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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

‘That’s exactly why you need to invite Dr Prince for dinner!’ Winnie sounds more and more enthused by the idea. ‘Get a bit of the old Kitty Holliday back—the one who used to take on double black ski runs without thinking twice!’

‘This is Sydney, not Zermatt,’ I remind her.

‘God, Kitty! Stop thinking so much. Just send a fucking text!’

‘Fine,’ I say. Maybe the old me is lurking underneath the night shifts and the operating theatre and the doctor’s scrubs. Maybe the old Kitty never really left; she was just waiting for the right moment to reappear.

Hi, Dr Prince,

I type, schussing down the proverbial black diamond run in my mind.

Wolfgang and Tomas are coming over to my house for dinner Sat night, in just over three weeks. You’re very welcome to join us or come by for a drink, if you’re free. Would be great if you could make it. Katarina.

I press send and throw the phone at Winnie. ‘I did it,’ I announce. ‘I invited him.’

Winnie’s eyes widen. ‘You didn’t,’ she breathes. ‘You didn’t actually.’

‘What? You’re the one who told me to!’

We both start laughing uncontrollably.

‘Oh my God, what if he doesn’t reply?’ I moan, staring at my phone which has taken on the appearance of a ticking time bomb.

Winnie busies herself with formulating the menu, and valiantly tries to distract me.

My phone sits on the table, taunting me with its silence.

‘Do you think Italian?’ she says. ‘I make a really good lasagne.’

‘Mmm.’ I reach forward and put my phone under a cushion.

‘Maybe turn it off,’ Winnie suggests.

‘But then I’ll just have to turn it on again,’ I point out.

‘I reckon still turn it off.’ She reaches forward, about to press the off button when the phone pings. Winnie starts. ‘God,’ she says, ‘my heart is racing.’

We glance at each other.

‘It’s probably Mum,’ I say, trying to ignore the butterflies boxing in my stomach.

‘I can’t look!’ Winnie is staring at the phone. ‘You look!’

I turn the phone over to see a miracle.

Dr Prince.

‘Is it him?’ Winnie’s eyes are wide.

I nod. ‘He’s probably going to say no.’ I press open.

The phone takes an eternity.

Hi Katarina, That sounds great. Let me know when and where. Looking forward. Jack.

I look at Winnie. She looks at me.

‘Fuck, mate,’ she says, shaking her head in complete disbelief. ‘We really need to buy a dining table now.’

FORTY

forty