Chapters (70)
- COVER PAGE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- DEDICATION
- PROLOGUE
- PART I BIRTH
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- PART II LIFE
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- PART III DEATH
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
‘Really, Jack,’ she says, her English accent, a hangover from her time in the UK, more pronounced than ever after a few wines, ‘whatever could you mean?’
‘These old terraces behind the hospital,’ he says, catching my eye, ‘they were all owned originally by the church.’
Now this possibly explains a few things.
‘So, this place would have definitely at some point housed a few of the sisters, back in the early days of the old hospital.’
‘Well, Kitty here is such a good Catholic girl,’ Wolfgang chimes in, grinning at me.
It all makes sense. After decades of enforced purity, number 19 is as repressed as I am! I’m as controlled by the hospital as the house was by the convent!
‘Let’s skol to this naughty little house,’ Wolfgang says, raising his glass. Everyone obliges with enthusiasm. SKOL!
I’ve stood next to these men in the operating theatre. I’ve watched them remain almost scarily calm under the most extraordinary amount of pressure. Men like this are so rare, I think. And they’re not thanked enough for the incredible, indescribable things that they do every single day. And here they are, throwing back schnapps with two young women who’ve assembled a table from Fantastic Furniture. I’ve experienced a lot of surreal moments in my life, but as I down another aquavit I think that this really might take the cake.
‘I have to head home,’ Jack says, putting down his glass. ‘I’m on call for the emergency list tomorrow afternoon, then it’ll be straight on the plane for the conference. Don’t forget we’re all going sailing next week!’
After a bottle of wine, he invited us all out on his yacht when he, Wolfgang and Tomas get back from their conference in Fiji.
I offer to walk him out, trying not to trip over my high heels.
We talk about sailing as we walk through the front garden and out to the street.
‘So, what do you even wear sailing?’ I keep asking, drunkenly fixating on the fact I own no suitable clothes.
As we stand beside his car, the hospital looms over us. I hardly notice. For once, the hospital is the furthest thing from my mind.
‘Should you really be driving home?’ I ask him. ‘I mean, we’ve had quite a bit to drink.’
‘I’ll take the back streets,’ he assures me, which for some reason I think is a completely reasonable solution.
‘Okay,’ I say.
We stand there under the streetlight, looking at each other.
‘Thanks for tonight,’ he says. ‘It was really something.’