‘If you want him to.’
Christopher was invited in. Dressed in his usual casual sweater and jeans, he looked worried and he looked young. ‘Are you all right, Megan?’
‘A bit shaken, but I’m in good hands here.’
Christopher promptly turned to the young doctor, introduced himself and said, ‘In no way am I interfering with your diagnosis and treatment, Doctor. I just want to take her home if she can be released. Can she go home?’
The doctor was obviously taken with Christopher’s professional courtesy. ‘In an ideal world I’d keep her in overnight for observation, but if you can vouch for her, certainly she can go home. And if she tries to work tomorrow, she’ll be in agony.’
‘I’ll see to that. I’ve got another SHO who can rally round.’
Poor Will, she thought.
There were more cases waiting, so she shook hands with the doctor and Christopher led her out. ‘I ought to go to the police station at some stage,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to make a statement.’
‘No.’ A flat refusal. ‘That can wait till tomorrow. I’ll phone and tell them you’ll be coming round.’
‘Can you … can you find out how Jeremy Parks is?’
‘Do you care?’
‘I don’t care. I want to know.’
‘Wait here, then.’ He left her in the waiting room again and walked confidently back to the treatment section. Two minutes later he was with her again.
‘Of course, we’re not supposed to give out information to just anyone who asks,’ he said, ‘but being a consultant does carry some privileges. Jeremy Parks is being kept in for observation. Nothing serious – minor cuts to the face, extensive bruising to the abdomen. He’ll walk out tomorrow morning. One thing more. The police asked the doctors to check, and there was alcohol in his bloodstream. Not a vast amount, but enough to put him over the limit.’
Christopher grinned nastily. ‘It looks like nothing nice is happening to Mr Parks. Oh, and I talked to the policeman. A statement tomorrow will be fine.’
He took her to his car. In spite of her protestations, he wrapped a blanket around her and reclined her seat a little. Then they set off.
She should have been all right – there was little left to worry about – but after a while the tears started to trickle down her face. Then the sobs started. She tried to contain them but couldn’t. They passed under a lamppost, and she saw him glance down at her face.
He pulled gently into a lay-by, switched off the engine, and reclined his own seat until it was level with hers. He unbuckled both of their seat belts and gathered her to him. It was comforting to be there with his arms around her, feeling the warmth of his body, smelling the essence of him. In time she calmed down.
‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘it was just shock. I’m all right now. I’ve been … hanging onto myself.’
‘It makes no difference. We can stay here as long as you like. Are you comfortable?’
‘Yes. I like having your arms round me.’
She lay there and he kissed her gently on her lips and face. ‘Your tears taste of salt,’ he told her.
‘What d’you expect? They’re bound to be salty.’
‘Lord preserve me from scientific women,’ he breathed. Then he kissed her again. It was comforting rather than passionate. Her neck ached, her back ached, she still felt lost. But she would have liked a more passionate kiss.
‘Where are we? I haven’t been kissed in a car in a lay-by for years.’ She eased his arms from around her, and struggled upright. There had been the reflection of white light on the car roof, and when she looked out of the window she saw an oil refinery. Thousands of lights illuminated steel pipes, chimneys, gantries, walkways. There wasn’t a person to be seen. Behind was the dark curve of the river, reflecting a rippled image of the refinery. It was man-made but it was beautiful.
They both looked out in silence for a while. Then she turned and kissed him absently. ‘We’d better go,’ she said. ‘I feel better and I’ve things to tell you.’ She reached behind her and adjusted her seat.
He raised his seat, too. ‘I’m the senior doctor here and I’m not sure you’re fit to talk. But I want to know what happened.’
‘Drive. I’ll find it easier to talk if we’re moving. I’ve got a confession to make. And as my consultant you ought to know about it.’
‘Sounds serious,’ he said, ‘but I’ll bet it isn’t.’ He started the car and he pulled out onto the road.
‘Well, it’s partly your fault. You told me to fight for myself. Medicine could be a bit hard, I had to stop being taken for a ride.’
‘That’s right,’ he said, ‘that’s what I told you.’
She gripped her hands together. Now she had to tell her story, to re-live it, and it brought back the full horror of what had happened. And what could have happened. She wondered if she should wait – no. This had to be said now.
‘I just wanted to get out of hospital; to go anywhere, so I went for a drive in the country. Then my mobile rang. I was in the middle of a wood, miles from anywhere. It was Jeremy Parks. He was driving right behind me.’
She could tell Christopher was listening intently by the way he kept glancing at her. ‘Parks … phoned you from his car when you were in the middle of nowhere?’
‘Yes. He was threatening me, wanting another story to get him out of trouble. He said he still had the tapes and he could make up a story out of them.’
‘How did he know you were there?’
It hadn’t struck her so far – other things had seemed more important. Suddenly she felt sick. ‘He must have followed me,’ she said, ‘all the way from the hospital. It’s the only way he could have known where I was going.’ The thought of Parks hiding, watching her, chasing her, was horrible.
‘So you were in the middle of the woods, on a lonely road, and he was too close behind, phoning you.’
‘Yes. And suddenly there was this deer in the middle of the road.’ She swallowed. ‘Anyway, I did an emergency stop and he crashed into me. I was shocked, of course. I still am a bit, and my neck hurts, but that’s all.’
‘No problem. It was all entirely his fault.’
‘Christopher, there’s more. I’m supposed to be a doctor. When I saw he was trapped I didn’t try to free him. I didn’t think he was seriously hurt, but I should have tried to help him. I threatened him. I made him give me the tapes. Christopher, I deliberately made him suffer! What kind of a doctor am I?’
He didn’t have the reaction she’d expected. He laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.
‘You’re funny. You ask what kind of doctor you are. I’d say you’re turning into a good one.’
‘But I didn’t help him when he was injured!’
Patiently, he said, ‘You have to have a sense of proportion, Megan. You knew he wasn’t seriously injured. Call it triage if you like – seeing to the most important things first. In this case, that was getting the tapes.’
‘So I wasn’t unprofessional?’
‘You did what was exactly right. And I know more than a few doctors who would have left him where he was. Now, don’t worry!’
After that she sank into a half-sleep, which was probably as a result of the painkillers. Christopher helped her back to her room, saw that she had a hot drink and that the painkillers were by her bed.
‘Now, this is a direct order,’ he told her. ‘You are not to report to the ward tomorrow. I’ll arrange cover for you. I’ll phone Will now.’
She had to hide a smile at this. She could imagine Will’s dismay.
He went on, ‘Stay in bed and I’ll either phone or call mid-morning. OK?’
‘OK,’ she agreed.
He kissed, her gently, then left.
She undressed, drank her tea, and got into bed. Her neck hurt, and it had been a full evening. But as she finally drifted into sleep, her last thoughts were of Christopher kissing her.
When she woke next morning her neck hurt quite
badly. She stayed in bed but there was no way she could lie there easily. She certainly had whiplash. When Christopher phoned she told him she still felt a little shaky, and that there was no way she could sit or stand for long in any position.
‘D’you want a neck brace?’ he asked.
She’d thought of that, but had decided that the pain of whiplash would be better than the irritation of the brace. ‘No, thanks,’ she said. ‘I can live with it.’
‘Good. I want to call in and see you, and then Mr Moreton would like a word. Are you up to seeing him later this morning?’
She agreed she was. First she made sure she burned the tapes, then she wandered around her room, picking up books and laying them down, making her bed and then sitting on it, brewing herself some tea and leaving it. She was waiting for Christopher to come.
‘I don’t have much time,’ he said when eventually he came. ‘I’d like to spend hours with you – but I just can’t. There’s two things I want to say. First, don’t mention to Moreton, or to the police, how you didn’t free Parks at once. You were shocked, not really aware of what you were doing. Secondly, the tapes. What have you done with them?’
‘Burned them,’ she told him.
‘Good. Don’t mention them either. I doubt very much that Parks will.’
‘Are you telling me to lie?’ she asked smilingly.
‘Certainly not. I’m suggesting that you don’t clutter up any statement with pointless detail. Always remember, you were shocked. So when Mr Moreton comes down, he’ll be quite happy.’
Mr Moreton came in, looking as worried as ever. However, when she’d told her story, he looked a little less worried.
‘You acted perfectly responsibly,’ he said, ‘and I could get out a press release that would damn Parks and make you look like what you are – the victim of an unprovoked attack. But I won’t unless you want me to. I think this will make him see that there’s nothing more to be gained by persecuting us. He’ll just disappear.’
‘The police may prosecute him for drunk driving,’ she pointed out.
‘Not very drunk, I gather: If they do he’ll plead guilty and there will be no story. I think I’ll give the inspector in charge a ring, and ask him what he intends to do. I’ll tell him that you’re willing to give evidence, but you’re not too keen.’
‘I want to do what’s right!’
‘Of course you do. But I don’t think you need to worry. Parks has brought about his own destruction.’
For the rest of the day she tried to study, but didn’t succeed. Each time she settled in one position, her neck and shoulders would start to hurt, first with a vague discomfort which was easy to ignore. But slowly the discomfort turned into a pain, and then the pain turned into agony, and she had to stand or stretch or move in some other way. She learned nothing and she grew wild with irritation. That night she phoned Christopher.
‘If I don’t work tomorrow, I’ll go mad,’ she said. ‘The only way I can get comfortable is if I keep moving.’
‘OK, you can work. But no more than a seven hour day, and I mean that! I’ll be checking up on you.’
‘I’ll be a good girl,’ she told him.
‘A good girl indeed. Do you still feel up to our trip on Sunday? Will you be well enough?’
‘But I ought to work! I’ve had time off today.’
‘Even doctors are entitled to be ill. You’re to take your Sunday off and spend it with me. OK?’
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
She had to get out. She took a taxi round to St Leonard’s Hospital and went up to see Charles. There had been no change. She sat with him for a while and then Jack Bentley came into the room.
‘You’re the best friend he has,’ Jack said, ‘or at least the one who comes most often. And he has no family.’
‘He used to live for his patients. He had no interests outside the hospital.’
‘Not a good way to be. Everyone needs something other than work. Would you like to see his case notes? You’re a doctor, and you’re as much family as he has.’
‘All right.’ It seemed a bit odd to be scanning the medical history of a man she had thought of as a friend, not a patient. There was something intrusive about reading the details of his blood pressure, his breathing, and so on. Jack pointed to a couple of readings on the printout.
‘These anomalies – not a good sign. I don’t think he’ll last much longer, Megan. I’m sorry.’
‘At least it’s a peaceful way to go,’ she said. It was a remark she’d heard too often before. It brought her no comfort at all.
Chapter Six
Megan started the day working with Sylvia again in a day clinic. As ever, she enjoyed the work, but her neck still hurt and she kept taking the pain killers.
A midwife usually did the first booking-in session with the mother, and if she thought there was no reason for concern she wouldn’t ask for a doctor’s opinion. But there were certain cases where mothers were referred to senior medical staff.
Megan and Sylvia looked at a mother who hadn’t put on weight, another whose baby was moving in a different pattern, and another who appeared to be suffering from a vaginal infection. Some were given prescriptions, some were asked if they could alter their lifestyles, and two were admitted to Mat. One at once.
This was a different kind of medicine from that practised on the wards and in the delivery suite. ‘You’ve got to know what the woman can do before you tell her what she’s got to do,’ Sylvia told her. ‘Often these women have other children, jobs they just daren’t lose. These are factors you have to take into account. Don’t prescribe three weeks’ bed rest to a single mother who has two children already.’
In the afternoon Will came onto the ward to look for some details for a form for a GP. He looked tired and glum as he entered the doctors’ room. ‘I had to do extra yesterday because you had the day off,’ he said. ‘We were told that you were injured.’
‘Sorry to put you out, Will,’ she said. ‘But next time I’ll swap with you. You have the day off with whiplash, and I’ll do your work.’
‘OK,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I know that you of all people wouldn’t take a day off without a good reason. I was happy to fill in for you.’
It works, she thought to herself. If you stand up for yourself, people respect you for it.
In the afternoon there was a phone call from the police inspector to say she could pick up her car from a nearby garage. It was damaged but drivable. ‘We’ve cautioned Mr Parks but we’re not going to prosecute him this time,’ the inspector said. ‘There wasn’t a vast amount of evidence. And we quite understand that you and the hospital want no publicity, but he is the kind of driver we’d like off the road.’
She wondered if she should have tried harder to have Parks prosecuted, perhaps even brought a civil case against him. It was all very difficult.
That night Jane drove her over to the garage where the car had been stored. As the inspector had said, it was damaged but drivable.
‘He certainly hit you a wallop,’ Jane said with some satisfaction. ‘He must have suffered plenty. Do you want me to ask around the club for a good repairer?’
Jane knew people like that. ‘I’d be pleased if you would,’ Megan said.
She had to return to her room in the hospital, for Christopher had made her promise not to move out, but she was getting heartily sick of it. She wanted her own bedroom back and the company of her two friends. She knew that this feeling of irritation was probably the result of delayed shock, but the knowledge didn’t make her feel any better.
So fed up was she that night that she considered phoning up Christopher, and asking him if he wanted to go for a drink. But then she looked out of her window, and parked there below was Maddy’s green Jaguar. So she didn’t phone, because he was obviously entertaining his ex-wife. She was surprised at how irritated she felt. After all, she and Christopher were only friends …
‘I saw Maddy’s car outside last night,’ she sa
id as they walked across to Christopher’s car on Sunday morning. ‘Did she call?’
Unperturbed, he said, ‘She dropped in a video of the show. In my old age I can watch my single success on the telly. When I’m not watching reruns of Casualty. Incidentally, Maddy collects useful people whom she thinks are photogenic. She thinks you would come over well on the small screen. She asked if some time in the future you might have a few words to say about medical training. They keep ideas in store for months at a time, but she said she was impressed by you. Apparently your sincerity comes across, and that’s important.’
‘That was kind of her,’ said Megan, feeling considerably warmer towards the woman. ‘Would you like me to be on TV?’
‘I think there are a lot of things that need to be said about medical training, and you might be a good person to get them across.’
He had phoned her quite early that morning to ask how she felt, how heir neck was. ‘I don’t want to drag you out if you’re in pain.’
‘I want to be out,’ she’d told him. ‘In fact, I need to be out.’
‘Good. I’m very much looking forward to it myself. I’m not going to stretch you too much, but wear a good pair of shoes, trousers and sweater, and bring a warm coat.’
‘My normal Sunday wear. Shall I make a flask of coffee? Sandwiches?’
‘No, we’ll eat out somewhere. I want people to look at me with you, and envy me.’
‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’
They were now in the car park. Autumn was now well established and the air was chilly, but there was a thin sun, and the forecast had been for bright weather. It was going to be a good day!
Megan noticed two nurses walking from the residence to the main hospital block. They looked at Christopher and then at Megan, the two of them obviously getting into Christopher’s car, and their heads bobbed together.
‘It’s on the grapevine. We’re an item,’ she said to Christopher. ‘Look, that pair can hardly wait to go and tell their friends they saw us going out for the day.’
‘Do you mind?’ he asked. ‘Have I been a bit thoughtless about your reputation?’
Lifting Suspicion Page 10
