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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

As Dr Prince starts to raise his voice, Dr Johnson, one of the neurologists, calls for order. ‘I don’t think this is the time or place to be having this conversation,’ she says, looking deeply unimpressed. ‘There are junior staff present, let me remind you.’

Dr Johnson takes over and starts asking the registrars questions about the first case. The Shark says nothing, but his face looks like a thunderstorm. I want to sneak a glance at Dr Prince, but he’s behind me and I don’t want him to catch me staring. I feel bad for him.

‘Ask our intern a question,’ the Smiling Assassin is saying to Dr Johnson. ‘She needs to get better at her anatomy.’

I realise all eyes are now on me to start naming the damaged blood vessels in the mangled brain on the projector. I forget about Dr Prince and start taking deep breaths to combat my rising anxiety. I stutter something about the basilar artery which sounds semi-right, but Dr Johnson’s look of disgust suggests otherwise.

The meeting passes in a blur of humiliation, and as soon as the last slide has been shown I nearly knock my chair over in my attempt to be the first to leave. Dr Prince, amazingly, beats me out the door, and I watch his back disappearing towards the safety of the private hospital.

The Shark is surrounded by his surgeon mates congratulating him on his show of dominance, including the Joker, and I use this opportunity to leave the area before they remember how badly I performed at question time.

‘Kitty!’ I walk out of the conference room and hear someone calling my name. I look up to see Estelle, charging down the corridor towards me. ‘I came to find you. Let’s get a coffee!’

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Estelle has tracked me down to plan our trip to the country, which, unbelievably, is only a week away. I’m still not reconciled to the idea, but at least I’m now distracted by my research paper for Dr Prince and his German surgeon friend, the wonderfully named Dr Wolfgang Dietrich. With a name like that he must be a bit of fun, surely, I think to myself. Between Mozart and Marlene he’s got all his creative bases covered. Dr Prince emailed me last night with the opening words, Shouldn’t take too long, followed by millions of links to articles that looked like they’d take years to wade through. The quiet life of the country might be a good place to focus on my more academic, rather than alcoholic, pursuits.