by C F White
Kez cocked his head, disbelief bursting from his exasperated huff. “’Fraid I don’t have coffee. I can do a tea, but then I have to get to work.”
“Yeah, no sweat. I’ll just head back to the centre or somethin’, see what they got for me?” No, he wouldn’t. He had no plans to go back there. Ever. He gave a winning smile to hide the lie.
“Do you have to check in with your parole officer?” Kez held Callum’s gaze for as long as it took for Callum to feel shit about it. Which could have been counted in milliseconds.
Scratching his fingernails, Callum noted the dirt entrenched beneath and it was a painful reminder of who he really was. “I don’t have one. Not anymore. Nose clean for the whole of my license. Signed off for a civilian life.”
Kez smiled. Genuinely. “Good. Then you can stay here.” He stood. “As long as you need.”
Callum had no response. None that he could think to give right then. He had to keep letting the man think this could all work out. Callum knew different. Callum knew that as soon as Kez turned his back, he’d be outta there quicker than his jury’s deliberation time had taken. Five minutes.
“Cal?”
Callum hadn’t realised he’d been staring at Kez’s bare feet, so dragged his gaze upward to look the man in the eye. “Yeah?”
“You got a GP you can go see?”
Callum laughed.
“Walk-in centre then?”
“Forget it, Kez. I’m all good.”
“I know you, Cal. You may not be that eighteen-year-old I once knew, but I still know you. The only way you’ll go see a doctor is if I make you. So, here’s the deal. Stay here, get some rest, eat whatever. Then, one p.m., come meet me for lunch at the hospital.”
“Kez—”
“If you don’t show, I’ll assume you’ve buggered off. That’s up to you.” Kez meandered to the living room door, shoving it open with his stump. He seemed to use that arm more without the artificial limb attached. It was more how Callum had remembered him, not so stiff. “If you do come meet me, I won’t call the centre and tell them where you stayed last night.” He widened all-knowing eyes.
Fuck.
He guessed he had no choice then. He couldn’t have that trace on him. Not just for his sake. Not now Kez had got into the mix. Again.
Fuck this life.
* * * *
Whilst not technically fully trusting Callum, Kez had no choice but to leave the bloke in his flat while he went to work. Was it foolish to think that nothing could happen in his absence? Callum had only been there for a few hours, he’d not contacted anyone—none that Kez was aware of anyway—and he looked in a bad enough way that he’d be stupid to even entertain the thought of doing anything untoward in Kez’s home.
Hasn’t stopped him before.
Kez shook his aunt’s voice from his mind and instead recalled what Callum had said—nose clean for five years—as he boarded the usual stuffy and overcrowded prime-time commuter Central Line. Lucky it was only a few stops to Holborn, so it wasn’t enough time to build up a hot sweat in the soaring May temperatures that would be visible through his long-sleeved shirt. He had to go long—it covered the prosthetic enough that the hand looked natural. If he rolled up his sleeve, the lack of hair and the lighter brown colour would scream fake. And if there was anything Kez couldn’t stand, it was people staring at him.
He arrived at Holborn a bit flustered, but remembered to stop at the corner bakery and grab a four-pack of their glazed donuts to soften the blow of having left Lisa in the lurch yesterday. She was nice enough, but she’d let him know if he’d pissed her off. She stood up to the doctors as well, held her own against the sky-high egos that roamed the hospital corridors and looked down on those who only did the typing, rather than the life-saving. Without them, though, the hospital wouldn’t run as smoothly as it did. And Lisa took delight in making everyone aware of that fact.
St. Cross Children’s Hospital stood at a crossroads tucked away from the main financial district of Holborn. Chuck a left out of the station and there’s all the high-rise offices where people make their millions. A little farther still and the British Library came into view. But over the road and to the right, then the gleaming glass frontage with painted murals of, smiley, happy waving children welcomed Kez. The first day Kez had come for his interview here, he’d known he wouldn’t ever want to work anywhere else—unless he was forced to.
Which was a touchy subject, what with all the cuts to the NHS. Rumours circling the support staff offices were that St. Cross was next on the list for an overhaul in staffing and there would be a change in management any day now. Dr. Rawlings certainly seemed on edge about it. But then the guy was always on edge. Even much more so since a few months back.
As Kez leapt over the road to the entrance, nodding to the driver of the ambulance who had let him pass, he bumped into one of the cardiology nurses waiting outside the swishing double doors.
“Hey, Kwesi.” Ollie beamed at him.
Kez had used to have a crush on the newest nurse on the cardiology ward. Looks wise, he was Kez’s type. Kez seemed to be attracted to blonds with bright smiles. Maybe it was an opposites-attracts thing. Or maybe it came from who he’d first fallen in love with… Nope, not going there. But the feelings for Ollie were totally face-value. Whilst Kez liked the view, he also had a thing for the rough and the edgy. God help me.
“Ollie. How’s things?”
Ollie held on to two take-out coffee cups and blew into the hole of one. “Good. Night shift ran over. Tough one, but it’s the last for me for a few days, which is good ’cause I’m moving house.” Ollie’s grin grew so wide it was hard for Kez not to match it.
“Congratulations. I take it that means he finally asked you?”
Ollie shrugged, doing his best to remain nonchalant, but his enigmatic smile told a different story. “Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Me always travelling to his, or his to mine. First I filled up a drawer, then one side of his wardrobe. Might as well just move in together. We can even afford a house!”
Kez trailed the plastic bag of donuts to his wrist and gave Ollie’s arm a squeeze. “I’m happy for you, Ollie. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, Kez.” A car stopped up beside the road, the window lowering and a mound of dark curly hair wafting out in the breeze. “Oh, my ride.” Ollie skipped off to open the passenger door, not before turning and pointing a finger from around one of the take-out mugs. “I hear there’s a new man on the horizon. Will I meet this one?”
Kez’s heart leapt. It had been the flashing image of Callum crossing his mind producing that reaction. Which is wrong on so many levels. Then he realised Ollie hadn’t been referring to Callum at all. He didn’t know him for a start. Ollie and the hospital were part of Kez’s new life. The one he’d forged without his best friend, and he wasn’t sure the two meshed together. Should they even meet? Would that cause the world to implode?
“Kez?”
Snapping to, Kez shook himself out and realised that it was the usual St. Cross gossip bouncing around the sterile corridors again. Maybe IT traced my email exchange with Raff? He smiled to cover up the sinking feeling in his gut. Yesterday he’d had such a different reaction to thinking about Rafferty.
“I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough.”
“Perfect. We can double date!” Ollie slipped into the car, offered a wave then kissed his boyfriend and the car sped off.
Kez inhaled a deep breath. A double date sounded good. Ollie would certainly get on with Rafferty. He’d be easy to take to meet colleagues, with him actually being one. He’d be perfect. Kez had had images of cooking for Raff, of exchanging cheesy gifts, of walking hand in hand through Spitalfields Market. All those things that real couples did. There’d be no complications there. But will it ever be as strong? Shaking his head, he rushed into work. Several winding corridors later, a lift to the second floor, and Kez slammed the bag of donuts onto his desk. Lisa was over by the water cooler, filling her usua
l litre bottle of the stuff.
“Peace offering.” He held up the bag.
“You should probably give that to the parents. We’ve got a backlog.” She sat and tapped away on her keyboard, not giving Kez much attention. Well, even less than she normally did. Yeah, they were busy, but a little informal chit-chat hadn’t ever been frowned upon. They needed it to get through the day. “Your man came in looking for you yesterday.”
“Yeah. I know. Sorry, Lisa, but it was my aunt. She was in that building.” Kez wouldn’t normally have cried poor me, but he couldn’t have a whole day of Lisa being glum.
She peered over the screen with a look of both having put her foot in it and flickering concern in her green eyes. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah. They’re keeping her in hospital for a couple of days, then she’s being taken in by a friend of hers from church.”
“I’m sorry, Kez.” She did soften her severe scrutiny and Kez had to hide his small lingering feeling of triumph. Not many people got through her razor-sharp scowl. “It’s just with everything here at the moment, I’m on edge. Sorry. Peace offering accepted. And if you need to go early, I’ll take your patients. Although”—she pointed the tip of her pen over the desk—“you can deal with Rawlings. Bad mood does not cut this one today.”
“Really?”
“He was here all night.”
“Thought he wasn’t due for nightshift for a couple of days?” Kez logged into his computer and checked the doctor’s schedule. He was sure he wouldn’t have overlapped his night shifts with day appointments. But then he had been distracted lately, what with Raffety, then what happened yesterday…
“He’s taking a nap in his office and said for you to wake him when you’re in.”
“Great,” Kez grumbled. The last thing he needed was a tired and grouchy doctor. At least he had several peace offerings he could use. Except, Rawlings was a doctor, wasn’t he? A cardiologist at that. Did he partake in things that weren’t particularly good for him? Kez realised just then that he didn’t really know an awful lot about the man he serviced every day—other than the fact that he looked good in a pair of chinos.
After a few email checks, a few schedule reshuffles and a call to the hospital to check on his aunt—who was apparently doing well, all things considered—Kez made the daunting walk to Dr. Rawlings’ office to wake him up for clinic. Rawlings had his own hideaway that he often used to lock himself away from patients and staff. It wasn’t his examination room that was situated next to the main ward offices, but farther down the corridor and out of view of the general public, behind the staff nurses’ quarters and changing rooms. It was where he did his ‘thinking’ and whatever else it was that doctors did when they weren’t saving lives. Of course, Kez knew there was a hell of a lot of admin in saving children’s lives. Kez was the one who had to compile it after Rawlings threw the files at him, after all.
Balancing the box of donuts on his prosthetic, he tapped his knuckles on the door. Yes, he was meant to wake the bloke up, but he also didn’t want to get his head bitten off whilst doing it. When no reply came his way, he peered in through the gaps left by the various notices and whatnot stuck on the door from behind to distort the glass window. Movement. Definite movement.
Kez stood back and waited.
“Yes.” Dr. Rawlings’ tired bark came through the wood.
“It’s Kwesi, Doctor. With…supplies.” He winced at the sheer awkwardness.
Shuffling came from behind the door, followed by a cough, and Kez seriously hadn’t wanted to catch the view of Rawlings’ ever-so-toned torso. Luckily it was covered up just as quickly when the doctor flung on a chequered shirt and buttoned it together before yanking open the door. Kez didn’t have time to compose himself, or adjust himself, or at least attempt to move the box of donuts to a location better suited to cover up his instinctive reaction to the sight.
“Am I late?” Dr. Rawlings looked whacked. Tired. And much older than he usually did. Always so well presented, so debonair, the doctor was the most eligible bachelor on the ward. It was quite a shock to see him so dishevelled. He flattened his dark hair back into his accustomed slide-over and scrubbed a hand over his salt-and-pepper stubble. Kez had just witnessed the man’s vulnerable side seep out and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“Not yet.” Kez smiled. “I thought you might want a little time to prepare. And perhaps, one of these?” He lifted the box.
“Sugary treats first thing, eh? Who told you my secret?” Dr. Rawlings opened the door wider and ushered Kez inside.
Kez walked through, placing the box down on the desk, and cast a glance around. Books were piled up from the floor, mostly medical journals to do with the cardiovascular system, paediatric medicine and various other professional standards of controlled medicines. A few files littered the surface of the desk along with his stethoscope and examination equipment. Nothing much out of the ordinary, except the open suitcase piled high with clothes and the sofa that was made up like a bed.
“Are you sleeping here?” Kez couldn’t get the surprise out of his voice. The office looked like it had housed the doctor for a week, not just overnight.
“Sometimes.” Dr. Rawlings washed his hands at the sink, splashing cold water over his face and neck. He held Kez’s gaze through the reflection in the mirror. “It’s been a busy time.”
Kez knew liars. He currently had a pathological liar staying in his maisonette and Kez had spent the best part of his life having ignored the tell-tale signs. So he wasn’t surprised that he’d picked up on the doctor’s shifty eye flicker and rapid blinking. Classic sign. Rawlings ripped the green paper towel from the holder, turned from the sink and dried his hands all the while counteracting his previous body language signals by not faltering his gaze from its tight fix on Kez.
“Listen, Doctor, I should apologise.” Kez hung his head, not through shame but more to take another sheepish gander around the room to decipher how long the doctor had been camping out in his office rather than going home. Kez was well aware he had a home. He often had to send letters and paperwork there and, as it was situated in one of the more affluent areas of North West London, Kez had to wonder why the doctor would prefer to be cramped on a double-seater sofa in a poky NHS office. Maybe he was redecorating?
Or, maybe, you should mind your own damn business. He’s a grown man and can do what he wants. Want him snooping around in your life? Noooo.
“I rushed out yesterday without cancelling the appointments.”
“Yes, you did.” And there was that sternness the doctor was famed for, back again. It felt a little like home.
Kez quickly replaced his creeping smile with a more accustomed solemn frown. “The fire. In Branton. That was my aunt’s building.”
The way Dr. Rawlings eased away from the sink and his entire being seemed to droop gave Kez an unexpected warm and fuzzy feeling. He’d never had a father figure, but he’d just had an inkling to what it might be like for a protective alpha male to care for him.
“My sympathies, Kwesi. Is she okay?”
“Thankfully, yes. She managed to get out. She’s at Newham. They’re checking her over before discharge. She’ll stay with a friend.”
The doctor nodded. “Do you need time to be with her? I can put in a recommendation to the support team that you need some compassionate leave and have a temporary secretary put in your place. Agency staff.” Dr. Rawlings gave the faintest of eye rolls. “They do seem to like agency staff around here.”
“No, no, it’s fine. She’s safe and they’ll no doubt rehouse her soon. She’s elderly, and has a broken ankle, brittle bones, so they won’t leave her long, I’m sure. So I’ll be back to vetting parents for you right from today.” Kez smiled. He liked to be busy and useful. Having felt like a spare part for most of his childhood, working in such an important role now gave him a sense of purpose and a reason to have gone through all he had.
“Good. If you need anything, just ask.” The doctor went to hi
s desk and reshuffled a few files. “Has she been checked over for smoke inhalation? Sometimes that can lay dormant for a while.”
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sure they have.” It was Callum who hadn’t been checked. Kez had taken him straight to his house and let him fall asleep on the sofa.
“Actually, Doctor, I know this is a real big ask…”
Dr. Rawlings, now straightened and appearing back to normal, raised a dark eyebrow.
“My friend. Well, an old friend. An acquaintance. Someone I used to know…” Why am I babbling so much? “He lived there too and, well, he had nowhere to go, so I took him back to mine and…he’s been coughing. Lots. Eyes red.”
“Get him to his GP.”
“That’s the thing. He doesn’t have one.”
“Then he should get one”—Dr. Rawlings tucked a file under his arm—“and go to a walk-in surgery right now. I am sure he would be fast-tracked through to see someone.”
“Yes. Thing is, well, he’s not much of a people person. He doesn’t like being poked and prodded.” For good reason, Kez didn’t add. “I thought that perhaps if I got him here, on the pretence of a paid lunch, that maybe he’d let you check him over?”
“I’m a paediatric cardiology consultant. I work with children. And hearts. Not adults and lungs.”
“But you’re a doctor. You’d know if he needs help, right?” Kez widened hopeful eyes. Whilst he was fairly certain he’d never get Callum through a hospital door, St. Cross was a different story. He’d never even know he was being examined here. And it wouldn’t go down in any file that Callum avoided like he did authority figures.
Dr. Rawlings sighed. “Do I even have a gap in my schedule today?”
“There’s a fifteen-minute window after your management meeting at one.”
“Shit.” Dr. Rawlings hung his head and he may have even added a brief foot stamp, but Kez wouldn’t like to presume. Maybe he was adjusting his feet within his tan brown pointed Oxfords?