‘How can you be sure, Debbie? I don’t think anyone knows what’s going to happen to Mrs Lomas.’

She sighs. ‘It’s shit. But human beings make mistakes. Mostly they get picked up but this time you were unlucky.’

‘Not as unlucky as my patient.’

‘Look. They say every doctor will have one, a patient we’ll never forget. There but for the grace of God or whoever the patron saint of junior doctors is.’

There is no grace, no God. Somehow I’ve always known this moment would come and now it has; I am numb.

I manage a half-smile for Debbie’s sake, and I carry my box of stuff down in the lift and along the corridor and out the back, the same route I took on my way home eleven hours ago. At that exact moment, Mrs Lomas must have been receiving the drug her body would reject with an attack that could take out her own organs as collateral damage.

When I get back to my digs, it’s still not quite light and my landlady’s bedroom curtains are closed. I tiptoe into the flat and grab my bag, leaving a note for her, and take a taxi to the station.

I should call Kerry now. I take my phone out, ready to dial.

But I can’t do it.

I can’t bear to hear her voice when she realizes how badly I’ve screwed up this time.

The only consolation is that my mother will never find out.

As I board the train to Brighton, I send a text. The reply comes back immediately.

Come over. Whatever it is, it can be fixed xxx

Chapter 46: Kerry

7 February 2006

I wake up feeling sick, remembering what happened at my interview yesterday.

I wait for the nausea to pass but instead it keeps building, and I rush into the bathroom to throw up.

It doesn’t make me feel any better.

As I flush, I spot something on the floor: Elaine’s hairbrush behind the wash basin. It’s an old-fashioned one, with a black handle and a pink cushioned base pierced by bristles. Thin white hairs coil in between them. She kept most of her hair until the end. It had a beautiful whorl when you saw it from above, like a meringue.

‘What will I do if I can’t be a doctor, Elaine? What the fuck am I going to do with my life instead?’

When I close my eyes, I can see her there in the doorway, and she’s mouthing something I can’t hear.

Hallucinations too? Great. I clearly have a winter bug as well as a rapidly diminishing chance of getting into med school. At least I’m off rota.