Major Surgery

by Lola Keeley

  The group outside her door departs and Veronica closes it firmly, pressing her back against it and letting out a steady sigh. Cassie’s dived into action again, this time with even less of a plan than her confronting of Travers. Veronica can’t help feeling that this lack of planning, the utter departure from strategy, is going to make all this a living hell.

  An hour passes and still no sign of Cassie.

  Veronica has had quite enough of waiting, and the panic of thinking she’d be blamed somehow for all this has her nerves jangling even now. No, she’s always been one to fight her own corner, and for those…people she cares about. Today is not going to be the exception.

  Jean has the decency to put her questioning on hold, sensing that there’s something amiss with all these sudden complaints. Cassie’s take-charge routine hasn’t exactly hurt, and Veronica has been left to roam her modest office and try to see a way out. Only she’s running out of ways to distract herself. Her in-tray is empty, her pens are lined up by colour, and she’s finally tackled the uncharted territory of the ‘miscellaneous crap’ drawer at the bottom of her desk, the hiding place for all the things even Veronica at her most organised doesn’t have the heart to deal with. She checks one more time that her phone isn’t on silent, leaning against her desk.

  Eventually there’s only one thing left to do, and that’s march into Wesley’s office herself. It’s one thing to let Cassie fight her own battles, which she has admirably. It’s quite another to let the smug little twerp come after Veronica and her career, one she’s worked her arse off to keep quite spotless.

  “Wesley. No, don’t get up,” she greets him, strolling into his office and closing the door behind her. She doesn’t hurry, forcing herself to look almost bored as she comes across and drops herself into the visitor’s chair.

  “You know, I could have sworn I just sent the Head of Surgical Services and security to talk to you, Ms Mallick. It seems you’ve been playing around with the budgets, and setting someone else up to take the fall.”

  His patronising little sneer is so smug that Veronica almost immediately loses her cool. Only a lifetime of holding her tongue to defeat overconfident men with too much power over her allows her to keep the peace.

  “I’ve always enjoyed that dry sense of humour of yours,” Veronica says. “I think we both know who’s been cooking the books, and I’ve never been much of a chef. Oh, you’ve been subtle—no doubt about that. But I saw your long game right from the start, and I’ve been leaving you to it while it’s been serving my own interests. Until you tried to drop me in it, at least.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Oh good, she’s actually surprised him.

  “You’re not seriously saying you’re rooting for the Head of Trauma to fail?” Wesley stares at her in disbelief.

  “I’ve wanted rid of her from the start. From before then, even. I pushed for Peter in that role, you know I did. I did everything to get him ready, short of taking the damn interview for him. She comes in here, turns everything upside down. Laughs in the face of the way we’ve been running things. I’ve never been so insulted.” She scrunches her face in the most long-suffering expression she can think of, the expression usually reserved for Danny’s unwashed football kits and self-diagnosing patients with too much Google access.

  Wesley comes out from behind his desk, regarding her with no small amount of suspicion. Veronica stares him down, not flinching in her supposed offence over Cassie.

  “For someone insulted, you’ve certainly been hanging around with her a lot.”

  “Know thine enemy. Didn’t you tell me that, back when A&E was trying to swallow my department?”

  He preens. Pride really does go before a fall, or Veronica’s hoping like hell that it does.

  “If anything, I was helping you,” Veronica continues. “Keeping the major distracted, giving her something to concern herself with outside of work. And how do you show gratitude for that, Wesley? By framing me.” She tuts, for the added disappointed governess effect. God knows it always works on the public-school drips.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. The beauty of blaming you, Veronica, is that no one would really believe it. Your record is exemplary. Sure, there’d be whispers, but ultimately the goal was to cause enough murkiness around Taylor that they’d pay her off and bump her out to the sticks somewhere.” Some of the tension has leached out of his shoulders, and as he talks his hands are back to their usual fussy, expressive gestures instead of the balled fists when she first approached.

  Veronica shrugs and gives him a sharp look. “Well, a little bit of fraud isn’t going to get the job done. Money was a good way to go, but it’s so easy to pretend she just didn’t know, or made an innocent mistake. They’ll slap her on the wrist and have someone supervise her spending. No. I want her gone, and I want Peter back where he should have been all along.”

  His eyes light up at that. Finally she’s hit on a motivation that Wesley understands: pouting over not getting one’s own way.

  “You really are a terrible loser, Veronica.” Wesley almost beams at her in his moment of understanding. “Well, I don’t like losing, either. That’s where you underestimate me. You always do that, Veronica. You think because I don’t choose to get my hands dirty on the wards that I’m not a real doctor like the rest of you. Or that because I’m currently deputy that I won’t make a fine CEO some day.”

  “Wesley, I’ve never—”

  “No, it’s fine. If that’s how you have to think to compete with me, so be it. But I’m not some scheming second-year thinking up pranks for the new kid. There’s almost a quarter million in dodgy transactions with Taylor’s name attached. There’s no chance she’s walking away from that, whether you’re in the frame or not.”

  “See, this is why I had to leave it to you. You had the idea, and you’re the one to execute it.” He’s lapping it up as he leans against the front of his desk, hands clasped in front of him. Veronica feels sick, but pushes on. “A man like you, no one thinks twice or questions his integrity. Someone like me? Well, as hard as I work you know there are still people who only see the colour of my skin, or the fact that I sleep with women. That’s why pointing the finger at me was your backup. I see that now. Clever move.”

  “You’re selling yourself short,” Wesley says. “I chose you because you’d weather any allegations, putting the blame back on the new girl by default if it came to it. Still, Taylor will be out on her backside soon enough. Then perhaps you and I can look to the future here at St Sophia’s. Do a little house cleaning elsewhere?”

  “Trouble is, Ms Army Medic is already talking her way out of it. Already pleading her innocence to anyone who’ll listen. It won’t be the first time the Trust has looked the other way when it comes to financials.”

  “You don’t really think that’s all I have planned?” Wesley scoffs. “Oh dear, you really haven’t given me anything like enough credit.”

  He’s so secure in his status, his privilege. He’s a wealthy white man, albeit one with debts he’s had to steal to cover, and not for one minute does he see this rebounding on him. Veronica wants to punch him in the teeth.

  “And what else can you do from this office, Wesley? Give her some nightshifts? Take her best staff away?”

  “No, what you people on the ground never seem to realise is that you’re all incredibly vulnerable. When doctors make mistakes, it costs the hospital and the Trust dearly. So what’s the best way to get rid of a doctor?”

  “I don’t know what you mean…” Veronica suspects she actually does. The man has gone from secure in his ivory tower to coldly unhinged in the span of this conversation, and every nerve ending is screaming at her to start backing out of there. Fast.

  “Doctors doing bad admin can be fixed. Doctors who don’t provide correct patient care, who lose a patient or two that they absolutely shouldn’t, well…they get shipped ou
t much quicker. It’s the liability.”

  Her blood runs cold. He can’t be saying what she thinks he is. Veronica just has to hold her nerve a little longer.

  “So you’re saying—”

  “That a few extra patients suddenly not making it, due to something that looks negligent? That would be Act Two. Taylor gone, the Trust not looking too hard for fear of further scandal, and I’ve cleared my own financial tight spot in the process. It’s quite brilliant.”

  “How would you make it happen?” Veronica sounds every bit as stunned as she feels. “It’s not that easy, not really.”

  “Well, since you’re so determined to be helpful, perhaps that’s where you come in. You two operate together. What if you nicked something on her side of the body cavity while she wasn’t quite looking? She’d blame herself, and so would the post mortem.”

  This, somehow, feels much worse. This is a bone-deep, rising-from-the-toes dread. The worst part is that she didn’t even see it coming. Her body seems to be rejecting the very idea. It’s like she wants to throw up, but she’s forgotten how. In all the years she’s held a scalpel, not once has she looked at a life hanging in the balance and wondering “what if?”. Saving them has been her only job, her only priority. To do anything other than that, for any reason, is beyond unthinkable.

  He carries on, as though he’s only suggested they host the Christmas party somewhere different this year instead of something so sickening, so far over the line that there’s no hope of clawing him back.

  “You should check your email, though. I’ve had a draft of some of those Cassie emails she didn’t send stashed in there. Doesn’t make you look great, but if you’re coming in with me on this, it’s only fair we get rid of that little distraction.”

  Veronica pulls out her phone and checks. Sure enough, the first item in her drafts is a copy of the email she received during her date with Cassie.

  She has to focus now on getting out of this room. Someone who could so casually suggest a spot of murder by malpractice could be capable of anything. Except now, even more than when she walked in, Veronica has to convince Wesley that she’s on his side. God knows what he’ll do if he suspects otherwise.

  Veronica purses her lips and pretends to consider his offer. Can she really bring herself to say it? Or will he notice she’s wavering and lose his temper? The seconds seem to drag as she puts on a show of mulling it over.

  “What would you have done, by the way? If I hadn’t been wise to your bigger scheme, and hadn’t come in to see you today? I assume there was another plan.”

  “Of course.” Wesley puffs out his chest again at the opportunity to brag. “But I can’t give away all my secrets, Veronica. I’ll save that for when we’re further down the line in this new partnership of ours.”

  “If it comes to that,” Veronica says, hoping she won’t have to stall for much longer. She should have prepared for longer before barging in on Wesley.

  There’s a faint commotion outside the door. He’s going to clam up now, and Veronica moves towards the doors.

  “Now, Veronica,” he calls after her as she retreats. “Don’t get cold feet on me now, I’ve just shown you some good faith.”

  The last three words are amplified through Cassie’s phone as she shoves the door open, striding in with security hot on her heels.

  Taking a step back, Veronica slowly lifts her phone out of her pocket and shows it to Wesley. The fact it’s already on a call, and recording, is clear from the phone and microphone symbol. She called Cassie on her way over, told her to keep the line open and on speaker, and listen in with Mr Pedersen or Jean, or any kind of official witness.

  It only takes him a second to put the pieces together, and he howls like a cornered animal as they all crowd into his office.

  “You bitch!”

  For all she was bracing herself, Veronica doesn’t see his wild-eyed lunge coming.

  He’s only a matter of inches away when Cassie comes flying in to tackle him, as sleek and tense as an arrow finding its mark.

  THUD.

  She makes impact. Wesley gasps. The bruising blow to his ribs drives all the air from his lungs, if his pained expression is anything to go by. Cassie’s bruising tackle sends him crumpling to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The woman has follow-through.

  Then the persistent idiot actually tries to get back up to take a swing at Veronica, but Cassie puts paid to that with a shove, followed by her foot stamping down on his wrist. She doesn’t lift her boot until security are on either side of Wesley, ready to scoop him up and out.

  He pouts and whimpers like a petulant child as the guards pull him roughly into position, each of them taking an arm and ready to drag him if necessary.

  “Bitch!” He spits at Veronica once he realises they aren’t letting go any time soon.

  “Oh yes, I can be,” she says. “But better a bitch than a thief. And a potential murderer.”

  “I want. My. Lawyer.” Wesley pouts around each word, holding his wrist where Cassie made impact. “Not that you can prove a thing! Secrets recordings aren’t admissible in court!” he persists, even as security start to drag him out.

  “No, but they really narrow it down so the police know who to arrest,” Veronica calls after him. “Not much room for doubt there. Pompous moron.”

  “You okay?” Cassie is in front of her suddenly, Wesley forgotten as she runs her hands up and down Veronica’s arms.

  “I will be. Fuck, he was really going to hurt people just to cover up his theft. Like it’s not bad enough he’s stealing from an underfunded service in the first place.” Veronica feels hot and cold all over, like the evening before getting the flu in earnest.

  Cassie pulls her into a hug, and to hell with witnesses because it’s all that Veronica needs right now. She holds back tears, but only just. There’ll be time enough for that later. Travers hasn’t just sickened her; he’s broken her heart. Veronica has always wanted to believe the best of her colleagues here in the trenches of the NHS with her.

  Bad enough each successive government expects them to perform miracles—without queues or waiting time, of course—on tuppence and a shoestring. This is effectively stealing a transplant from a dying man, a cancer treatment from a woman in critical condition, the difference between a child who lives long enough to grow up or not.

  “Not really one for the damsel-in-distress role, are you?” Cassie says, looking out at the busy reception area where everything is about the usual level of chaos. “But bloody hell, marching in here on your own.

  “I’m just glad you understood what I barked down the phone at you. I didn’t even wait to see if you’d heard me.” Veronica sees now how much her plan had really been flying by the seat of her pants. “And I should probably be offended that he really thought I’m as twisted as he is.”

  “I think he liked the idea of you being in the gang with him. It can be a lonely business, all this plotting. Thank God he didn’t come after my patients,” Cassie says, her shoulders high and her jaw set firmly. “That, I could never forgive myself for.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Veronica doesn’t want to be in his office, doesn’t particularly want to be anywhere near the hospital right now. Her chest is tight, and her eyes are stinging. The revulsion and panic she’s been fighting for the whole conversation won’t be held back anymore.

  She crosses to the small leather couch in one corner. Sitting down before her knees give out altogether, she lets her head fall into trembling hands and starts to cry.

  Chapter 30

  Once Veronica has caught her breath and cried it out a little, Cassie leads her back to their end of the hospital and finds a quiet bay on the Trauma ward. Behind the blue curtain, Veronica finishes the job of pulling herself back together, and Cassie has to admit that it’s something of a privilege to see it in action. Veronica has proven to be a remarkabl
e woman, one that Cassie’s lucky to know, never mind be involved with.

  “I’m so, so glad you’re okay,” Cassie keeps her voice low as she leans in for a slow, tender kiss. “Now we know what he was plotting, I should never have let you face him alone.”

  “Well, you did too.” Veronica isn’t going to be written off that easily. She had a horrible conversation, not a knockdown fist fight, after all. “And let me? That will be the day, Major. Although I do appreciate your rugby-league skills.”

  “Please,” Cassie says with a scoff. “I’m a union girl, all the way. I just hope I broke his bloody wrist.”

  A moment later the curtain draws back a little. Pauline gives them both a reassuring smile.

  “Dr Pedersen says he can come down if you like, but it might be better to talk in his office. He’ll make himself free as soon as you’re ready.”

  “Didn’t you…?” Veronica turns to Cassie.

  “He heard almost everything,” Cassie replies. “Before your call we’d been talking—there were already suspicions about Travers. He’s been taking out loans, second mortgages. Some of the companies called HR to verify his income.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Travers?” Cassie confirms. “He’s in a cell at Paddington Green. They reckon he’s a flight risk, with his money and connections, so no bail is likely.”

  Veronica nods. She grabs Cassie’s hand and pulls her closer. “Thank you.”

  Cassie clears her throat, since they still have company. Pauline is making her excuses, but Veronica simply turns to her while very deliberately kissing Cassie on the cheek.

  “Go on,” Veronica says with a sigh. “But if you won the office sweepstake, I want a nice bottle of red from your winnings.”

  “Of course, Ms Mallick.” Pauline retreats as the very picture of professionalism, but there’s a squeal and loud giggling the moment the curtain closes again.

  “So we’re out, then?” Cassie frees her hand so she can cradle Veronica’s face with both, before kissing her very gently on the mouth. “I think I like that.”