The Dilemma

by Abbie Taylor

  The hall directly outside Forest Ward was silent. No sound of any voices or activity. Dawn swung the door open an inch. In the centre of the floor was the nurses’ desk with its computer and phones, sitting in the pool of light from the bendy lamp. Beyond the desk, the rows of beds faded into the dimness. There was no sign of Elspeth or the agency nurse. They were probably in the staff room at the far end. From there, they wouldn’t hear Dawn moving about. And if one of them did happen to come up the ward, she would hear them long before they reached her.

  She slipped through the doors and went straight to the stock room. There was no need to turn on the light. The glow from the nurses’ desk was more than enough to make out the counters and shelves, the metallic gleam of the safe on the wall. Dawn pulled a pair of latex gloves from the dispenser and put them on. Then she eased the bolt-cutters from her bag. Just as she was unwrapping them from their newspaper, a man’s voice shouted from somewhere outside the door, ‘Oi! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  Dawn just managed to catch the cutters before they crashed to the ground. The man’s voice came again. ‘Get off me, you bastards! I’ll kill you.’

  Dawn breathed again in relief. Mr Otway, in bed sixteen. By day, the sweetest-natured elderly man, but at night when the lights went off he had a tendency to become confused. One of his recurrent beliefs was that he was in an experimental institute run by MI5. She listened for a moment but there was no sound of anyone coming to see to him. His shouts were beginning to subside. Get on with it. Quickly, Dawn positioned the metal blades one on either side of the padlock. The shackle looked very light and frail between the cutters. This was going to be easy. At the last minute, she lifted the corner of her jacket and stuffed it between the shackle and the blades to muffle the noise. Then she brought the handles together.

  She had expected it to be easy, but she was surprised at just how easy it was. The lock gave immediately with a soft crack. The sound of Dawn’s shoe touching the floor would have been louder. St Iberius really did need to spend more on security. She opened the safe, removed the morphine boxes and shook them to empty the ampoules out over the counter. Ideally, if she was staging a drug theft, she should take the ampoules with her, but if she met someone on the way out she didn’t want to have them on her. Hopefully the general assumption would be that the burglar had been interrupted and fled. For effect, she slid open a couple of drawers and scattered the contents – needles, syringes, cannulas – over the floor. Also a few dressing packs from a shelf. There. That should be enough to suggest that someone had had a quick rummage around before finding their main target.

  The minutes were ticking by. Time to get out of here. She placed the bolt cutters on the counter, peeled her latex gloves off and stuffed them into her bag. Before going back out to the ward, she paused again to listen. Now would definitely not be a good time to get caught. The main doors were mere feet away. Five, six steps and she was there. Mr Otway seemed to have settled down. The only sound from the ward was a soft snore. Go for it! Dawn flew across the floor. She was almost at the doors when she heard something behind her: a soft, rubbing squeak, like a footstep. In another second she was out in the hall. She did not slow but headed straight for the fire escape and flung herself through the door. At the last second, just before the door clunked shut, she looked back. The corridor was empty. No one was following her. The double doors to Forest Ward were closed.

  She was much more cautious leaving the hospital even than she had been on her way in. Before every door and corner she paused to check that the way ahead was clear. But all she saw were locked departments, shadowy, deserted seating areas, the eerie green reflections of the Exit signs on the floor. At the other end of the link tunnel she took the lift to the kitchen entrance and opened the door to the bin-smelling yard. In seconds, she was through the door in the wall and out into the fresh night. The door clicked shut behind her. She’d done it! She’d made it! Mandy could not be blamed. No one could be blamed. In the distance, the eerie, up-and-down wail of an ambulance. The lights twinkling across the city, the breeze on her face. Exultation.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brrrrr.

  Dawn, woken by the noise, became aware that she was lying, fully-dressed, face-down on her duvet. Her mouth was stuck to the pillow. Why on earth had she set the alarm? She wasn’t working today. Her night shifts didn’t start until tomorrow. She stuck her hand out and hit the top of the alarm clock but the shrill noise continued. It was a couple of seconds before she realized that the sound was coming from her phone.

  She felt about on her bedside table for the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Sister Torridge?’

  ‘Elspeth!’ Still groggy, Dawn pulled herself up on her elbows. The daisy-patterned wallpaper by the window was lit by a greyish glow. The red digits on her clock read seven fifteen.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Sister.’ Elspeth sounded agitated, for her. ‘I know you’re not working today, but there’s been a problem.’

  Dawn, alert now, pulled herself up further in the bed.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she asked, though of course she already knew. The phone call had come earlier than expected but she was ready for it.

  Elspeth said, ‘We’ve had a break-in.’

  ‘A break-in?’ Easy. Easy. Surprise … concern … don’t overdo it.

  ‘Last night,’ Elspeth said. ‘Someone smashed open the stock-room safe and took some of the morphine.’

  ‘Good Lord!’

  ‘Yes, Sister. Security’s been up, and Sister Clark, the night manager. She called the police. She said I should let you know, but to wait till this morning. Not to phone you in the middle of the night.’

  ‘No, of course. I mean, it’s fine to call me whenever you need to.’ Dawn remembered to ask, ‘Was anyone hurt?’

  ‘No,’ Elspeth said. ‘At least – the agency nurse had to go to A&E.’

  ‘To A&E? Whatever for?’

  ‘To be treated for shock.’

  ‘Shock? From the break-in?’

  ‘Well, I suppose,’ Elspeth said. ‘And also because she actually saw the person.’

  Dawn sat up in bed.

  ‘She saw the person?’

  ‘Yes. She thought she heard something up at the top of the ward so she went to check and she saw someone just leaving through the doors. Then she saw the mess in the stock room and realized that the person she’d just seen was the burglar.’

  Dawn was sitting out on the edge of the bed, staring sightlessly at the wardrobe. That squeaking sound behind her, like a footstep, as she’d been leaving the ward. But she’d seen no one … nobody had followed her out …

  Elspeth said, ‘She’s given a description to the police.’

  ‘The police. I see.’

  ‘Just a moment, Sister.’ Elspeth’s voice faded. A second later she was back. ‘It’s chaos here. All the patients’ bells keep ringing. They’ve all heard what’s happened and some of them are a bit upset.’

  Dawn hardly heard her. A description to the police! Elspeth hadn’t sounded funny when she’d said it so obviously she hadn’t connected the burglar with Dawn. What sort of description had the agency nurse given? Tall woman? Jeans? Fair hair? How many people out there would fit those criteria?

  ‘Sister Torridge?’ Elspeth sounded agitated again. ‘Could you come in? Just for a while. I know it’s your day off, but I’m on my own here and the agency nurse is useless. She’s been sitting with her head between her knees ever since she came back from A&E, saying she thinks she’s going to black out.’

  The agency nurse! Dawn had never met her before, but if she went in there now, as sure as eggs were eggs, the nurse would recognize her immediately as the person she’d seen last night.

  She said sharply, ‘I’m sorry, Elspeth. I can’t possibly come in this morning.’

  ‘But, Sister,’ Elspeth’s voice rose. ‘I can’t cope here on my own. I’ve got none of the obs done and no one’s had t
heir morning meds. I can’t handle the patients and her having hysterics all over the place as well. Could you speak to her? She might listen to you.’

  Dawn hesitated. But what harm could it do? The agency nurse hadn’t heard her voice last night, had she?

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Put her on.’

  ‘I’ll see if I can get her to come to the phone. Last time she stood up she said she nearly …’ Elspeth’s voice disappeared again. Then she returned and said with relief, ‘Here she is.’

  The sound of heavy breathing came down the line.

  Dawn said, ‘Hello?’

  ‘M-matron?’

  ‘Yes, this is Sister Torridge speaking,’ Dawn said kindly. ‘I’m sorry you had such a bad experience last night.’

  ‘Oh, Sister.’ A long, jerky intake of breath. ‘It was awful. When you can’t even feel safe in your own workspace …’

  Dawn said carefully, ‘But I hear you’ve been a wonderful help to the police. I believe you gave them a full description of the burglar?’

  ‘Yes, I did. But when you think of it … What could have happened …’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I mean,’ another shuddery gasp, ‘a minute sooner and I’d have walked straight in on top of him.’

  ‘Him?’

  ‘Yes. The burglar.’

  Dawn paused.

  ‘The burglar was a man?’

  Another long, stuttery inhalation. ‘Oh, Sister. When you just think about what—’

  Dawn interrupted her. ‘Sorry – I’m sorry to ask you this, but … are you quite sure it was the burglar you saw? It couldn’t have been one of the patients? Or a doctor?’

  ‘No, definitely not. He was wearing outdoor clothes. Jeans.’

  Dawn looked down at her blue Gap denims.

  ‘And anyway,’ the nurse added, ‘he was armed.’

  ‘Armed?’

  ‘Yes. He had a huge, bulky bag. The exact sort you’d put a gun in.’

  For a moment, Dawn was speechless.

  ‘Did you actually see the gun?’ she asked. ‘Did he actually threaten you with it?’

  ‘No. But the way he looked. I know he would have. I always know. Once I had a feeling about my gran and I called her to see if she was all right, and the next day she rang back to say her neighbour had been broken into just at the exact moment I’d phoned …’ The agency nurse began to sob. ‘I’m never working at this hospital again! Never. I’m going to sue—’

  There was a muffled clattering at the end of the phone. A second voice said, ‘All right. All right now. You just sit down there and have a little rest.’

  Claudia’s brisk tones came booming down the line. ‘Good morning, Dawn. You’ve heard our news.’

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘Everyone’s rather shocked here, as you can tell. But the day staff will be in shortly. No need for you to come in on your day off.’

  ‘Thanks, Claudia. Did she … did she really see an armed man?’

  ‘Well,’ Claudia lowered her voice, ‘you know. The police were very sympathetic. Nice to have that sort of attention, if you’re with me. But the main thing is, no one was hurt. And the other thing …’ Her voice rose again. ‘I don’t think we’ll need to wait now until that budget meeting to get our CCTV cameras. Armed burglars, Dawn! I’ve called an emergency meeting this morning with the CEO. I think we’ll find that by next week there’ll be a camera on every floor of the hospital.’ Triumph filled Claudia’s tone.

  Dawn had to lie down again when she had hung up. The daisies on the wallpaper leaped and jittered in front of her eyes. But once she had recovered she began to see the episode for what it was. This was all good. It was very, very good. They were looking for a man now. In a million years, no one could connect any of this with her. Her plan had been more successful than she could ever have imagined. A classic example of two birds being killed with one stone. She had completely eliminated any possibility of Mandy or any of her other nurses being blamed for the disappearance of the morphine. And now that Claudia was on the case, the increased security that would result from the incident would make it next to impossible for anyone to steal anything else from the hospital. Once Dr Coulton heard about this, he would have to realize once and for all that no matter what his feelings were on the matter, there really was nothing more she could do for him.

  By the afternoon, Dawn’s euphoria had swung back to agitation. This whole situation was by no means over. She still had to wait for Well-wisher to receive the morphine and to hear what he had to say about it. And even if she had got the better of him for now, the truth was that he would always know what had happened to Mrs Walker. For as long as he was out there, she would never truly be safe.

  She was too restless to stay in the house. Milly seemed off form as well, creeping around the kitchen with her tail down. Dawn thought that a walk might perk both of them up. Milly, at first, seemed happy enough to be out, waving her tail and sniffing at next door’s wall where another dog had left an unpleasant-looking stain. But by the time they reached the green her pace had slowed to a crawl. Her hind legs were so stiff that she was moving almost in a waddle.

  ‘Come on, Mill.’ Dawn gave her a gentle nudge with her knee. ‘Look – what’s that over there? In the flower bed? I bet that smells nice.’

  Milly gazed listlessly at the half-eaten hot dog. Then she looked up at Dawn, her dark eyes miserable, her tail curled right in between her legs.

  ‘Not in the mood, eh?’ Dawn crouched beside her and stroked the tense, shivery body. ‘OK. Let’s get you back home.’

  Milly trotted faster on the way back, glancing up at Dawn every few feet as if to apologize for having ruined the outing. But once in the house it was clear that she wasn’t well. She lay on her side on the sheepskin rug in the sitting-room, breathing in rapid, whimpery little gasps. Dawn found one of Dora’s old anti-inflammatory tablets in the odds-and-ends drawer in the kitchen and crushed it up with the back of a spoon. She fed it to Milly mixed with a lump of bread and butter.

  ‘Poor girl.’ She ran her hand down Milly’s side, careful not to put pressure on the inflamed hip. ‘Poor old girl. You’ve been doing so well recently.’

  It was unfortunate that today was one of Milly’s bad days. Not just for the sake of the poor dog herself, but also because Dawn was desperate to get out of the house. A long walk would have been ideal, to Tooting Bec Common, perhaps, or even Wandsworth. She didn’t feel like going on her own.

  For something to do, she went upstairs, stripped the sheets and duvet from her bed and piled them along with a heap of towels into the washing-machine. Then she filled a bucket with hot water and started to mop the kitchen floor.

  ‘Coo-ee! Dawn!’

  A tapping noise from the hall. Dawn looked out. Peering through the sidelight beside the front door, hands cupped to the glass, was a stick-like figure with a permed, frizzy head. Eileen Warren, Dawn’s neighbour from across the road.

  ‘Daa-awn,’ Eileen called, tapping her nails on the window. ‘Open up. I can see you in there.’

  Dawn went out and opened the door.

  ‘Hello, Eileen. How are you?’

  ‘Just on my way back from the Somerfield.’ Eileen jiggled her tartan shopping trolley. ‘Thought I’d pop in and say hello. Lovely evening, isn’t it?’

  It was a lovely evening; the grass golden, the traffic sounds distant and muffled in the heat.

  ‘Doing anything later?’ Eileen asked.

  ‘I’ve no plans yet.’

  ‘Well, call over for a cup of tea any time you want to. You know where I am.’

  ‘Thanks very much, Eileen. I’m not sure yet what I’m doing, but I’ll bear it in mind.’

  Dawn watched her elderly neighbour hobble back across the road, pushing her shopping trolley in front of her. Eileen was a nice lady, if garrulous; she and Dora had been close friends. With Dora gone, Eileen was often lonely. She was constantly calling at number 59 with various excuses: did Dawn need anythin
g? Would she fancy coming across for tea? Often Dawn did go to Eileen’s for a meal, or even just for a cuppa and a chat. But tonight she wasn’t in the mood. She wanted to be out somewhere, away from all of this. Be someone else for a while. The sun shone down on a car parked in the street. The side windows were two bright yellow squares, like the lenses of a pair of glasses. Out of nowhere, Dawn found herself wondering: what was Will doing this evening? She had not thought of him – or not for more than a moment – since he had phoned the other day to invite her out to dinner and she had cut him off so abruptly. But one thing she knew from the way he had sounded: if she called him, he would come at once to meet her. She only had to say.

  Guilt filled her. You can’t use him like this. You might not feel that way about him but you respect him too much to treat him badly. Still, though. How wonderful would it be to have someone to go out with this evening, to have somewhere to go and something to do. She yearned to be normal. Not to be a Matron or a manager or a ward sister – just an ordinary person with no responsibilities, sitting in a crowd with nothing more pressing on her mind than what to order for a drink. Will was kind and down-to-earth and that was what she needed right now. It would be a simple, friendly night out; they could chat about farming, computers, dogs, holidays. She would make it clear that she wasn’t promising anything else. Will was a grown man, wasn’t he? He could take care of himself.

  She picked up the phone.

  ‘Will? It’s Dawn.’

  ‘Dawn!’ The eager pleasure in his voice was unmistakable. Grimly, Dawn ploughed on.

  ‘I was wondering – is that dinner you mentioned still on?’

  ‘Dinner?’ Will sounded surprised. ‘But I thought this was a bad week for you.’

  ‘Well, things are quieter now than I thought.’ She tried to keep the edge from her voice. What was the matter with him? Did he want to meet her or didn’t he?

  Will said, ‘No, no – dinner sounds great.’ He was smiling now; she could hear it. She pictured him like a Sesame Street puppet with a grin that split his face from ear to ear. ‘When would you like?’