Chapter Twenty-Nine

KAT

I’ve been checking my watch every five minutes – an hour and a half really drags when your belly’s swaddled with the weight of responsibility and nervous decisions. The report is typed as per Mark’s suggestion, every last piece of detail I can think of included. I’ve reached for the phone several times to call Rhys, but each time something has stopped me. I’m not certain it’s in his best interests. I’m not certain it’s in Susan’s either.

Three minutes to three. I stand and walk the perimeter of my room, stretching out knots in my back and arms. Gail is known for many things, punctuality being right up there with sharpness and a lack of suffering fools. Have I been a fool? My eyes are glued to the sweep of the clock’s second hand as it moves in silent foreboding around the face. The hands tick onto three o’clock exactly and the ward door opens with a whoosh. I hear her before she arrives; a few orders in one direction – ‘Emma, can you just check the kitchen, looks like someone forgot to sort the pots.’ Then the continued, familiar clomp, clomp, slide of her gait. I can imagine Emma scowling at Gail’s back before scurrying to do a job that isn’t really her responsibility. Nobody says no to Gail.

‘Kat.’ She halts at my door like a sergeant major and I gulp. Is it visible? Can she smell my fear?

‘Gail, I’m so sorry to…’ I waft my arms around like an idiot. ‘Thanks for coming.’ I try to show her to the spare seat then wonder if I should be showing her to the seat she once occupied behind my desk. Her desk. I don’t know. ‘The thing is—’

‘Sorry, hang on, Kat. Me first.’ She strides in, hands up. Three steps and a slide, and she’s at my desk. I sidle my way around to my side, the office door taunting me with just how open she’s left it. Wide open. Impossible to hide anything.

‘It is with an element of surprise,’ she begins, bold and confident, ‘because I must say, of all the things, I did not see this particular situation coming…’ She sniffs, her nose in the air, arms crossed. My stomach drops to my feet. ‘It seems that your temporary promotion as acting ward sister has come to an end.’

My legs buckle beneath me and I reach for my chair. Someone’s beaten me to it. Who could it be? Only Mark and Lou know what’s gone off. Emma knows a little but she wouldn’t, would she? Has Susan found her voice? I lower my head, taking a pen to fiddle with, realising it’s the inappropriate one I’d wanted to distract Mark with. Typical that I’d find it now. Gail’s still talking, something about people’s unforeseen attitudes and decisions. Careers on the line. I slide the pen beneath some paperwork and reach for another. I can’t look at her. I don’t know where to start or how to explain, or really, where I went wrong. I was just trying to do my best. How is that bad?