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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

‘The Smiling Assassin tried to kill herself,’ I tell her flatly, seeing no other way to put it.

Winnie opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything.

‘I know you told me I should tell someone. You were right.’

‘Oh, Kit,’ Winnie says, her face crumpling with sympathy. ‘I didn’t want to be right.’

‘Yeah, but you were.’

‘How is she?’

I shrug. ‘She’s in intensive care. Overdose.’

‘Shit.’ Winnie grimaces. ‘At least she’s still alive.’

‘You can say it,’ I tell her. ‘I fucked up.’

Winnie sits down next to me in the hallway, looking thoughtful. ‘No, you didn’t,’ she says, too kindly. ‘I don’t think anyone truly understands, me included, exactly what it’s like to be in that position.’

‘But you did.’ I can’t shake the guilt. Since when had I lost my empathy? When I started medical school, if someone have told me I’d be too afraid to report a potential sexual assault, or sexual coercion at the very least, I would have laughed in their face. Look at me now. The brave and powerful Dr Katarina Holliday.

‘It’s all just so extreme,’ Winnie points out. ‘Jack professes his love for you and nearly dies; she professes her hate for you and tries to kill herself; you’re constantly dreaming about dead bodies and having to look at dead people. Like, it’s fucking weird, man. When you take away all this medical bullshit and pretence, that’s exactly what all this is. It’s fucking WEIRD.’

To hear the words is a strange relief. It simplifies everything. Doctors are once-normal people who get stuck in totally fucking weird situations—and it makes us all crazy.

FORTY-EIGHT

forty-eight

I look at my watch, mesmerised by the second hand as it ticks onto 2 am. I rub my eyes. Just for something different, I’m sitting on the surgical ward, listening to my pager go off. I’m exhausted. All day and night my thoughts have been crowded with images of the Smiling Assassin’s face. It’s like she’s on the ward with me.

Please call the private hospital on 7806.

I read the message on my pager and wonder why the private hospital is calling me at two in the morning when I’m the intern covering the surgical wards at the public hospital. The private hospital is a painful ten-minute trudge up the road. It’s not that far, I guess, but the two hospitals exist as separate planets. The private is an otherworldly paradise, the garden of medical Eden, where the patients can choose a wine that matches their hospital dinner, and the doctors are paid huge amounts of money.

I dial the number, curiosity almost breaking through my exhaustion.

‘Hi, it’s Katarina Holliday,’ I say into the phone.

The nurse on the other end is breathless with relief. ‘Are you the surgical intern? At the public?’

‘Yeah.’