by Amy Cross
“This doesn't seem right,” Elly replied, as she wrote her number on the paper and then passed it back to her.
“Don't,” Sharon replied.
“Don't what?”
“Don't start thinking you can change anything. This is just how it is here, and despite everything I just told you, we look after the patients properly. We do a good job, even if we have to cut corners. The good side of it is that we don't have to jump through hoops to comply with paperwork. We can focus on our work more, and I promise you, the people in our care are better looked after than anyone at one of those big fancy hospitals in the center of town. At least we remember their names, and they see the same faces every day and every night.”
“Sure,” Elly replied, “it just seems...” She paused trying to think of the right words, but in all honesty she felt as if she'd wandered into a nightmare. Far from turning out to be okay, this new job was so far turning out to be even worse than she'd expected. “I guess you're right,” she said finally. “I guess you've got your way of doing things, so it's up to me to fit in.”
“That's the spirit!”
Elly smiled weakly.
“And let's face it,” Sharon added, “anyone who ends up working here isn't in much better shape than the patients. Don't get me wrong, we're good people, we're all more than qualified, but we've all got some kinda black mark against our names, else we'd be working somewhere better.” She paused, eying Elly with a hint of caution. “So what's your story, girl? What did you do wrong at your previous hospital, to end up working in a place like this?”
“I -”
“Don't wanna talk about it?”
“It's just -”
“I blinded a little girl,” Sharon continued. Her smile was gone now, replaced by a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It was a long time ago now, a few years. I was working on a ward at a children's hospital and a pressurized gas canister exploded right in her face. It wasn't even my fault, the canister was defective, but I'd skipped a safety checklist and technically...” She sighed. “So I got the blame, and now I figure this is the only place in the world that'll hire me. Still, I know I won't ever make that mistake again.” She paused, and then her smiled returned. “Okay, I shared, now it's your turn. What did you do?”
Elly paused.
“Are you ashamed?”
“I...”
Before Elly could answer, an old phone on the nearby desk began to ring.
“Saved by the bell,” Sharon chuckled.
“But -”
“Well, aren't you going to answer it?”
“Me?”
“You work here now,” Sharon continued, checking her watch, “as of three and a half minutes ago. What's wrong, never answered a phone before?”
After hesitating for a moment, Elly picked up the phone. “Hello?” she said cautiously.
“Who's that?” a sharp, clipped female voice asked.
“Elly. Elly Blackstock.” She paused, before remembering how she'd answered the phone at her previous job and shifting into professional gear. “This is Nurse Elly Blackstock at Middleford Cross, how can I -”
“Are you the new girl?” the voice snapped.
“Um, yes, is there -”
“Is Sharon with you?”
“Yes, do you want to -”
“Tell her we're about three minutes away. Tell her there are very few notes, but it's a breather. Stroke victim, seventies, he's going to need his own room. Tell her we'll be at the door in about two and half minutes now and she needs to be ready. I don't want to be left waiting around.”
“What do you -”
“Do you understand what I just told you?”
“Yes, but -”
Hearing a click on the other end of the line, Elly frowned as she realized the other person had hung up. Setting the phone down, she turned to see that Sharon was watching her with a hint of bemused curiosity.
“That was...” Pausing, Elly realized she hadn't caught a name. “That was someone who wanted you to know that she's -”
“Gonna be here in about three to five minutes?”
Elly nodded.
“Wants the patient to have his own room?”
Elly nodded again.
“Figured.”
“She hung up on me.”
“You'll get used to the boss,” Sharon continued, opening a drawer and pulling out a set of keys. “She can be a little short with people sometimes, so it's best to just keep out of her way as much as you can. She'll probably want to talk to you at some point tonight, to get a feel for you, but she's out right now dealing with this new patient who's on the way. She always handles the intakes herself, on account of her being the only one who's authorized to sign the paperwork. Number seventeen, he'll be. God knows what's wrong with him.”
“She said it's a stroke victim.”
“Huh. Great.” She tossed the keys to Elly, who was so startled she almost dropped them. “Go find a room for the new arrival,” she continued, clearly amused. “Make it up, get it ready. Don't worry about the room itself being too clean, just make sure all the equipment is in place while I go and meet the new arrival.”
“But -”
“And don't ask too many questions,” Sharon added, heading to the door. “That's the most important rule, really. That, and don't even think of upstaging me in the Employee of the Month competition.” She pointed at the wall, where a framed photo showed her grinning enthusiastically. “I always win,” she continued, with a hint of steel in her voice. “Always. As for the rest of the place, just keep your head down. The last thing we need around here is someone who keeps on asking things all the goddamn time. Think for yourself, show some initiative, and you'll be just fine. I've got a good feeling about you, Elly. I think you're gonna last much longer than most people who come here.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“But... Do people usually not last long?”
“Staff turnover is high. People quit on us a lot.”
“I can't afford to quit.”
“Good.” She smiled. “Don't worry, girl, I know it seems kinda crazy right now, but you'll get used to the place soon enough. Give it a few days, and you'll be just like the rest of us. Oh, and...” She paused, as if she was waiting for Elly to say something. “Well, I'll get it out of you soon enough.”
“Get what out of me?”
“The reason you came to work in a place like this, with the rest of us screw-ups. The nature of the black mark against your name.”
Left alone in the office, Elly looked at the keys in her hand as she heard Sharon hurrying away. After a moment, she glanced around at all the paperwork, and she began to realize that Middleford Cross was nothing like the other hospitals where she'd worked in the past. Setting her backpack down, she took her packed food out and looked around for a refrigerator, before realizing that she was out of luck. She reached into her pocket to take out her phone, figuring she should call her mother to let her know that she'd arrived safely, but suddenly she spotted an old monitor on one of the desks, showing a black and white video feed of an ambulance arriving in the parking lot. A moment later, she saw on the feed that Sharon was heading out to meet the ambulance, the back doors of which had already opened to allow a slim, dark-haired woman in a nurse's uniform to climb down. Peering closer, Elly watched the fuzzy image and saw the two women working to bring a trolley out.
Realizing that she had to go and get the room ready, Elly turned and hurried out of the office. On the monitor, Sharon could be seen talking with the woman from the ambulance, who seemed angry about something.
Chapter Two
“Thomas Clay Lacy,” Sharon said with a frown, reading from the intake register. “Fancy name for a not-so-fancy looking gentleman.” She looked along the bed and smiled at the old man. “Hey, Willy, welcome to Middleford Cross, you're gonna love it here.”
With his head tilted to one side and his eyes closed, the patient was unable to respond. He hadn't move
d of his own accord since being wheeled into the building, not even when he'd been lifted off the trolley and onto his new bed. According to the notes that had been sent with him, he wasn't expected to wake up any time soon.
Focusing on her work, Elly carefully slid a needle into Mr. Lacy's arm, before checking that the drip was working properly. She'd performed this kind of task before, of course, but tonight she wanted to be extra certain that she didn't make any mistakes. She was double checking, even triple checking sometimes, everything she did. Once the line was set up, she pulled the sheets back and unbuttoned the front of the patient's pants, before slipping them down and turning to grab a catheter tube from the trolley.
“Willy had a stroke,” Sharon continued, still looking at the notes. She chuckled at something for a moment. “Ouch, apparently he lay undiscovered in his apartment for a whole weekend. Says here, his pet cat had started to eat him.” She winced, before lifting the patient's right arm to reveal several sections of chewed flesh. “Can you believe that? Cats are the meanest. What did I tell you, huh? We only get the people here that nobody's gonna miss. Nobody except a hungry little pussy, anyway. This man lay in his own filth for a couple of days, that's how long it took for someone to notice he wasn't up and about. Eighty-five years old, and no-one gives a damn about him. What kind of man doesn't accumulate a few friends over the course of a lifetime?”
“You shouldn't say that,” Elly replied as she inserted the catheter. “He might be able to hear you.”
“Oh, he's out cold,” Sharon replied, leaning across the bed and clicking her fingers in front of the patient's face. “See? Says on the notes that he hasn't woken up since he was found. He suffered a massive stroke followed by a couple of minor ones, it's not even certain he'll wake up at all, and if he does he won't likely have much to say for himself. He'll probably just be a vegetable for a little while and then slip away. Sad but true.” She clicked her fingers again, before looking back down at the notes. “No wife, no children, no family, not even a friend listed as a point of contact. Jesus Christ, some people just don't have anyone, do they? Almost makes you feel sad for him.”
“It's tragic,” Elly replied.
“The only friend in this man's life,” Sharon continued, “is a cat, who started eating him. I mean, God...” She made the sign of the cross against her chest. “I hope I don't ever end up like this sad old man.”
Elly smiled politely, but she was already starting to find Sharon a little grating. Concentrating on making the patient comfortable, she pulled the sheets back up and then took hold of his right hand so she could examine his injuries.
“It doesn't look like this was properly dressed,” she muttered, turning the hand over to see where the cat had chewed on Mr. Lacy's flesh, gnawing down to the bone. Some of the skin was alarmingly pink, and some was darkening at the edges. “I'm going to do it again.”
“Don't worry about it.”
“It'll only take a moment.”
“We don't have time.”
“It might get infected.”
“Yeah, it might,” Sharon said with a sigh, “but it probably won't. You need to learn, Elly, that resources around this place are tight. You deal with problems as they arise, not potential problems as you spot them, otherwise you'll be running around like crazy and you won't make any friends, I can promise you that. Do you have any idea how understaffed we are?”
“Sure, but -”
“So leave it.”
“I should clean the wound a little.”
“No,” Sharon replied, taking the old man's hand and forcibly setting it back down on the bed, “you shouldn't. It's fine. Besides, do you want to be responsible for explaining to the boss why we have to order extra supplies? 'Cause I sure as hell don't. She really, really doesn't like having to order extra supplies.”
“It'll only take a few minutes,” Elly told her. “I can do it during my break. I'll also get a blood sample taken to check for any other conditions.”
“We don't have an analysis lab here.”
“Then I'll get it sent away. The results should only take a few days to come back.”
“Elly...”
“It's important,” she continued. “The patients need us to look after then properly, and this wound doesn't seem to have healed at all. Dealing with a minor problem now is better than dealing with a crisis later.” She waited for a reply. “It'll be cheaper, too.”
“Let me see,” Sharon muttered, leaning over. “Fine,” she said after a moment, “maybe you're right.”
“It's important,” Elly replied. “We need to -”
Spotting movement in the doorway, she turned and saw a man in a white coat entering the room. Around her age and conspicuously handsome, with dark hair, dark eyes and dark stubble, he didn't even acknowledge her presence as he hurried to the bed, clearly a little flustered. He had the overall demeanor of a man who'd just been woken from a deep sleep and who wasn't happy about that fact. Sorting through the various notepads he'd brought, he seemed to be having trouble finding one that related to this particular patient.
“Anything?” he asked, with a Scottish accent.
“Nope,” Sharon replied, licking her lips with delight as she kept her eyes fixed on Elly. “Nothing to report, Doctor Carmichael.”
“Mr. Lacy, can you hear me?” the doctor asked, forcing one of the old man's eyes open so he could shine a torch directly at the pupil. “Minimal response, consistent with the scan results Ridgemond sent over. There's not much going on in there.” He leaned closer. “Mr. Lacy,” he continued, raising his voice, “can you hear me? If you can, I want you to give me some kind of sign. Anything will do, just so I know you're aware of what's happening.”
He waited, but there was nothing.
Grinning, Sharon surreptitiously pointed at Carmichael's rear and mouthed “Look at that ass” to Elly.
Blushing, Elly turned away.
Letting the old man's eye slip shut, Carmichael turned to Sharon. “Continue the treatment program they had him on at Ridgemond and I'll re-evaluate in seventy-two hours. We'll stick to the usual routine for this type of patient. Remember the stroke patient we had about six months ago, the one who died? We'll use the same treatment course this time around. Trust your own judgment if he seems to need a little more or a little less of anything, don't come bothering me unless his levels change dramatically, is that understood? Oh, and -” He grabbed the old man's arm and examined the wound. “Re-dress this and take a blood sample, find out why it's not healing properly.”
“Absolutely, Doctor Carmichael,” Sharon replied, still smiling, before glancing at Elly. “By the way, I'd like you to meet -”
“Any developments in the other rooms?” he asked.
“Nothing I thought worth mentioning to you,” she explained. “It's all in the reports.”
“I'll take a look before I get off in the morning,” he replied, heading to the door. “Looks like there's not much more we can do for Mr. Lacy except wait and hope. By the way, have you seen the bitch yet tonight? Has she asked about me?”
“I've seen her, but she didn't say nothing about you.”
“Small mercies, then. I'll check on Rachel and then I'll be in my office, and I'd rather not be disturbed.”
“Doctor Jonathan Carmichael,” Sharon added, stepping after him and tapping his arm, “I'd like you to meet our newest member of staff, Nurse Elly Blackstock.”
Stopping in the doorway, Carmichael turned to her with a frown, before looking over at Elly as if he genuinely hadn't noticed her before. “Oh,” he muttered, “I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. Welcome to Middleford Cross.”
“Thank you,” Elly replied, stepping forward to shake his hand while hoping that she was no longer blushing. “I'm very pleased to be here.”
“I'm sure you are,” he added, ignoring her hand before turning and walking out of the room. After a moment, his footsteps could be heard hurrying along the corridor, heading away.
“He like
s you,” Sharon said after a moment.
“He does not!” Elly replied, shocked by the suggestion.
“Does too.”
“He barely even noticed me. Anyway, it doesn't matter if he likes me. I'm just a nurse.”
“Don't worry,” Sharon continued, “he's like that with everyone. I'd tell you he starts being more personable once you get to know him, but that'd be a lie. He's Scottish, that's what they're all like. Carmichael's the kinda guy who just wants to get things done as quickly and as efficiently as possible, so he can get on with his other work. To him, patients are just an unwelcome distraction.”
“What other work?”
“Oh, come on,” Sharon continued, wincing a little as she got down onto her knees and started sorting through the contents of the trolley, “don't go sticking your nose in. One of the few advantages of working here at the Overflow is that no-one's really paying us any goddamn attention at all. For a man like Doctor Jonathan Carmichael, that means there are some fringe benefits. Now...” She pulled out a box and examined its contents, before sighing and checking another box. “What I wouldn't give,” she muttered, “for a decent inventory.”
“Who's the bitch?” Elly asked.
“Who's the who?”
“He mentioned something about a bitch,” Elly continued, feeling a little uncomfortable even saying that word out loud, “and you said she hadn't asked after him. He seemed relieved.”
“Oh, right. The bitch.” She chuckled. “The boss. You'll meet her soon, she's...” Clearly finding something funny, she continued to search through the boxes on the trolley. “Well, she's interesting, that's all I've got to say on the subject.”
“Interesting doesn't sound too bad.”
“You think? Imagine you're out swimming and you see a shark fin coming at you. Now that'd be pretty interesting, wouldn't it? But you'd still not wanna have anything to do with it.” She examined another box. “That's the kinda interesting she is.”
“But -”
“And now,” she added, “the bad news here is that we're out of a few basic supplies, but the good news is we've got plenty in the store room. And the fantastic news is that you can get your initiation over and done with right off the bat.”