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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 G wants to do anaesthetics now,’ Max says cheerfully, opening his third beer. ‘The access to restricted prescription drugs appeals to him.’

We all nod our understanding. I remember Tom the anaesthetics registrar from our house party and his little bag of cocaine and tell the Godfather he’ll be in good company.

Sometimes you meet someone and know straight away they’ll become your friend. Call it serendipity, or fate, or bad luck that we’re all stuck in Wingabby together, but the Godfather slots into place as the final member of our doctor quartet like the winning token in a game of Connect Four.

Despite, or maybe because of, his less-than-legal extracurricular sources of income, I like the Godfather. He tells us he was a lawyer before becoming a doctor and we’re all suitably impressed. He’s good-looking and deceptively quiet, which we soon learn has afforded him much success with the hospital nursing staff.

‘There’s gotta be some nurses out here,’ he says hopefully. ‘Every hospital has at least two decent-looking nurses.’

‘You might want to pace yourself,’ Estelle advises. ‘We’re here for over eight weeks, so that’s an average of two a month, if you stretch things out.’

The Godfather and Max have been placed in the old fibro shack next door to ours, and are similarly dismayed.

‘These places aren’t exactly hot-nurse magnets,’ the Godfather says, looking demoralised as he gazes at the brown decor. ‘We want a love shack, not an actual shack.’

‘It looks like it’s been painted with shit,’ Estelle says, not bothering with niceties.

Max laughs gleefully. ‘The princes of Poo Palace!’

‘Or fifty shades of shit.’ Estelle grins despite herself.

The Godfather passes me his spliff, and I relent and take a long drag. I pass it to Estelle, who passes it to Max, and soon we’re giggling like schoolchildren on the brown couch, staring at the brown walls which match the brown ceiling and brown floor.

Estelle turns on the ancient brown radio, which only seems to pick up one station.

‘Classic hits on a steamy Wingabby weekend!’ the broad Australian accent tells us enthusiastically as the music starts to play. ‘Hope you’ve all got your fans on!’

As the haze of marijuana smoke floats above us, the radio blasts out classic hit after classic hit. Max is arguing with the Godfather about the best surgical program to apply for, Estelle has taken a valium and her eyes are as hazy as the room, and I sink into the brown couch, watching the words of the classic hits of Wingabby walk through the air in front of me.

Dr Katarina Holliday—this is YOUR life.

SEVENTEEN

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