by Amy Cross
Before Elly could ask any more questions, she heard voices in the corridor outside, and she realized that the day shift team had arrived to take over. Her first night on the job, all eight and a half hours of it, was finally over, and she'd barely even had time to sit down. As a sudden wave of tiredness hit her, she figured it didn't really matter whether or not Sharon thought she'd done the right thing. All that mattered was getting on with the job at hand and looking after the patients she had in her care right now. More than anything, she had to make sure she didn't make any more mistakes. She knew she couldn't go through all that horror again, but she figured she'd be fine so long as she double and triple checked everything.
“Okay,” Sharon said as she headed out the door. “It's knocking off time. I'm heading home to bed.”
“I'll walk to the bus stop with you.”
“I don't think so,” Sharon replied, turning to her with a fresh grin. “Remember those five large containers of medical waste in the yard?”
“Yes,” Elly replied. “Why? What about them?”
***
“It'll only take you a few minutes,” she muttered almost an hour later, as she pulled the last of the large metal containers along on its too-small wheels, dragging it toward the bay at the far end of the dark yard. “You're younger than me. It'll be child's play for you. Just go and -”
Before she could get any further, one of the wheels sprang loose, causing the weight of the container to shift violently to one side. Unable to keep it upright, Elly let go of the handle and stepped back just as the whole thing crashed down, causing its lid to swing open and spill broken blue bags of waste all over the yard's concrete floor. Sighing, Elly was able to see – thanks to a single electric light mounted on the wall nearby – that the bags had contained piles of soiled bandages and used syringes, as well as towels that had been used to mop up bodily fluids. The whole lot was now spread as far as the wall.
“Great,” she muttered, realizing that she now had at least another hour's work ahead. Checking her watch, she saw that it was almost 7am, which meant she was already well into overtime, for which she'd been told there'd be no extra pay. At least the sun was starting to rise in the distance, tinting the sky with a faint orange hue, but that was little comfort as she headed through a nearby door and started gathering fresh blue bags. As she made her way back outside, she felt a twinge of pain in her lower back.
Getting down onto her knees, she slipped a pair of gloves onto her hands and then looked at the pile of waste, trying to work out where to begin. Finally she reached down and picked up a pile of paper towels that she remembered using a few hours earlier to wipe slime that one of the patients had coughed up. As she moved the towels over to one of the new blue bags, some of the slime dribbled down onto the concrete, and she winced as she realized she could smell a foul, organic odor.
“Gross,” she muttered as she grabbed some more old towels. “Gross, gross -”
Hearing a dull thud nearby, she turned, half expecting to find Sharon or one of the day shift workers watching and laughing. Seeing no-one, she figured it must have been nothing, so she got back to work. A few minutes later, however, just as she was scooping some dirty bandages into another bag, she heard the thud again, and this time one of the nearby windows rattled slightly in its frame. Turning, she waited to spot some hint of movement, but the yard remained still and empty in the early light of dawn.
“Hello?” she called out, worried that this might be another initiation test, or that maybe Mary was nearby. “Is anyone there?”
She waited, but there was only silence.
Feeling a little uneasy, she looked back down at the pile of waste in front of her. As she reached over to pick up another pile of used bandages, she felt something wet against her knee, and she looked down to see that she'd inadvertently knelt on a dark stain. Lifting her knee a little, she saw a faint red patch on the fabric of her trousers, from a section of bandage that had been used on Rachel earlier.
“Great,” she muttered, “now I've got blood on -”
Suddenly she heard the bump again, this time closer still, and as she turned she saw that a nearby window was rattling again. A little further away, one of the doors was half open, and although she wasn't certain, she was fairly sure the same door had been closed just a moment ago. Still worried that someone was playing a prank, she got to her feet and headed over to the door, before leaning into the wash-room and glancing around.
“Hello?”
There was no-one.
“If you're looking for a job,” she continued, “I've got about twenty I could give you right now.”
She waited, before sighing and turning to go back to the pile of waste.
And then she saw it.
There was a human shape standing behind one of the frosted windows on the other side of the yard, and although she couldn't make out any details, she could tell it was staring straight at her. She opened her mouth to call out, but something stopped her; she felt deeply uncomfortable, and she was starting to wonder whether the person, whoever he or she was, had been watching her the whole time. Finally, realizing that the figure wasn't going away even though it must have realized it had been spotted, she took a couple of steps forward, heading for the door that led into the room in which the figure was standing.
“Hello?” she called out, forcing a nervous smile. “Do you... Do you want something?”
As she got closer to the glass, she squinted slightly, but she could still only make out the vaguest outline of the figure, along with dark patches for eyes and a mouth. She could already tell that it wasn't Sharon, and it definitely wasn't Mary. After a moment, she realized that it seemed to be a woman in some kind of uniform, and she thought back to the reflection she'd briefly seen in Mr. Lacy's room. Reaching out, she turned the door handle but found that it was locked.
“Who are you?” she asked, taking a deep breath as she tried to stay calm. “What do you -”
Suddenly the figure stepped closer to the frosted glass, which allowed her features to become a little clearer. To her shock, Elly realized that there appeared to be a hint of red smeared on one side of the woman's face, along with more on her chest, almost as if -
“You're wanted.”
Spinning around, she saw Doctor Carmichael standing at the other end of the yard, watching her with a smile for a moment before biting into an apple.
She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, before turning back and seeing that there was now no-one on the other side of the window's frosted glass.
“You're wanted,” Doctor Carmichael said again, stepping out into the yard with a steaming coffee cup in his hand. He tossed the half-eaten apple to the ground and kicked it away. “Her Ladyship would like a word.”
“Who?”
“The boss. The bitch. Her upstairs. Call her what you want, she wants you in her office. It's tradition, I'm afraid. All new workers get invited up there at the end of their first shift. Of course, it's an invitation you can't refuse, not if you want to keep your job.”
“Did you see someone just now?” she asked, turning back to look at the window. “There was someone in there.”
“In there?” He frowned. “I doubt it. That's part of the old building, it's been locked for years.”
“There was definitely someone in there,” she replied, determined not to seem flighty. “I didn't imagine it, there was someone on the other side of that window and she was looking at me.”
“Must've been a ghost,” Carmichael replied, before checking his watch. “You should get moving. The bitch doesn't like to be kept waiting.”
Elly stared at the window for a moment longer, before turning to him. “Where will I find her?”
“Where do you think? In her chamber. Don't worry, she probably won't hurt you.” He paused. “I suppose it's possible that I might owe you an apology.”
She turned to him.
“If I was a little short with you earlier,” he continued, “then I'm so
rry. It wasn't my intention to make you think you were doing a bad job, I just...” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Anyway, apart from that, you passed the Rachel test with flying colors.”
“The Rachel test?”
“It's mean of me, I know, but it's a good way to weed out the stragglers. Believe it or not, a couple of your predecessors actually quit on the spot when they saw that poor woman.”
“I just felt so bad for her. What actually happened?”
“We're not entirely sure. A truck driver said Rachel ran out into a road in the middle of the night, waving at him. He couldn't stop in time and part of the truck sliced off her face and part of her skull. Believe me, it's an absolute miracle that she's still alive. Whether she lasts is another matter, and I'm not sure she'll have any quality of life, but -” He glanced at his watch again. “Seriously,” he continued, “do not keep the boss waiting. We can continue this discussion another time. And good luck. You'll need it.”
***
“You wanted to see me?”
Standing in the doorway, having been told a moment earlier to enter the room, Elly saw that there was a middle-aged woman sitting behind the desk on the far side of the room. A blindingly bright desk-lamp was hazing the air, making it difficult to pick out the woman's features, but she seemed to be busy with some paperwork, not even looking up once Elly had stepped through the door.
“I can come back later,” Elly added, “I just -”
“Come closer,” the woman replied, sounding a little distracted as she continued to make some notes. “Let me get a better look at you.”
After pushing the door shut, Elly made her way across the large office until she reached the rug in front of the desk. The woman was still writing, and the haze from the lamp was still making it hard for Elly to see properly, but after a moment the woman set the lid on her pen before getting to her feet and walking around the desk. Just from the sound of her heels against the floor, Elly could already tell that it was definitely the same person who'd been stomping about on the sixth floor earlier.
“I'm so pleased to meet you,” the woman said with a smile, reaching out to shake Elly's hand. “Welcome to Middleford Cross, Ms. Blackstock. My name is Kirsten Winter. I'm a nurse myself, or I was before I took on the administrative duties of this fine institution. I'm afraid these days I'm mostly office-bound. I so rarely have a chance to get my hands dirty.”
Shaking her hand, Elly began to feel a little relieved. She'd allowed Sharon to make her nervous about meeting her boss, but so far the woman seemed friendly enough.
“I imagine,” Kirsten continued, heading back around the desk, revealing in the process a scar that ran up the back of her neck and under her hairline, “that you're finding Middleford Cross to be somewhat different to the previous hospitals at which you've worked. I've got your CV here and I note you were at Radcliffe-Norton before. From what I've heard, that's a very good facility.”
“I really enjoyed my time there.”
“I'm sure you did.” Picking up the CV, Kirsten examined it for a moment. “I imagine you'd still be working there today if it wasn't for the unfortunate incident two years ago with a certain Mr. Pickering.”
“I...” Pausing, Elly realized it had been foolish of her to think she might get away without discussing what had happened. Still, just the mention of that name was enough to make her flinch, and she could already feel the nausea stirring in her belly. “There was a disciplinary board and -”
“I know,” Kirsten replied, “believe me, I looked into the matter before I decided to hire you. You were young, just out of training, and your supervisor was found to be culpable for what happened. At most, you were guilty of naivety in not challenging his decision and in allowing his mistake to lead to such an unfortunate incident. Tell me, Nurse Blackstock, was it a one-off or do you generally have trouble challenging authority figures?”
“I...” She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. “I learned from what happened.”
“Your supervisor faced charges for criminal negligence and ended up being sentenced to six months in prison, but you were simply given a reprimand and fired. In the circumstances, one might say that you got off rather lightly.”
“I was only -”
“A man died, Ms. Blackstock.”
Elly paused, starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable. “Yes,” she said cautiously, trying to choose her words with care, “and it should never have happened.”
“Of course it shouldn't. As I understand the situation, Mr. Rodney Pickering was already paralyzed from the neck down.”
“Yes, but -”
“So he had no idea that you and your supervisor had placed him in a bath filled with freshly-boiled water?” She paused, eying Elly with a hint of concern. “I read the report in its entirety. Apparently it took several minutes for him to notice his skin turning red and floating off, at which point it was far too late to save him. The poor man literally boiled to death with a smile on his face.”
“I shouldn't have left the room,” Elly replied. “If I'd stayed, I'd have realized sooner. I might have been able to do something. I broke protocol, the rules stated someone should always have been in the room with him.”
“Everyone breaks the rules now and then,” Kirsten pointed out. “The trick in life is to know which ones to break, and which ones to keep.”
“I made a mistake.”
“The medical board cleared you of culpability,” Kirsten continued. “Your supervisor was the one who heated the water, and he's also the one who ordered you to leave the patient alone to fetch some equipment that he'd forgotten. I believe he was also found outside, taking an unauthorized cigarette break, at the time?”
“But I -” Elly paused, feeling as if she was close to tears. “I'm sorry, I didn't expect to have to talk about it today.”
“Does this conversation make you uncomfortable?”
Elly took a deep breath, trying to remain composed.
“It's clear to me,” Kirsten added, “that you still carry the burden of that man's death.”
“If I'd just -”
“And you're right to do so.”
Elly opened her mouth to reply, but the words stuck. After the accident, she'd been told constantly by colleagues that she should move on, that she shouldn't blame herself. She'd become so accustomed to their words of comfort, she hadn't been prepared for someone to say anything different.
“You're right,” Kirsten added with a shrug, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “If you'd done what you were supposed to do, if you'd taken better care of Mr. Pickering, he'd still be alive today. Your supervisor might have made the more egregious error, but that hardly excuses you, now does it? There are reasons for the various rules that are in place, and evidently you felt those rules didn't apply to you. How long had you been out of training by that point?”
“I... Six months.”
“So no time at all, really. I imagine you were cocky -”
“No,” Elly replied quickly, interrupting her, “I mean... I made a mistake, that's all.”
“That's all? So now you're defending yourself?”
“No -”
“Make your mind up.”
“I should have been there,” she continued, trying not to let herself get flustered, “I know I should. I should have stayed in the room.”
“And a man died because you didn't.” Kirsten paused. “You made a mistake, and mistakes happen. The important thing is to learn from them. Everyone who comes to work here at Middleford Cross has some form of mistake in their past, one that had a significant impact on another human being. Most of the staff would be considered un-hirable at any other establishment, but at Middleford Cross we understand that mistakes can't be avoided. Still, there is one very important rule that we do have here, and it's one that I insist you observe.” She paused again. “No more mistakes. Not one, do you understand? Break the rules if necessary, we all have to cut corners from time to time, b
ut do not make another mistake. If you do, the consequences will be far greater and more devastating, for you personally, then you can possibly imagine.”
“I...” Elly took a deep breath. “I understand.”
“No, you don't.” Kirsten stared at her for a moment, before smiling. “And let's hope that never has to change. And relax, I give this little pep talk to all the new hires, you're no different. Now I imagine you're tired after your first shift, so I should let you go. I hope to hear good things about you, Nurse Blackstock. Believe me, people talk around this place and opinions travel fast.”
“Of course,” Elly replied, taking a step back. “I just hope you know that I'm very grateful to you for hiring me, and -”
“Yes, yes,” Kirsten said, sounding a little bored now as she waved her away, “I'm sure you are. Now go away, I'm busy.”
Heading to the door, Elly paused for a moment before looking back at her. “There's one other thing,” she continued. “Earlier, I was sent to a storeroom on the fifth floor of C-wing, and on my way there I... Well, I bumped into someone in one of the corridors.”
At this, Kirsten looked over at her again, and it was clear from her expression that she knew what was coming. “Go on.”
“Her name was Mary,” Elly continued, “and... Well, she wanted me to give you a message.”
“Was it, perchance, to do with her having something that I want?”
She nodded.
“What a surprise. Did she say anything else?”
“Just that she'd never let you have it, and something about someone named Annie.”
A faint flicker of amusement crossed Kirsten's face. “Mary certainly rambles on and on,” she said with a smile. “She never really changes her tune.”
“Do you mind if I ask... I mean, who is she? What is it that she's got, and who's Annie?”