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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

But then it got so bad I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I started fucking up in theatre. It wasn’t even just him; the other consultants were always calling me, the hours were horrendous, the hospital telling me off for being ‘uncontactable’ when I was just on the fucking toilet—I just can’t see a way through.

People tell us we have options, but that’s bullshit, Kitty. I can’t quit surgery and I can’t change my job and I’ll never win against them. I’ll never win. You must know that too. I don’t even know why I’m writing you this letter; it’s all pointless in the end anyway. I think I just wanted to explain why I behaved the way I did, and you were the only person who knew what was happening. And I wanted to say that I’m sorry. Maybe I wish you’d ignored my threat and had reported me to someone, but then I wouldn’t have been able to handle everyone knowing, and whispering, and the nurses looking at me like I was this huge dirty slut who was trying to sleep her way through surgical training, even though it was only because I don’t feel like I had any other choice.

I wish this mess hadn’t happened, I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m in this dark room with no windows and I can’t even see a crack of light, Kitty, not even one crack. The darkness is everywhere and I’m so lost, I’m so lost and I’m so alone. I’m walking around in circles inside a prison cell of black and I just want it to stop. I wish I could make it better and go back and make different choices and do it a second time, but I think I’ve finished my race and I’ve screwed it all up.

Maybe this isn’t the end, maybe it’s just the start of something else. Maybe the light is waiting for me somewhere else, and I just need to get on with it and go there and leave this all behind.

I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.

Rachel

A line from Tennyson, read to me by my mother long ago, floats through the aching fog in my brain. For some reason, it’s all I can think of.

We die—does it matter when?

Sink me the ship, Master Gunner—sink her, split her in twain

Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain!

FIFTY-SEVEN

fifty-seven