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Back Going Under Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  3. DEDICATION
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I BIRTH
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. PART II LIFE
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. PART III DEATH
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. THIRTY-EIGHT
  46. THIRTY-NINE
  47. FORTY
  48. FORTY-ONE
  49. FORTY-TWO
  50. FORTY-THREE
  51. FORTY-FOUR
  52. FORTY-FIVE
  53. FORTY-SIX
  54. FORTY-SEVEN
  55. FORTY-EIGHT
  56. FORTY-NINE
  57. FIFTY
  58. FIFTY-ONE
  59. FIFTY-TWO
  60. FIFTY-THREE
  61. FIFTY-FOUR
  62. FIFTY-FIVE
  63. FIFTY-SIX
  64. FIFTY-SEVEN
  65. FIFTY-EIGHT
  66. FIFTY-NINE
  67. SIXTY
  68. EPILOGUE
  69. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  70. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Max looks sorry for me. ‘Nah, he’s away, mate. I heard them talking about it in theatre the other day. There’s some big conference in New York or something.’

‘Great, so it’ll just be me and the Joker and the Smiling Assassin then.’

Everyone looks at me sympathetically.

Estelle stands up, yawning. ‘I’m buggered,’ she says. ‘I’m going to head off.’ She gives me a quick hug. ‘Glad to see you back, mate.’

The rest of us stand up too. Max and I walk home, and find Winnie smoking a cigarette out the front of number 19.

‘I know I said smoking is disgusting,’ she says, ‘but my boss is being a bastard and I really need to relax.’

‘Good to know even non-doctors have a shit go as well,’ Max tells her, taking the cigarette from her and having a long drag.

Winnie rolls her eyes. ‘I’m calling in sick tomorrow,’ she informs us. ‘You guys should try it sometime.’

THIRTY-TWO

thirty-two

The next morning, I take Winnie’s advice and, for the first time in my life, I call in sick.

‘Everyone needs a mental health day,’ Winnie says sensibly, having just called her own office to inform her boss that her chronic gastroenteritis has struck again. ‘I don’t know why you guys don’t do it more often.’

Winnie’s gastro and my viral upper respiratory tract infection (caught on the plane, I tell the Joker in a text) miraculously resolve after we spend an hour sitting on the couch together.

‘Do you want to go somewhere for lunch?’ Winnie asks.

‘Let’s go to the beach,’ I say. ‘It’ll be too cold to swim but we can paddle.’

We call a taxi and head to one of the beaches not far from number 19.

There, Winnie and I stretch out on the sand and sigh simultaneously. It’s one of those perfect crisp winter days. There’s no wind, and the sun feels surprisingly warm.

‘God, this is so much better than work,’ Winnie says.

‘Beats being yelled at in theatre,’ I agree.

‘I don’t get why doctors are so nasty to each other.’ Winnie shades her face with her hand. ‘It really makes me wonder, you know …’ She pauses.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘About my mum,’ she says. ‘I remember the team of doctors that used to see her. They came around every day, and I used to think how professional and great they all were.’

‘They probably were,’ I reassure her. ‘I think I’ve just hit a bit of bad luck with my seniors this year.’

Winnie looks over at me. ‘But think about all our other mates. Max spends all his time trying to fit in more research to get onto surgery even though he’s already written so many papers, and Estelle had that shit experience when you were out in the country.’

‘Well …’