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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

Chin up, I tell myself. It isn’t the end of the world, missing one operation. I try not to imagine what the Smiling Assassin has told Dr Prince about my non-appearance. I’m sure you can explain it to him later, my brain reminds me rationally. No need to act like someone’s died. Mr Waters isn’t dead, which is the most important thing, isn’t it?

I hand my last $3.50 over to buy a soy latte for the Smiling Assassin, a woman I am starting to truly despise. I dutifully walk to the operating theatre front desk and leave her the coffee, then return to the ward.

I work until the end of the day, check with one of the nurses that Mr Waters is still alive (he is), then walk home and drink an entire bottle of wine.

By the time Winnie and Max roll into number 19 from their dinner out (something fun normal people or doctors on respiratory terms in summer do) and ask me how my day was, I can’t even respond. I stumble to bed, dreading the morning.

Somewhere else, somebody else is stepping onto a film set dressed in a white doctor’s coat over skimpy lingerie, playing the role of the sexy doctor as she unethically clears Bond for his dangerous fieldwork. Damn that woman to hell—she has stolen my life.

SEVEN

seven

I age ten years in a few weeks. It doesn’t help that I’m staying back at work till 9 pm every night to make sure Mr Waters, the Shark’s VIP patient, remains alive. I don’t trust the Joker or the Smiling Assassin enough to ensure that he does.

Mr Waters has now developed a pleural effusion, and looks uncomfortable every time he breathes. The Shark, in consultation with Dr Waters and Dr Waters, decides to have the fluid from his lungs drained using a special radiological method. This involves me contacting the radiology consultant, which means making a bit of an effort.

The Smiling Assassin and the Joker laugh in my face when I tell them that this is what the Shark wants. ‘That’s ridiculous! It’s not big enough to drain,’ the Joker says bluntly. ‘Bird is being an idiot. He’s just trying to impress his VIP patient’s daughter. I don’t know why, she’s a hag.’

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to jump on him and commence manual strangulation.

‘It’s not going to happen, Katarina,’ the Smiling Assassin says, smiling sweetly. ‘Sometimes you need to recognise when the boss wants something that’s not possible and you need to be smart enough to say no.’

‘I think I should at least try,’ I say awkwardly. ‘Like … I can just go into radiology and ask.’

We’re in the doctors’ room at the end of the ward. I’m standing by the door.