by Imogen Wells
I walk towards the desk, taking a seat, and then I tell him about my conversation with Dana and my boss. When I’m done, he doesn’t say anything for several minutes.
“Okay. Let’s get you home and then to the hospital. We can’t do anything more until we know what exactly is going on.” I give him a nod as I literally can’t speak right now. Rick leads me from the room, and once I’ve collected my stuff, he drives me home.
I’m not normally so easily flustered but there’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me I’m not going to like whatever this is. Rick waits downstairs while I get cleaned up, and then he drives me to the hospital despite my protests.
When we arrive, he tells me he’ll wait for me, but I tell him that I’ll be fine. He doesn’t seem happy, but after several minutes of arguing, I convince him to leave with a promise to call him later.
I wait till Rick is out of sight before turning towards the front entrance of the hospital. That feeling in my gut has grown exponentially and is now a writhing mass of worry. Taking another deep breath, I step through the doors.
When I arrive at Alison’s office, I can see someone else in there with her, but I don’t know who they are. I knock the door, opening it when she calls out to come in.
“Ah, Jamie, you’re here. Please come in, take a seat.” She gestures to the empty chair, and as I move forward, she turns to the man occupying the other seat. “This is Roger Ashdown, he’s the senior manager of the Emergency Department.” Roger rises from his seat, stretching out a hand for me to shake before we take our seats.
“I’m sorry, Alison, but what exactly is this about?” Alison and Roger exchange a look, then Alison shuffles in her chair, clearly uncomfortable with whatever she is about to say. Resting her clasped hands on the desk in front of her, she finally faces me.
“First, let me ask you, is there is anything you’d like to tell me or perhaps talk about?”
I frown. “No, nothing.” I look between her and Roger. “Please, just tell me what’s happened.”
“It would be to your benefit if you were to be honest.” She looks at me as if expecting me to suddenly confess to murder or something else equally ridiculous. When I don’t offer an answer she continues, “Very well. It has come to my attention that you may have been intoxicated whilst working. And as this is a serious allegation, we were within our rights to conduct a search of your locker.”
“Hold on a second. Are you suggesting I’ve been— What exactly?” I’m so stunned, despite this being what I feared since she called me.
“We’ve been led to believe that you have been under the influence of drugs and alcohol whilst at work.”
Her words hit me like a wrecking ball. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I baulk in disbelief. I knew this was coming, but it doesn’t lessen my surprise. Especially, the fact that Alison could believe I would do something like that.
“I’m afraid that I am not kidding, Jamie. I wish that were true, but unfortunately it is not. As I said, we conducted a search of your locker whereupon we discovered several empty bottles of alcohol and a small bag containing what we believe to be cocaine. As a result, we have no option but to suspend you with immediate effect until such time as our investigation has been concluded. You will be paid in full during the suspension period, but you are required to refrain from entering the hospital for any other reason than to seek medical attention.”
Alison continues talking, but I don’t hear another word of what she’s saying. This can’t be happening. Why the fuck is this happening? The shock is slowly replaced by outrage.
“This is bullshit!” I blurt out, leaping from my seat. “Alison, you can’t possibly believe any of this is true. I don’t understand. Whatever you found in my locker is not mine.” My brain scrambles for an explanation. And then I remember my locker got broken into, the mugging and my bag being stolen. “My locker was broken into and my bag was stolen with my new locker key. There has to be another explanation, Alison.” I look to her then to Roger. Neither of them say a word.
“I understand you may be upset, Jamie, but the evidence speaks for itself. You will—”
“No. I don’t think you do understand. I don’t do drugs, and I’d never jeopardise my job or a patient’s health by coming to work drunk. This is wrong.” I begin pacing the small office.
There’s a knock on the door, and when it opens, there are two security guards standing in the hall. I turn to Alison, who is now standing behind her desk with a look of pity on her face. Pity. Fuck that.
“I’ll need your hospital ID please. Security will take you to collect any belongings that have been cleared for you and then escort you from the premises. We will be in touch following the conclusion of the investigation. I’m very sorry, Jamie.”
I yank my lanyard over my head, slapping it into Alison’s open palm before storming from the room.
I feel completely defeated. My job was the only good thing in my fucked-up life right now. The only thing keeping me from falling down the rabbit hole. Without it, and the possibility of a stain on my career, it’s enough to push me over the last line of sanity.
I allow the guards to escort me to the locker room, where I find my belongings already in a box. I pick the box up and follow them through the hospital and out the front doors. It’s like the worst walk of shame in the history of walk of shames.
As I stand on the pavement with the tatters of my career in a box, the heavens open and rain falls in sheets that mirror my tears as they track down my cheeks.
Nineteen
Jamie
“Hey, Tommy. Gimme another Red Headed Slut.” I shriek out a laugh. “Best damn drink in the house for the best slut in the city. Whadya say, Tommy.” He leans across the bar. “Woah, there mister. Don’t you bat for the other side?” I think he laughs, but I’m not sure. The music is so loud, and everything looks a little blurry.
“Jamie, I’m cutting you off,” Tommy shouts to me.
“Awww, shit. I didn’t mean anything by it. Come on, I’ll let you kiss me, if you really want to.”
Now he does laugh. “That’s not what I meant, girl. I can’t serve you anymore is all. You need to go home and sleep it off.”
“Screw sleep. Who needs sleep? That’s what you do when you’re dead, right? I want to party.” I spin around, raising my arms in the air. Waving them like I just don’t care. I let out another shriek of laughter as I realise that’s part of a song I’ve danced to a time or two. I close my eyes as I spin, getting lost in the music and memories of a time when life was simple.
I suddenly stop spinning, and as I open my eyes, I’m met by beautiful hazel-coloured ones. They’re not the ones that fill my dreams. No, those are caramel with flecks of gold when he’s turned on or angry. I know these ones though. These belong to my friend and occasional bed buddy, Alex.
“Alexxxx. You’re looking mighty fine tonight. Come and dance with me.” I try to grab his hand and lead him to the dance floor, but he holds me back.
“Not tonight, Jamie. I think it’s time we get you home, hey?” He puts his arm around my waist and turns me away from the bar.
“Hey, hold on I didn’t get my Red Headed Slut. They’re good you know. Red Headed Sluts are the best. That’s what she said.” I laugh so hard I almost fall over, but Alex holds me up.
As we get outside and the fresh night air hits me, the world starts to spin. I hear Alex talking to someone, but I’m too busy trying not to throw up and stay on my feet to take any notice of who.
Then we’re moving again before I’m lifted into the back of a car. I must have dozed off because when I wake again, I’m being carried inside. My head hits something soft, and I feel tugging on my feet, but my eyes refuse to open.
“Jamie. There’s a bottle of water here and a bowl on the floor next to the bed in case you need to be sick. I’ll lock the door and drop the keys through the letterbox, okay?”
“Alex.”
“Yeah. What is it?”
&n
bsp; “Don’t go. Stay with me, please. I don’t want to be alone.”
I hear him sigh, and then the bed dips and the sound of shoes hitting the floor before strong arms wrap round me from behind. I nestle into his hold, relaxing as I drop off to sleep.
I wake alone with the partial memory of Alex holding me as I slept. When I drag myself from my bed to the kitchen, I find a note, along with a still warm cup of tea.
Jamie,
Drink the tea, and for the love of god, please eat something before you waste away. Call me if you need anything.
Alex xx
I drink the tea, forget the food as my stomach feels like it might reject anything solid right now and go shower. That’s about all I can manage for now.
I dress in a worn pair of joggers and a hoodie, then plonk myself in front of the TV for several mind-numbing hours.
I’m in the kitchen making another cup of tea, when I realise that I never thanked Alex for last night. I look around the kitchen wondering what I did with my phone last night. I’m pretty sure I had my bag when Alex brought me home, so I trudge upstairs, assuming he must have put it in my room.
As I stand in the doorway to my room, I notice what a mess it is. Clothes strewn all over the floor, and the sick bowl is still where Alex left it last night. I thank the stars I didn’t use it as it lies on its side, clearly knocked over as I tumbled from bed this morning.
Not seeing my bag anywhere, I begin gathering up the dirty clothes into a pile by the door ready to throw in the washing machine. Once the room is clear of clothes, I stand in the middle and scratch my head like Stan Laurel when there’s still no sign of my bag. Maybe Alex put it down near the front door. You know, having to carry a blind drunk friend to bed requires two hands. I’m the worst friend. And I vow to myself to be a better friend, starting with a message to Alex apologising, followed rapidly by a thank you for taking care of me.
I make quick work of making my bed before bending down to pick up the bowl, when a vibrating sound comes from the bedside table. Looking up, I find my phone, but no bag. The screen is lit up as Rick’s name flashes across it. As the call rings off, I see the dozen other messages and calls I’ve missed. Okay, ignored. I shove the phone in my pocket, pick everything up and head back downstairs.
One load of washing on, I pull out my phone and send a message to Alex. Feeling somewhat better, I begin making something to eat.
My toast pops up, and I jump, dropping the plate I was carrying. It crashes to the ground, breaking clean in half. Bending down, I begin picking up the pieces and manage to slice my finger as I’m putting it in the bin.
“Shit!” I exclaim as a couple of spots of blood drip to the floor.
I’m just putting everything back in the first aid kit, when there’s a knock at the door.
The knock sounds again, followed by someone calling out and asking if I’m okay. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I tiptoe to the door.
I step up and peek through the spyhole to see Jasper standing there. “Shit.”
“Jamie. Jamie, are you okay? Open the door.” I take a step back as all the possible scenarios of opening the door tumble through my mind.
I don’t know for sure if Jasper had anything to do with the pictures sent to me, but the fact he’s friends with Noah is warning enough that there’s something not right about the whole thing. Neither of us mentioned we knew each other, in fact Noah acted as if we’d never met, but the wink he gave me when Jasper wasn’t looking was enough for me to know he remembered me.
Another knock.
Another call of my name.
Make your mind up, Jamie. Open the door and pretend everything is okay with the possibility of getting answers or fob him off and hope that’s the end of it?
Tick. Tick. I tap my foot on the floor, and I’m not sure what the over-riding emotion is, but curiosity wins out.
Stepping forward, I open the door.
“Detective Williams.” I plaster a wide smile on my face. Jasper scowls, scanning me from head to toe, obviously checking I’m okay.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pointing to the plaster wrapped around my finger and raising a foot as though to step forward before changing his mind.
“Oh, that. Yeah, I dropped a plate, that’s all,” I tell him, pointing a thumb over my shoulder. “What can I do for you?” I try to keep my voice friendly, but an ounce of suspicion bleeds into my words.
“Okay. Well, I came to return this to you.” He holds up a clear plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed before now. Inside is a bag that looks identical to my one that was stolen.
“How do you know it’s mine?”
“When forensics dusted it for prints, yours were the only match.” I detect a hint of disappointment in his tone.
“I see. Well, thank you. Does this mean you caught whoever stole it?” I ask hopefully.
“Unfortunately, no.” I take the proffered bag from his hand as he holds it out to me. “We found it in the next car park over from the hospital. There were no personal effects in the bag when it was retrieved. As I said before, it’s unlikely the person will be caught given there isn’t much to go on,” he says, apologetically.
“Okay, well, thanks. I guess a mugging is low down on the list of crimes to solve?”
“I guess I deserved that.” I raise a brow in a ‘you think’ kind of way. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I was having a shitty day, and I know that’s no excuse, you just caught me at a bad time.”
Feeling like I need to give him something if I have any chance of finding out what is going on, I say, “Yeah, well I owe you an apology too. So, I’m sorry.” The words almost stick in my mouth, but I get them out and hope they sound sincere. “How about we just forget about it and move on.”
Jasper nods. “Any chance you’ll let me take you out for a drink to make up for it. I know what you said, but how about a drink just as friends.” He dips his head, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Please.”
I can’t help smiling back at him. Despite the connection between Noah and Jasper, do I really believe he had anything to do with sending those pictures? I’d like to think not. He’s a cop after all, and that’s got to count for something, right? Guess there’s only one way to find out for sure. Hoping this whole thing is one big coincidence, I agree.
“Sure. But I get to pick the place.”
“Done. If you’re free, how about tonight?”
I’m not sure my liver will thank me, but I agree. Jasper offers to pick me up, which I agree to, and when he asks where we are going, I tell him Rosco’s. At least this way, it’s a place I feel comfortable and people know me. Assuming I’m not barred after last night. Whoops. Nah, Tommy will be cool. I’ll pick him out a nice guy for the night.
We say goodbye, and as I watch Jasper get in his car and pull away, my eyes catch sight of a familiar car across the road. He climbs from the car, and I’m pissed that my heart instantly thumps loudly in my ears at the sight of him.
Dressed in a pair of distressed jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt that shows a smattering of light chest hair against his bronze skin. My mouth literally waters as he strides across the road towards me.
As he reaches me, I see the scowl on his face and his nostrils flare. I fold my arms across my chest, telling myself it’s because I’m pissed and nothing to do with my erect nipples. Stupid body gives me away every damn time he gets near me.
“What do you want?” He doesn’t stop advancing on me, and I have to step back to stop him from crashing into me. “Seb. What the hell?” I say, as his hands latch onto my hips and force me inside.
“What was he doing here?” he bites out.
I drop my arms down, breaking his grip on me as I stand there for second before turning and walking away unable to deal with the conflicting emotions waring inside me. He marches down the hall after me. Ranting about how I need to stay away from him and what was I thinking. Blah, blah.
Keeping my back to him, I pick up the first
aid kit and place it back in the cupboard as he continues to hammer me with questions and accusations. Suddenly, he stops talking and I turn to face him. He’s standing in the middle of my kitchen, looking down at the spots of blood on the floor.
In an instant, he has my face gripped in his hands, eyes searching my face and looking me up and down for any sign of an injury. I bring my hands up to rest on his wrists, trying to pry them away. The touch of his skin on mine sends my body and mind into a spin. His gaze is so intense it makes my bones itch with the fire he ignites in me.
“What happened? Why is there blood on the floor? Jamie talk to me.”
Only I can’t. The words won’t come while his hands are on me. While he’s looking at me like the very thought of me being hurt, hurts him too. I go to speak but the words stutter out as I see the flash of gold in his eyes. He rubs his thumbs across my cheeks.
“I…er…it’s nothing.” I try to drop his gaze, but he holds my head in place. I swallow thickly. “I dropped a plate and cut my hand while I was clearing it up, that’s all.” I see the relief at my words, and his hold relaxes a fraction when he realises that I’m telling the truth.
Time seems to stand still as we stay looking into each other’s eyes. Then just as quick, the moment is broken.
“What was he doing here, Jamie?” He keeps his voice low, but the underlying tone is loud.
Anger flares inside me again. “None of your business, Seb.” My words are slow and gritted out between clenched teeth. I rip his hands away from my face, turning away from him. “You made your feelings perfectly clear the other night, so please, unless you have a reason to be here, I’d like for you to leave.”
“You’re wrong.” My heart stutters a beat as I think I was right about what I saw the other night. “Rick sent me.” And those three words fracture any illusions, any hopes, I had.
