Chapter 13.
It’s 9:45 in the morning and I think this is a great time to be getting to work, though I have to admit that I maybe should have got changed. And washed. And shaved. And maybe even have gone to bed. But I’m here, so I’m maybe a little unsteady on my feet and my breath may smell a bit too much of whisky, but you know, I’m a professional. I can handle these things.
Jane doesn’t think it’s a great time to be getting to work. She doesn’t even say hello, her first words are just “Where the hell have you been, why didn’t you answer my call last night?” and then she went on to “Jesus you look a complete mess”, and then “Have you been drinking? Seriously, Mark, are you drunk?”.
That, I think, is why I’m sitting here again, waiting, in the canteen, with a good cup of coffee in my hand and a cigarette between my lips. That’s why I’m waiting for her to, I think, come and get me and take me to some meeting about my future. I may be drunk but I’m guessing it’s not about a promotion. Still, what the hell. We had a good time last night. We ditched the limo and torched it – that was fun – then we walked back to Gary’s house and picked up the van, drove to his place and, well, I’m not really too sure about the rest, except staggering out at about half nine and getting a taxi to the hospital. And meeting Jane. And finding out my smile wasn’t enough.
And now I’m sitting in a large, plush room, on an old chair facing a desk, one of those huge, ornate ones, and I’m sitting opposite Jane and some other guy, with an old face and a beard that makes him look, well, intelligent. He beams at me, and I smile back and think I’m going to throw up. He leans forward.
“Are you all right?” he asks and he looks genuinely concerned.
“Of course he’s not all right” snaps Jane. “He came to work drunk. And late. And failed to attend an urgent session last night despite being reminded of it several times. And so I am recommending immediate dismissal. It’s very clear.”
She leans over to Clever Professor (he must be a professor) and whispers something in his ear, and his face drops a bit. “Well, well, really” he mutters. And turns his attention back to me.
“Now, now, young man” he starts, with a grave voice, “you really haven’t behaved well, have you. I must say. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“Before that” says Jane, before I can say anything, “let me clearly state for the record, why we are here.”
“I thought we already did that?” asks Clever Professor, confused.
“For the record, we need to do it”
“But” he says slowly, “you said he came to work a little late after having had one or two glasses of wine, and some meeting or other having slipped his mind. I think it’s very clear.”
“It was rather more than that…” she starts
“Nonsense, nonsense, I think it’s very clear. Now, let’s see what this young man has to say for himself. Clearly a smart, upstanding citizen, so I’d like to understand what made him act in a somewhat, well, foolish, way.”
He smiles broadly at me and leans forward attentively, waiting. I glance at Jane, she’s staring angrily at him.
“Well” I say, uncertainly, clearing my throat.
“Yes?” he asks encouragingly.
“Well, it’s like this.” I take a deep breath. “What happened was this…” I’m trying really hard to get this straight in my head. I clear my throat again.
“I knew there was an explanation!” he shouts triumphantly. “Go on, Mark, go on my boy, you’ll find I am a very good listener.”
I rub my face with my hands. “A patient died yesterday.”
“Ah yes, very sad, very sad. And you took it personally? I know, it can happen.”
“Well, erm, yes, you know, he seemed like a, well, nice guy”
“Yes, yes, I know, I know. And?”
“But that’s no excuse!” says Jane sternly.
“Let him finish, I’m sure there’s lots more” says Clever Professor, patting her with his hand. She pushes his hand away.
Oh. I thought that would have been enough. “And” I say, trying to sort out my thoughts, “well, I, well, we, well… Jane asked me to look after the, erm, you know, documents and stuff…and well, so I did. And I, well, I went to his house to check it out…”
“You went to his house?” asks Jane incredulously.
“Of course, of course, good idea” says CP, smiling again. “I like to see that, taking an interest in our patients…”
“But he was dead!” Jane says
“Nevertheless…” says CP. Jane and I glance at each other and it’s like for a moment we share a bemused thought.
“So… you went to his house, and…”
“And, well, there was an aunt, well no, not a real aunt, more like a kind of friend of the family there and”
“And she was very upset?”
“Erm, yes, so I tried to well, comfort her and well, I don’t really know how to say this, but…” I trail off and look down.
“Oh” says CP, shocked, and put his hand to his mouth. “She…?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I know I’m a good looking guy, and she was, well, she was, overcome I guess. I felt sorry for her so I gave her a drink and she…” (and I whisper this) “she tried to take advantage of me” looking down again for effect.
“Oh my goodness you poor man” says CP, “however did you cope?”
“You seriously believe this shit?” asks Jane. “Shush!” he replies.
“Well, it was hard” I’m saying, “you know, I mean, she was an old lady, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but you know…”
“Oh of course, of course…”
“So I let her, well, you know…” I’m doing the trailing off again because it seems to work really well. He’s nodding, his tongue’s hanging out now, “tell me” he says
“Well” I whisper, “I let her touch me”
“Oh! And…” his eyes have lit up
“And, well, she… took advantage of me…”
“And, yes, tell me more!” says CP eagerly, leaning forward, his hands shaking.
“I think we’ve heard enough!” this is Jane.
CP sits back suddenly. “Oh, yes, of course, we have.” He takes a second and composes himself. “And then, of course, you felt so traumatised that you had to spend the entire night drinking?” He pauses and says in a low, sympathetic voice “I’m right, aren’t I?”
I nod, sadly. Jane shakes her head.
CP rubs his hands together slowly. “Well, I think it is very clear what happened here. The poor man has had a very traumatic incident, and clearly this has affected him badly. Nonetheless” he says, nodding vigorously, “despite what he has had to endure, he made the effort to come to work that morning, and for that he should be commended. A very brave young man. Now…” and he leans into me, lifting a finger, “listen to me, young man. You are going to go straight home and take the day off. No… I won’t hear a word against it. And you come back tomorrow, so long as you are all right, bright and refreshed. And” he glances at Jane, “we won’t say another word about it.”
It’s a wonderful life.
Kings of the Night Page 17