I’m flattered. Actually, I’m stunned. But why not someone more senior.’
‘Well. I see it as getting you cheap while you’ve no idea that you’ll be senior at some point, too. And costlier. But also because you’re a bloody good doctor. And because I like you.’
‘Oh, well. I think... I think I’d say yes.’
‘Great. I’ll go to HR and see what they can do. And while we’re talking jobs, Penny, rumour has it that you’re seeing someone in the Armed Forces?’ Hospitals, I know, are a den of rumour.
‘Yes, I am. Ben.’
‘Any chance you can ask him to meet us for a coffee one day? I have a business in Scotland that needs the touch of an expert. Maybe he can put me in contact with someone who might like to run gruelling survival camps for overweight corporate types.’
‘I’ll ask him. Sure.’
‘Then we’ll talk soon.’
I leave the office and pull out my phone, giddy at the thoughts of telling Ben my news. Before I can do so, I notice a text from Melody asking if mytoy boyand I are free for dinner this weekend. Ben’s not keen on the title, but as you can imagine it, Mel loves it.
I make my way into the staff changing room. St Lotte’s treats its staff much better than my current place of work. The changing rooms here would look at home in a high-end gym. I know because I visited one once. They had a juice bar; that was the only reason I went.
Chapter 24
NELL
Opening my locker, I slide my phone into the back pocket of my pants, lifting my purse to the shelf, when my head ricochets off the metal door, a skull cracking pounding striking the right side of my head twice. It’s not the impact that makes me drop to the floor but something primal, an instinct from deep inside me.Self-preservation.But that same survival mechanism tells me lying on the floor isn’t safe. My ears ring, and my head pounds, and as I pull myself up to sit, a shadow slides across the floor making my stomach feel incredibly sick. I pull myself up using the bench fitted to the wall, turning to face a girl. Just a girl. Dark hair and petite, she’s dressed in jeans and a blazer. She looks a little bit like me. A crazier version of me, on second glance.
‘Don’t say a word and don’t scream.’ It’s then I notice the gun in her by her thigh.
Come on. A gun? In one of London’s fanciest private hospitals?
‘I must’ve really bumped my head,’ I murmur, clutching the left side of my head. This can’t be real.
‘The bump on your head,’ the girl spits, ‘that would be from this.’ She waves the gun menacingly. ‘Next time I won’t hit you. I’ll just shoot you.’
‘Why?’ I roll my lips inwards. Stupid, stupid, Nell. Don’t argue with a gunman. Gun-woman? Gun-person? I don’t have visions of my life flashing before my eyes. What I have is idiocy. I take a deep breath as my veins begin to retract and pound with a belated panic. The woman is unstable. I need to think. Think, Nell, think! ‘C-can I help you. Do you need something? Money? Drugs? Let me help you.’
‘You can’t help me. Only Ben can.’ She takes a menacing step towards me as I find myself physically shrink where I sit.As though I could make myself more inconspicuous. My heart begins to beat as hard as the pounding in my aching head. I don’t have time to consider the connection, though my first guess would be a very crazy ex, certifiably crazy, as she speaks again. ‘I thought you were pregnant at first,’ she says, her eyes running over me with disdain. ‘Thought there must be something wrong with you, ’cause you were always at the hospital. But you’re a doctor,’ she asserts. ‘I saw it on your mail.’
‘Yes, I’m a doctor.’ My words waver, tears constricting my airflow. Has she been watching me? Us?
‘I almost wished you were pregnant. I got a knife. I was going to take your baby.’
The panic in my veins turns to ice-water. I swallow thickly, the pieces of this puzzle slotting into place.
‘Are you—’ My words halt as a thought strikes me. In Melody’s words, Ben was popular with the ladies. I’ve only heard him mention one girl but what if this isn’t the same person? What happens if I say a name that isn’t hers?
‘Go one. Say it,’ she taunts, waving the gun so casually, I flinch.
‘Samantha. You’re Samantha, aren’t you?’
Her smile is malicious. ‘What’d he say about me, then? Did he tell you about us? Did he tell you how in love we were?’
‘Yes. Yes, he did. He said he was sorry.’
‘He’s gonna be sorry,’ she says, her tone eerily calm. ‘But I’ll make it all better. He’ll see. I can be better for him this time.’
