When we reach the fourth patient, I comment that his blood pressure has been a little on the low side. She nods.

‘I have to go to theatre,’ she says suddenly, looking me in the eye for the first time. ‘You can finish the round without me.’

‘Ah …’ I think of some of the really sick patients that we haven’t seen yet, like Mr Trajevski in bed 9, who has had a huge tumour removed and has only just come out of intensive care.

Then I remember what her face looked like after our unexpected encounter last night and nod. ‘No worries,’ I say. ‘I’ll let you know if there are any issues.’

By the time I’ve seen the rest of my list, I pity the Smiling Assassin so much it makes me feel incredibly depressed. It was a lot easier to hate her, I realise as I order a CT scan for Mr Trajevski. I like giving blow jobs to men I’m wildly attracted to, but I firmly believe the act should be enjoyable for both parties. To fellate someone as revolting as the Joker surely isn’t worth it, not even for a good reference. Especially not for a good reference, I correct myself.

I walk down to the cafeteria for a break, feeling incredibly tired. I can’t wait until the year ends. Maybe I can request a transfer to a new hospital, or something.

‘Hey!’ I look up from my coffee to see Max walking towards me.

‘Hey.’

I don’t know whether to tell Max what happened last night with Estelle and then the Smiling Assassin. I have a feeling these are things that shouldn’t be shared lightly. Luckily, Max is starting nights, which means we won’t see much of each other. Usually when he works weird hours he spends half the time at his mum’s place; his room there is darker, which makes it easier to sleep in during daylight hours.

‘You left early this morning,’ he says, plonking down next to me. ‘That desperate to get to work after your sick day, huh?’

‘Something like that,’ I agree.

‘I didn’t get home until pretty late last night.’ Max takes the lid off his coffee and scoops up the foam with his finger. ‘I was helping Dr Glass in theatre. I reckon he’ll give me a good reference.’

‘That’s good.’ I try to sound enthusiastic.

Max doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, he seems distracted himself. Probably the stress of surgical applications.

‘Estelle wants to meet up with me and the Godfather after work,’ he says after a pause. ‘Said she has something to tell us. You know she’s taken a few days off work?’

I’m momentarily relieved. A problem shared is a problem halved, or quartered.

‘Estelle’s in the shit,’ I tell him. ‘I’d better let her tell you in person.’