by C F White
Hazel eyes focused in on him, but not for long. “It’s all right, Kez. Wait outside.”
Kez’s throat closed up, making it impossible to emit words. He couldn’t go against his superior’s demands, nor his best friend’s, especially if he wanted Callum to be checked over. He did a double take of both the doctor and Callum. Neither looked his way. Stone-cold blood rushed through his veins, reminding Kez of five years ago. The only thing he could do was the same as he had done back then. He yanked open the door, stepped out into the corridor and slammed it shut behind. Leaving Callum alone.
Lock. Bolt. Throw away the key…
What the fuck was that about?
Chapter Eight
Time and Place
“Does Kwesi know?”
The doctor’s deep and penetrating voice, along with the loaded question, caused an unexpected quickening of Callum’s pulse. The doctor would feel it and no doubt hear it when he put that blasted stethoscope on his skin. All Callum had was his mouth to get him out of this one.
“Does he know what?” Insolence. Works every time. People didn’t expect any better of a bloke from a broken home on a rough East London council estate and with ex-con status to complete the package.
Rawlings stepped back, staring down at Callum in menacing threat. Callum shuddered.
“Are we pretending we both don’t know who each other is?”
Callum shrugged. “Might be better to do that, right?”
“Did you know before you came here?”
“No.”
“So this is a complete coincidence?”
“It would seem that way, yeah.”
“All I have is the benefit of the doubt here.”
Callum looked away. The memories were painful as it was and now he had them staring him in the face. It hadn’t been his finest moment. Callum wondered if he’d even had any. A long time back. Before everything that had led him away from Kez. He sighed and faced the doctor.
“I wouldn’t ever tell Kez, ever, if that helps clear this up quick and proper.” He sniffed, then coughed, his throat scratching through the force. “I’m here ’cause he made me and I’ve always had a hard time sayin’ no to the fella.” Ain’t that the truth. “Secret’s safe with me, ’cause it’s mine to keep too, yeah? I wouldn’t want him finding out how you might recognise me.”
Rawlings watched him from above, as though he was trying to hear the words that Callum hadn’t said. Is he trying to figure out if this is all a set-up, too? Was he trying to figure out if Callum was there to blackmail him or threaten to tell his work colleagues what the doctor liked to do in his limited spare time? Cogs began to wheel around in Callum’s mind. He couldn’t, though. Could I?
“Let’s just get this over with,” Callum suggested, because he couldn’t want anything more than that right then. “So we can both skip off and pretend this ain’t as awkward as fuck, yeah?”
With a deep sigh, Rawlings agreed via actions. He flipped his stethoscope from around his neck and attached the prongs in his ears. He pointed to Callum’s shirt. “Unbutton it.”
“Thought we weren’t going to relive it.” Callum couldn’t resist. He winked, sliding his tongue along his top lip. There was something uplifting about having one over on a doctor. Callum’s mere presence was wreaking havoc on a man who ruled this hospital wing. And that was a shift in paradigms that Callum was all in favour for. It didn’t happen often. So Callum clung on with both hands.
“You can die within three days from smoke inhalation.” Rawlings delivery was deadpan. “Are we on day two?”
Aaand down to earth with a firm smack to the mouth. Back at the bottom of the pecking order, Callum unbuttoned his shirt and tugged the denim away to reveal his bare torso. Rawlings’ gaze settled on his chest. Or, more accurately, the metal bolt that sliced through his left nipple. The bloke was a heart doctor, so the gaze could have been instinctive to trail to that part of Callum’s anatomy but the sudden lick of his lips suggested otherwise.
“Are you feeling any pain? Fever? Coughing?” the doctor asked, his voice low. Clearing his throat, he squared his shoulders.
“Coughing, yeah. Chest feels a bit tight. This morning I was hot.” He arched an eyebrow. “But that’s certainly gone now.”
Rawlings pursed his lips. Callum couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh. Firmly back in doctor mode, Rawlings lowered into the swivel chair and wheeled it forward to get in front of Callum. Placing the disc to Callum’s chest, he listened and Callum jerked at the chilling temperature of the metal, not to mention the close proximity of the doctor. It made him nervous. Not in a good way, but in a way that spelled trouble. As though he was already too close.
The doctor listened, moving the disk across his chest. “Inhale.”
Callum did.
“Exhale.”
Callum did.
Rawlings then shone a light in his eye, jerking his face this way and that. It felt like the medicals Callum’d had to undergo when inside and the checking-in parade where he had to leave his dignity and privacy at the entrance gates. Lucky the doctor didn’t do a strip search, even if the man seemed like he might want to. He was none-too-light on his face pulling either. Wheeling himself away, Dr. Rawlings slapped his hands to his thighs and stared at Callum.
“What’s my outlook, doc? Bleak?” Callum left his shirt open, waiting for instructions. Like when we last met.
“I’d hazard a yes.” Rawlings flipped the stethoscope around his neck. “But I doubt it will be to do with the smoke. You don’t appear to have a noticeable blockage. I’d say your body is acting accordingly to deal with any intrusion. A couple of days, you should be fine. However, I’ve only done an external examination. I should advise you, as a medical professional, to seek out a blood test and further exploratory investigation just to make sure. If you were in the building for as little as ten minutes, deadly smoke can still get into your bloodstream. What floor were you on?”
“Five.” Callum focused on doing up his shirt buttons.
“The fire started on four.”
“Apparently.”
“Then I would urge you to your nearest A&E. I cannot perform those tests here.”
Fastening the last button, Callum shrugged. “Cheers, doc. I’ll keep your concern in mind.” He stood. “Are we done?”
The doctor stared at him again, his dark eyes penetrating Callum’s thick armour.
“Do you go there often?”
Callum belted out a laugh and had to check on the door, hoping it wasn’t open and Kez had heard the outburst.
“No. Not often.” He turned back to the doctor, face serious. “Like anything, I only do stupid stuff when I need cash. So if you’re asking when I’m next going, I’m hoping I won’t have to again.”
The doctor stood. “That wasn’t why I was asking. It was out of concern. As your apparent ad hoc medical advisor but also as a friend to one of my staff, I want to know that you frequent and partake there because you want to. That it is a choice. And not something that is forced upon you.”
“Why? Would it make you lose your stiffy knowing that us fellas you perv over don’t actually like doing those things you make us? ’Cause, sorry, Doc, but most of them are only there for the handouts. That place is a goldmine for dealing.” Callum swallowed. It had been how he had discovered the place, after all. When he’d thought he could make a quick sale from his mother’s leftover stash. He hadn’t gone through with it. He’d chucked that shit down the toilet and discovered the backroom had offered him far more in returns. “Me? I did what you told me ’cause I was desperate. I don’t plan to be again. But we’ll just pretend we don’t know what each other is, eh?”
“You have no idea who, or what, I am.”
“A sad, desperate loner who gets off on being in control?” Callum raised his eyebrows. “You love to watch. You love to make blokes do as you say. You love to tease, to tempt, to tip fellas to the edge of their free will. And you live for that ultimate superior
ity because you don’t get it here.”
The doctor baulked.
“Yeah. I know blokes like you.” Callum gave a firm nod, then marched toward the door. He’d come into contact with many a psycho and many narcissistic sociopaths. Most of them had been on the inside. And they, too, preyed on those most vulnerable to their seductions. Callum was only vulnerable to his own stupid actions. Not anymore.
As he yanked open the door, he narrowed his eyes when Kez, startled, leaped from against the wall. He couldn’t have heard any of that awkward conversation back there, could he? Don’t acknowledge it. There was no way he could tell Kez. No way in hell. Regardless of what the doctor might think. Although…the doctor didn’t have to know that he’d never explain to Kez how he’d coped on no money, did he? Oily cogs squeaked in Callum’s jumbled mind.
“What happened?” Kez asked, eyes so wide the white outdid the brown.
“I’m all good.” He smiled. Genuinely. Because he might have just found a way to solve all this crap. He might not have to run after all. And it was only a little white lie this time. No one would get hurt. No one who mattered, anyway.
Clomping up the corridor, Callum shoved his hands into his pockets and whistled. Kez caught up to him and grabbed his elbow to shove him around.
“And what was all that in there?”
“What?” Callum played dumb because he could always get away with it.
“Don’t fuck with me.” Kez narrowed his eyes. “You chucked me out. What are you hiding?”
All right, he could get away with it with anyone else but Kez. He’d forgotten that. With him, he had to use a different set of skills. He hoped to God that they still worked on him. It had been a long time since he had to resort to them. He hadn’t been able to get away with all that shit in the slammer. If he could have, he’d have had that extra blanket he asked for each night.
Sliding a hand up Kez’s back, he stroked in small circles and enlarged his eyes to doe-like levels. Pushing it? Maybe. “I’m sorry, Kez. I didn’t know what was for best. What if he’d had to tell me I had, like, an hour left to live? I think I’d like to tell you that news myself.” He tried with a smile. “Break it to you gently.”
The muscles beneath Callum’s hand eased from the tension. Triumph.
“He’s right, ain’t he?” Callum nudged his head toward the closed door of Rawlings’ office. “Confidentiality and all that. Was nice enough of him to check me over at all, innit?”
“I suppose.” Kez didn’t sound too convinced.
Callum slipped a hand on Kez’s shoulder and leaned in toward him. “I’m all good. I’m okay. Looks like I got off lightly. Bit clogged up, but it’s working its way out my system. Thanks, mate, for even caring enough to get me here. For even bothering to come get me in the first place. I appreciate it. Especially after everything.”
Kez bit down on his bottom lip and Callum could almost taste the flesh between his teeth. And by fuck he wanted to. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. On either of them. All he could do was try to salvage their friendship at least.
“Listen, bruv. How about I head back to yours?” Callum suggested before talking himself out of it. “We can put those pizzas on you bought and have a proper chat tonight? Clear all this air between us as well as my lungs?”
Kez almost beamed in front of him. “Yeah. Yeah, all right. I’d like that. I’ve got to go see Eve after work, find out what’s going on with the rehousing, but I’ll be home by eight? Go get some rest or something?” Kez’s fingers trembled as he handed over a key.
Callum noticed, but he wouldn’t let on. There was too much awkward air between them as it was. He could tell Kez feared what would happen should Callum take up that offer of access to his home with full merit. The last time hadn’t fared too well for either of them. But Callum was a changed man. The fire had changed him. He gripped the metal hanging on a silver keychain, squeezing Kez’s fingertips and hoping to convey the trust through touch alone. He knew it wouldn’t. He knew it would take more than a cheeky glint in his eye and a promise of pizza to regain Kez’s trust.
But Callum had now found a way out of his mess, and once that was sorted maybe he could tell Kez everything and start over. Maybe pick up where they’d left off?
Yeah, right. You can’t compete with a fucking doctor! Medical or otherwise.
* * * *
“I’m sorry, Ms. Marsh, but the doctor isn’t available to take your call today… Yes, yes, I completely understand…” Kez scraped the tip of his pen across his forehead as he clutched the office phone between his chin and shoulder. He checked on the time and the urge to cut the call was overwhelming. “She hasn’t slept? At all? As in nothing?” He listened to the irate and frantic mother on the other end and knew he couldn’t shrug her off. Nor could he put her through to the doctor as he was doing his last rounds on the ward. But the time was ticking to five p.m., clinic closure, and although it wasn’t a hot date waiting for him at the end of today, he was still antsy to get home.
“A few hours constitutes sleep, Ms. Marsh—I know it might not seem that way to you which is why Dr. Rawlings suggested the sleep diary for her, which I have here. You emailed it last night and your daughter slept four hours—” The squeal from the other end made Kez drop the phone from his shoulder.
Lisa peeped over the border and mouthed something at him. He nodded, confirming he could handle it. This wasn’t the first panic-stricken mother calling up after her child had been sent home from the hospital following heart surgery. He scrabbled for the phone receiver and held it to his ear this time. She was still talking. Babbling really. And the sobs had started.
“Ms. Marsh, I will ensure the doctor calls you first thing tomorrow when he’s back in clinic.” That also wasn’t the first time he’d said something so bold without knowing if it could be done. Rawlings had a ton of calls to make in the morning. “Sleep is one of the hardest things after heart surgery. Keep her comfortable and ride it out. Of course, if there are any physical signs of deterioration in her health then please take her to your nearest A&E who will call on Dr. Rawlings should he be required.”
Kez glanced at the clock above Lisa’s head. It was ticking by faster than ever now. He still needed to visit his aunt and ensure she was okay before getting home. To Callum. His heart leapt at the thought. But he was determined to. He had to clear the air. Having Callum back in his life for the mere twenty-four hours he’d had confirmed that he had to fix what had gone wrong between them. He had to help him. He had to forgive. Callum and himself.
“Yes, she has a check-up here in three months and that will be with Dr. Rawlings unless he is called away, in which case Dr. Khan is up to speed on all Rawlings’ patients. Any questions, please bring them to clinic. For medical prescriptions, your GP should be able to prescribe these as I sent the letter to your GP surgery with Dr. Rawlings’ consent.”
The mother seemed calmer, less sniffling anyhow. Sometimes Kez’s voice on the other end of a telephone could do that. Firm but empathetic was how he had to deal with those who called in. When he’d first been on the job, the mere hint of a cry and Kez had been bleeping the doctor out of surgery to take a call. Dr. Rawlings hadn’t taken too kindly to being called mid-open-heart to answer a question about a child’s faeces’ colour. So Kez had learned to deal with the most of it himself. He was the barrier between patient and consultant. And he took it seriously. As long as he gave the advice that any medical problems were to be dealt with at A&E, then his back was covered. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the right thing to do. Rawlings’ patient load was his current lot. Anyone discharged were back to their local hospital and GP service. Such was how things worked. Dr. Rawlings never wanted to be disturbed for anything other than complete emergencies. And Kez never wanted to be on the receiving end of Rawlings’ wrath.
As Kez hung up, he caught Lisa’s gape over the barrier. “What?”
Lisa nodded toward the door. Kez span and there was Rawlings,
slipping on his fitted blazer and with his tie firmly knotted.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Ms. Marsh. Penelope Marsh’s mother. Had surgery last month. Discharged within five days. She’s not sleeping.”
“The mother or the child?”
“I’d hazard a guess that it’s both.”
“Indeed. Give me the number. I’ll call her on the way home.”
Kez twisted back around in his seat, exchanging a brief look of surprise over the barrier at Lisa. Rawlings never normally hung around after surgery rounds. He never normally offered to call a discharged patient over something so trivial. In fact, he never normally asked who had called in at all. Kez wrote down the number from the file onto a sticky note, stood and handed it over.
“Thank you.” Dr. Rawlings pocketed the note, hovering at the door.
“Anything else, Doctor?” Please do not give me more work! was what he actually wanted to say. But he needed this job.
“Are you heading out?”
“Erm…yes. Just logging off now.”
“Good. I’ll wait.”
Surprised, Kez fumbled through his daily ritual of locking the filing cabinets and switching his PC off. Something done so effortlessly of a five p.m. most nights, but with the doctor lingering over him and waiting for him brought forth the bumbling fool he hadn’t been in a long while. What could the man possibly want that couldn’t be discussed in the office in front of Lisa? Callum. Shit. This had to be where he was reprimanded for having wasted Rawlings’ precious time. Maybe there was a policy that forbade private use of NHS staff and Kez was about to find himself in one of those disciplinary meetings.
“Night, Lisa.” Kez offered an awkward wave to his supervisor, ignoring the silent plea from her to explain what the hell was going on. If only he could.
If he had a scooby.
Once out in the corridor, Kez checked his phone for any incoming messages which gave him both distraction from his companion and to see if any news had come through about his aunt’s building.
