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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

‘What about Dr Lang the hot heart surgeon?’ he asks. ‘Have you sent him any more nudies?’

I hit him. ‘I have not sent Dr Lang any more nudes. I think I only fancied him because he looks like an older surgeon version of Fabien anyway,’ I confess.

Max reaches for my phone. ‘I’m sure we can fix this.’

‘Fuck off!’ I yell.

‘Jokes, mate!’ Max yells back, a huge grin cracking his face. ‘Watch out—you’ll give yourself a heart attack and I’ll have to operate on you!’

Max looks at me. I look at him. Then we laugh and laugh and laugh, and I feel better than I have in a very, very long time.

Con the Greek comes over carrying two glasses of wine.

‘We didn’t order more wine,’ I say, trying to catch my breath as Max wipes tears from his eyes.

Con shakes his head. ‘On the house.’

‘What? But you’re always saying the business is going broke!’

Con glares at me. ‘It is.’

‘So we’ll pay,’ Max exclaims, pulling out his wallet. He nudges me. ‘I’ve got no money. Kitty, you pay.’

‘Fuck off! I always pay!’

‘No pay,’ Con says firmly. ‘This is the first time I’ve seen you two laughing together in a long fucking time. Doctors need more wine, and less work.’

‘And more money,’ Max says, gratefully accepting his glass.

‘You don’t need money in Kythira,’ Con says happily, sitting on the stool next to us. ‘In paradise, anything is possible.’

‘We’ve just been in hell,’ Max informs him.

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but to paradise it’s rocky and narrow and difficult.

I don’t know where I’ll end up; my penchant for kissing married men then nearly killing them probably means I’ve got my own special seat reserved in hell, but I feel like I’ve been trudging up the narrow road for years.

Maybe this time, I think, listening to Max and Con argue cheerfully about who’s more broke, my paradise is here, and now.

Mum’s voice reverberates through my mind again: year ten English, Milton’s Paradise Lost.

Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.

FIFTY-NINE

fifty-nine

Two weeks later, I sit anxiously on the ward staring at my phone. The Joker has called in sick at the last minute, which isn’t a surprise. Since the truth came out he’s been calling in sick nearly once a week. According to the rumours he’s either getting promoted or fired, so maybe he’s making the most of his sick leave just in case. Regardless, the theatre list is cancelled so I retreat to the safety of the ward.