by Bryce Taylor
Gupta shrugs at me apologetically.
"She really is the hottest doctor in the hospital," he says quietly, as if he has noticed my interest in her.
"You aren't too bad," I tell him reflexively. That is an understatement. He is actually incredibly handsome, chiselled jaw, dark hair, deep golden skin.
He doesn't hear me, he is still looking up the hallway wistfully after Leigh.
"She is pretty awesome, hey?" he says.
He looks back at me.
"Do you know her?" he asks hopefully.
I shrug, I don't really know how to explain my relationship with Leigh.
"Do you?" I ask him. He's the first male doctor who hasn't said something derogatory or made a distasteful face on seeing her.
He shakes his head. "I just think she's pretty cool you know, taking on all those," he glances down at the kid, "all of them."
"She doesn't even care that everyone knows she is gay," he adds wistfully.
Oh, right.
Bless him.
"You know it isn't really a big deal," I tell him as we walk out into the hallway.
He gives me a flat look.
Yeah. Ok. Fair enough.
"It is," he says. "You know I was thinking about that end of year dinner, you know if I should just take a guy."
He laughs.
"Then I realised not only don't I even know a guy who would go with me to something like that but even if I did I am way too gutless to do it. Not like her," he says. "She just doesn't give a shit."
I put my hand on his elbow.
"I could find you a nice guy to take," I tell him. It's true, there are at least five of my fellow nurses who would happily take him and then take him home.
He’d have to be planning on putting out after.
Gupta's face falls at this suggestion.
"I'd go with you," I tell him and he looks up immediately.
"Seriously?" he says, looking delighted.
I nod, regretting it already.
I don't even have a dress.
"I thought you might be going with Dr Grenfell," he says.
Yeah, right. I roll my eyes at him.
"You are very good looking too," he says smirking, "just her type from what I hear."
I poke him in the ribs. He grins back at me cheekily, looking even more handsome, his face relaxed. Relieved, even.
"Well," he says, sobering, "I'm happy you are going with me, I think there are already rumours about me. You know, when I finish my residency, I want to be able to come out on my own terms, not just find out that someone has outed me."
"Well, no one will hear from me," I promise him.
"Can I pick you up?" he asks.
Well, that would definitely beat catching the bus.
"Sure," I tell him, writing down my address.
Now I just need to work out what the heck I am going to wear.
I don't see Leigh for coffee the next morning. She leaves me a note at the cafe and shouts me a Vegemite toast as she has taken to doing on those mornings that she is finished on time.
Aednat,
I finished super early, so going to try and get a good day of sleep. Have a nice day off on Monday.
The walk to the cemetery on the cliffs is beautiful if you are looking for something to do. I'm sure it is a lovely place to read Irish literature (if you exclude the weather which is expected to be perfect).
Your friend,
Leigh
The first time she did this I just asked for jam on my toast instead. Leigh called that cheating and now she has bribed the staff to give me Vegemite regardless of what I ask for. They all think this is hilarious. Both the notes and the toast.
I'm not really sure I know what is going on with Leigh and I but I am sure that I don't care, it is nice, a cathartic balm to my soul.
I try to catch her when I see her at the start of her shift but there are two doctors in the ward and she vanishes before I can get a word in.
Which means that tomorrow night when I turn up at the dinner with Gupta, that is going to be the first she has heard of it. It shouldn't be a big deal but I think it might be.
Or maybe I just hope so.
Chapter 5
I spend the whole of my day off looking for a dress, till eventually I find one at the second-hand shop down the road. It isn't great, a little short and more than a little tight. I suspect that Gupta isn't going to appreciate the amount of cleavage on display either. Not that I want him too, but you know.
I smile at my reflection in the mirror, remind myself that I'm not too bad when I actually take the effort to get out the array of comfortable clothes that are on short rotation, daggy jeans, sandals and worn singlets.
Katie comes and does my face and hair and pronounces that I'll do with an approving smile.
Diarmuid certainly gets an eyeful before Katie slaps him on the back of the head. He gives her an injured look. Of course, Gupta turns up early, right at that moment, standing in the open doorway, as Katie and I are both saying "Diarmuid," in loud threatening tones.
Gupta looks startled and is probably wishing he'd waited in his car.
Diarmuid looks up at him.
"You know what I'm talking about, right mate?" he says chummily.
Gupta does not, his skin flushing.
"Actually," he says glancing hopefully back at the door, "I'm gay."
Well, it would have been helpful if Gupta had said that it was only people at the hospital I couldn't tell. Katie and Diarmuid are both giving me a look that says I could have mentioned that piece of information sooner, before they had both got excited for me going out on a date.
We all talk awkwardly for a few minutes until I drag him down the stairs and away from their clutches and then we both talk awkwardly in the car the whole way there.
"Are you nervous?" I ask him eventually as he is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel insistently.
He looks at me sideways and nods.
"Being a doctor is a bit of a popularity contest," he says after a moment, "and I never really know what to say at these things."
He lets out a long breath and pulls at the collar of his tux.
Oh, bless.
He must be about two or three years older than me, but he probably has never done anything really stupid in his entire life.
We arrive at the venue, a skyscraper of a hotel down at the harbour and suddenly I am nervous too, feeling that I wish I'd spent more money on my dress.
Gupta looks at me as we pull in. "You look gorgeous by the way," he tells me shyly and we both grin at each other.
We are early, only a few of the younger residents are here before us, the ballroom filled with dozens and dozens of tables and formal place settings. There is however free booze and by the time dinner is served and the tables are three quarters full we are sloshed. The whole posse of us early arrivals at one very rowdy table, through some place card manoeuvring.
We aren't necessarily making a good impression, but we are having fun.
I have introduced Gupta to the classic game of snog, marry or avoid. He listens in silence as I go through the entire table nearest to us. There are probably too many snogs and marries in my monologue to be healthy but it really has been a while, but honestly all the female doctors are quite attractive, to say nothing of some of the women accompanying the male doctors. Most of them aren't really my type but I can certainly appreciate their looks. It makes me realise that there hasn't been a single guy I've been interested in since I got to this country and that the Irish pub we hang out at is not conducive at all to picking up women.
Katie and Diarmuid, bless them, do occasionally make noises about taking me to a gay bar in town but I'm nervous about that too.
These things were far easier at university.
Gupta wasn't very keen to start with on the game but my enthusiasm is contagious and he is now whispering in my ear about the two waiters leaning up at the bar.
We have a few more drinks and
ignore our dinner going cold in front of us. Gupta is laughing and has become the life of the party, apparently his social anxieties just needed to be washed away by a little liquid courage.
Just as dessert is being cleared away Leigh walks in and I stop mid-sentence. She is dressed in the style of a classic Hollywood bad boy from the fifties, thin white tee rolled up at the sleeves, narrow black slacks cinched at her waist, somehow highlighting how delicate she looks despite the hard lines of her arms, the sharp cut of her pants. Her hair has been newly cut, sharply on the sides, slicked back on top and it only accentuates the sparse planes of her face, how she makes the prettiest guy or the most striking woman I have ever seen.
There is a pain in my heart as I understand for the first time that someone like her was never, ever meant to be with someone like me.
That I can see what Gupta means by her just not giving a shit.
I watch as she stuffs her hands in her pockets, at her staring sullenly around the room as if she would prefer to be anywhere but here. Then I notice her date, the most perfectly elegant woman, who has one arm looped through hers and who is dressed in a gown worthy of the Oscars with a body worthy of the movie screen.
The kind of woman Leigh deserves, as tall as her and heartbreakingly beautiful, smiling around the room graciously. She leans over and whispers something in Leigh's ear, making her crack a begrudging smile.
I hate her already.
Gupta looks at me, follows my line of sight, sees Leigh and raises both his eyebrows, looks back to me wide-eyed and sympathetic.
Not what I need right now.
"Not one word," I growl at him under my breath.
His eyes widen further as if I have actually scared him.
Leigh is sitting down at the table full of the other senior surgeons and their wives, nodding arrogantly at the men whilst somehow managing to smile at all the women politely. She leans back in her chair, arms crossed, ignoring the table at large.
Everything about Leigh is a mockery of those at her table, her dress, her date. Surrounded by stiffly upright middle-aged tuxedo clad surgeons, Leigh is lounging back, derisively staring off into the distance. Her age is somehow even more noticeable in contrast to her peers at such close quarters.
Her date has one hand on her arm and is busy charming everyone despite Leigh's black looks. They are laughing uproariously at whatever she is saying and Leigh is reluctantly muttering the odd comment.
After a few minutes though, Leigh is speaking in whole sentences, leaning forward, adding to the conversation, cajoled into social niceties.
"Why would she even bother turning up this late?" I ask Gupta.
He shrugs. It's his first dinner too.
"She always turns up about now to pick up the nurses’ choice award," answers a guy sitting across the table whose name I don't remember.
I make a face at him, what?
"It's an award for the doctor who the nurses feel has contributed the most. She was at this hospital for the end of her residency, so she already knew a lot of the nursing staff. When she came back four years ago into surgery she won in a landslide and has done every year since then. She always turns up a few minutes before it is announced, makes a few choice comments and then leaves shortly thereafter," he explains, looking pleased to have this background knowledge.
"And her date?" I ask.
"Oh, yeah," he says appreciatively, turning around to get a good look. "No-one knows, they never stick around long enough for anyone to find out, but she has come every year with Leigh too."
She now has an arm resting on Leigh's shoulder and is whispering something in Leigh's ear and Leigh is looking amused, her shoulders relaxed.
I can tell by the look on Gupta's face that he wishes that he were wearing something less ordinary, something that made him look edgy and remarkable too. He undoes his bow tie and the top two buttons of his shirt and leans back in his chair, arms crossed, mirroring Leigh.
The dean of the hospital is standing, tapping his glass with his spoon, announcing in amused tones that Leigh has, to no one’s surprise, taken the award again. He makes a put-upon gesture at Leigh, gives her a 'do your worst' look, this obviously a much-loved tradition.
She does, standing up on her chair and proceeding to give the entire room a serve. The kind of speech that I can't imagine being stood for anywhere else in the world at a dinner like this. To the effect that the doctors and surgeons in this room should take some time to consider how lucky they are to be supported by the hundreds of people that make a hospital happen.
Only in far less polite language and she is clearly deadly serious about the content.
She finishes her speech and stares around the room arrogantly, hoping that someone will try and defend their own lofty position from her jibes.
No one does.
There are a few scattered enthusiastic claps in a largely silent room, mostly our table and a few fellow nurses. Her date isn't one of the people clapping either, she is shaking her head at Leigh, looking exasperated. Leigh shrugs at her as she sits back down and mouths 'sorry', not looking at all contrite.
The mood in the room has quietened, no one entirely sure what to say.
Except Gupta.
"I'm gay," Gupta tells our table loudly. Loudly enough that not only our table hears it, but a few surrounding tables as well.
Everyone at our table looks slightly bemused. So?
I can see that Gupta is torn between his disappointment that no-one cares and relief that no-one cares.
He and I go to the bar to get more drinks, as we've seemingly cut off from table service now, only I have to send him back when I realise that he is possibly the reason we aren't getting served anymore.
I can't help but watch Leigh from across the ballroom as I tuck a bottle each of red and white wine under my arm and of course that is the moment that she spies me. She grins at me, looking delighted to see me here and immediately gets her to feet, leaving her table mid-conversation, weaving her way through the tables towards the bar.
"Hi there, you look amazing," she says with just the right amount of emphasis and pleasure, "I can't believe you are here, don't you have anything better to do on a Monday night?"
I can feel my anger rising in me, all this time she has been pretending to be something she is not, acting as if she is ordinary.
"Having fun?" I ask her acidly.
Her nose flairs briefly.
"Not really," she says derisively and then looks me over, assessing my level of intoxication, noting the wine still under each arm.
"You look like you are though," she says, smiling genuinely.
"Is that the boy you brought?" she asks with a nod towards Gupta.
"He's gay," I tell her bluntly, liking even less her seeming happiness that I am dating.
She looks at me, starting to sense that my annoyance is real and possibly directed at her.
"Oh, uh, are you having fun?" she asks more cautiously.
"I'm having a blast," I tell her sarcastically.
She is smiling as if she believes me.
"Certainly looks like it?" she asks, smirking.
I'm furious with her, that Leigh who I thought wasn't supposed to be dating anyone is apparently dating one of the most beautiful women on the planet, that despite all our breakfast dates she has neglected to mention this fact to me.
"Like you're not?" I ask her flatly, pointedly staring at her date.
Leigh looks back to her table as if she isn't sure who or what I am talking about.
"Justine?" she asks in tones of surprise and distaste, looks back at me, all innocently incredulous. "She's my friend."
As if somehow, she hasn't ever noticed Justine's obvious good looks.
"Oh, so it's just that you have this one really hot friend, hey?" I ask her sarcastically. "Someone who just happens to be perfect to take to these kinds of things?"
She opens her mouth to say something but I don't let her.
"You have to take s
omeone hot, because that proves to the other surgeons that you are winning right? Leigh Grenfell couldn't be seen on the arm of someone who is less than mind blowingly perfect right?"
I trail off as I notice she is grinning at me.
"Aednat," she says openly laughing now, "you really should do your research before you open that mouth of yours."