by Lucy Dawson
‘You’re warning me not to bully people?’ I was incredulous. ‘Just what is it about women like me that so enrages reactionary men of a certain age, like you?’
He refused to answer. Just stared me down. I shook my head in disbelief, turned my back on him and walked from the room, only to hurry to the loos once I was out of sight, where I threw up at having confronted him: the adrenaline overwhelming me, just like old times. A couple of staff members came in and looked at me curiously, but didn’t say anything, probably assuming I had a Christmas party hangover too. One of them whispered something to her colleague, who laughed. I’m sure she wasn’t talking about me at all, but it felt like a taste of things to come.
I convinced myself everyone must have found out what I’d done and waited on tenterhooks for the rest of the day to be summoned by the Medical Director… but nothing. Five p.m. arrived and I was slipping on my coat to escape before Hamish returned from theatre, when Tan appeared.
He looked around him before whispering, ‘You told them that Nathan has cameras in his consulting room?’
‘Yes,’ I admitted.
He gave a low whistle and looked at me in disbelief.
‘It’s true,’ I began. ‘He—’
He cut me off by simply holding up a hand. ‘I really wanted you to come and work here,’ he said quietly. ‘I’d like you to remember that.’
Somehow Tan’s gentle disappointment was worse than Hamish’s abuse. He hadn’t even wanted to hear my side of the story. As I parked on the other side of the cathedral to pick up Cass and Al, unable to get any closer because the city was full of Christmas shoppers, it was with a growing sense of disquiet that I walked across the green in the dark, towards the school. What if Ewan was right? Suppose they didn’t investigate Nathan and everyone closed ranks? What would I do then?
I pulled my coat more tightly around me at the bitterly cold wind gusting across the path. Despite it only being the twenty-first of December, the Christmas market stalls were coming down, the clanking of poles from the glühwein tent hitting the grass as bolts were unscrewed, alongside the sharp snap of trestle tables folding up.
I passed the entrance to the cathedral, its warm light bathing the dark cobbles, and hurried on, towards the school car park, forcing myself to smile at the other parents spilling out of the gates with their children, ready to hurry home and get festivities underway. They all knew each other here. What would we do as a family if people turned their backs on us?
Half of the hospital consultants have kids at this school.
I heard Nathan’s voice in my head as I glanced at the wall where he’d been leaning that first day.
I’ve loved you pretty much from the moment you shook my hand outside the school in those ridiculous wellingtons on a baking hot afternoon.
I swallowed queasily and ran the last bit up to the heavy wooden door. Inside, it looked a little like Hogwarts. I began to feel more normal as I stood next to the oversized Christmas tree and chatted briefly to the receptionist about where she’d be spending the big day.
‘They’re late tonight?’ I remarked, checking my watch, before glancing up the wide mahogany staircase.
‘Everyone’s so overexcited it takes twice as long to get them to gather their stuff.’ She smiled. ‘I shouldn’t think they’ll be too much… ah, well, here’s Alex at least!’ She gestured up the stairs, although as I followed her gaze, my whole body tensed.
He was standing on one side of Nathan – who had his hand resting lightly on my son’s back – with Ben on the other.
‘Come down carefully!’ I called out straight away, instinctively nervous. ‘Hand on the bannister please, Alex. The stairs might be slippy; it’s damp outside.’
I held my breath as all three of them descended slowly, ignoring me and chatting earnestly. The second they arrived at the bottom, I as good as grabbed Al and pulled him towards me.
He looked understandably surprised. ‘Are you – oh no!’ He patted his head in dismay. ‘I’ve left my hat upstairs!’
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘What a surprise.’
Alex grinned at him. ‘Race you!’ He turned and bolted, legging it up the stairs two at a time with his long legs.
‘I said be careful!’ I called again. I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to be standing next to Nathan a second longer.
But Ben hesitated, then threw himself after Al – as they disappeared around the corner Nathan laughed easily. ‘Boys!’ he said, turning to me. ‘You’re never too old to get excited about Christmas. So you’ve got a few days off now I hope, Julia?’ He smiled at me pleasantly and tightened the scarf around his neck, tucking it into his camel overcoat.
We were going to act like nothing had happened? ‘I’ve finished until Monday the seventh, yes.’
‘Lovely.’ He beamed. ‘Nice long break! Me too. Except I don’t know when I go back yet. I was suspended just as I finished my third op today!’
Oh shit. My heart sank.
‘As soon as they tell the GMC, I’ll be obliged to inform the EM, who will no doubt follow suit, so thank you!’ He continued to smile widely. ‘Happy Christmas!’
I looked around me quickly, but no one was listening. ‘I don’t know what you expect me to say.’
‘“Sorry”? That would be a start.’ His smile faded.
I hesitated but glanced up to see Cass and Ewan standing at the top of the stairs. Ewan was watching us, and Cass was worriedly scanning her father’s face.
‘I’ll wait for you outside!’ I called up to them brightly. ‘Al’s just coming – would you hang on for him? I’m going to have a quick word with Ben’s dad.’
I put my head down and walked out into the dark car park, tucking into a discreet corner. I knew Nathan would follow me, but I didn’t expect to feel his hand on my arm and spun round in shock. ‘I don’t want to be touched by you.’
His grip tightened. ‘What kind of man do you think I am?’ he whispered. ‘I’m a good person, Julia!’
I spoke much more clearly and calmly than I felt. ‘Remove your hand.’
His eyes searched my face. ‘Come away with me,’ he begged suddenly. ‘Please? I just want to walk away from it all – with you. I feel like I’m hanging on by a very thin thread now.’
‘Oi!’ Ewan called angrily behind Nathan, carrying Cass and Alex’s sports bags towards us, while all three kids hung back awkwardly in the doorway, watching. ‘I don’t want a scene,’ he said quietly, arriving next to us, ‘but if you force it,’ – he nodded at Nathan’s hand, still resting on me – ‘it’s game on.’
‘“Game on”?’ Nathan repeated and turned to me. ‘How can you even want to be with someone like this? I don’t understand! He’s such a pleb.’
Ewan dropped the bags instantly and took a step forward.
‘No!’ I said urgently, seeing what Nathan was up to. ‘Don’t! He’s after a reaction he can report to the GMC and the press, when they come calling. It’s all part of his “me and him” relationship strategy.’
‘What?’ Nathan pretended to look bewildered. ‘No, I—’
‘He’s trying to make you look like the jealous husband,’ I continued, glancing over my shoulder. ‘Plus the kids can all see.’ I placed my free hand on top of Nathan’s, inclining my head forward so that it looked as if I was about to kiss his cheek. ‘Don’t ever touch me again,’ I whispered next to his ear and dug my nails into the back of his hand – still clasping my arm – hard enough to make him gasp and let go.
‘Happy Christmas!’ I said loudly as I pulled back, stepping away from him. ‘Come on, kids!’ I beckoned them towards me. Confused, they hurried over as I waved to Ben, still immobile in the doorway. ‘Bye, Ben! Happy Christmas!’
I put my arm around both of them, and Cass immediately shrugged me off, glancing over her shoulder at Ben. I did not look back.
‘Now!’ I said brightly, in my best ‘changing the subject’ tone, as we walked away from the Sloans. ‘We’re parked on the other side of the
green; I couldn’t get a space any closer than that, I’m afraid! How was your last day?’
I was walking so fast I could hear Al and Cass starting to pant as we marched past the dismantled market.
‘Al, what was Ben’s dad saying to you when you came down the stairs at school?’ I said suddenly. ‘You looked like you were having a serious talk about something.’ In our urgency to keep Cass away from Ben, it hadn’t occurred to me to do the same with Alex, but of course he’d leap straight into the gap left by Cass – or Ben had sought him out as a bridge to her. How stupid of me not to have considered that. ‘What were the three of you discussing?’
‘Nothing!’ Alex was exasperated. ‘We just…’ He stopped and listened. ‘Your phone’s ringing.’
‘It’s OK, she’ll call them back,’ Ewan said. ‘You were about to say?’
‘None of your business!’ Alex glared at him. ‘I don’t have to tell you anything. We’re not at school now.’
‘Don’t speak to Dad like that,’ Cass said hotly.
Alex shrugged. ‘He’s not my dad.’
‘Why are you being so horrible? Oh my God!’ Cass spun to look at me. ‘Could you answer that or just – like – put it on silent? It’s getting louder and louder.’
I rummaged around in my bag to find my phone. Unfortunately, we all saw the name illuminated on the screen in the dark.
Dominic…
It was hard to see how the day could get much worse.
‘Dad’s back?’ Al said immediately. We all heard the note of anxiety in his voice. ‘I don’t want to speak to him. Don’t pick up, Mum. Please!’
‘I won’t say you’re here.’
‘No!’ he shouted. ‘Why don’t you ever listen to me?’ He shrugged his bag from his back, dropped it and ran off into the dark, pushing past people carrying Christmas shopping, shoving them off the path.
‘Alex!’ I called out desperately, but he didn’t stop.
Ewan dumped the sports bags he was carrying and started to sprint after him. The phone was still ringing in my hand. To cap it all, some blokes tucked down in a dark corner of the cathedral began to sing ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas!’ and cackle with laughter. Not at us, I realised, when I looked over to see they were surrounded by tins and empty bottles – it was just coincidence. I took a deep breath and started gathering up the discarded bags.
‘Come on, Cass, let’s get home and get you something to eat. Long day, huh?’
Her bottom lip trembled as she nodded and we started to head off down the path towards the car park, me puffing and staggering slightly under the weight of Al’s belongings. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t coincidence when the men started singing ‘Little Donkey! Little Donkey, on a dusty road…’ But I ignored them. I was learning to pick my battles.
Twenty-Nine
Nathan
‘Who did this to you?’ Storm lifted my hand from the tablecloth, and examined the tiny, dark-red crescent moons left by Julia’s nails.
I drew back, picked up my cracker and offered it to her. ‘Pull me? It is Christmas, after all.’
‘Nathan!’ She looked embarrassed and checked to make sure no one around the table had heard, but unlike us they were all having a great time and busily chatting away. She took a sip of her champagne. ‘Who made those marks on your hand?’
‘When was the last time we had sex, in fact?’ I sat back in my chair. I really couldn’t remember. It was a rather unkind way to deflect attention, but – the truth? I shot a cold sideways look at her, gave her my best Jack Nicholson. As if she could handle the truth. I reached for my drink and took a large mouthful. ‘It was Stefanie, this morning.’
She watched me put the glass back down. ‘And why did Stefanie dig her nails into you?’
I sighed. The lady was not for turning. ‘She wasn’t so relaxed about having a GA after all.’
Storm raised an eyebrow. ‘Which is why you shouldn’t operate on anyone you know socially. They take advantage. You think she would have behaved like that with a stranger?’ She sipped her drink again. ‘You’re sure that’s what happened? Because you seemed a little off-colour this morning. Big night last night, was it?’
‘Not especially. Just some drinks with the EM team.’ I waited for her to ask…
‘Did Julia go?’
Bingo. ‘No.’ I began to fiddle with a small bell on the cracker, undoing the knot and slowly deconstructing it so I could slide the contents out without detonating the snap.
‘Why do you keep fidgeting? It’s unnerving. Is there something you want to tell me?’
I stopped moving, seeing myself emerge from theatre after my third op, to find Giles Creasy and two more of the management team waiting. Giles had cleared his throat and almost stammered, ‘Can we have a word, please Nathan?’, like he was asking the teacher’s permission to leave class and go for a wee. He’d gone through with it, though – told me the allegations, previewed what was going to happen, then formally suspended me.
‘I had no idea the cameras were even there until Julia was in my office, photographing them.’ I had put my hands on my head and closed my eyes. ‘God, I wish I’d never met Julia Blythe!’ My mouth had opened and the lies had automatically started to come out, but perhaps Hamish was right. I needed to protect myself.
Giles hesitated. ‘Nonetheless, I think that—'
‘It’s OK, I know.’ I patted his shoulder. ‘You have to be seen to be acting, even when it’s something as mad as this you’ve got to respond to. Can I just ask one small favour? Suspend me from practise – I’m off now for two weeks anyway – but could you possibly sit on doing anything more official in terms of announcements and kicking off investigations until after the Christmas break? I’d appreciate some time to explain to my wife and children why Julia has made up this vicious allegation about me – if you get my drift?’
I had looked at him wearily. ‘You don’t have to say it, Giles, never get romantically involved with a colleague, I know. No fool like an old fool, hey? You look at her and see this five-foot-two woman and you don’t think someone like her could be a bully or a manipulator… I take it she’s not shown you any footage from these so-called cameras?’
I watched him frown as he realised I was making a good point.
‘The landlord has already removed them, by the way. I suspect they were dummy ones left in situ by the last tenants. I’m not asking you to ignore Julia’s lies, just give me a moment to get my house in order personally. That’s all.’
It had been enough to buy myself some time, but now what? What was I going to do?
‘Nathan?’ My wife’s voice brought me back to the dining room. ‘I said, you’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?’
‘Nothing at all,’ I lied.
‘Are we about ready to order?’ Hamish cut in from the opposite side of the table, looking up and down the gathered guests, his arm casually slung round the back of Cecily’s chair as she sat alongside him comfortably. She was wearing the same black velvet dress and necklace as this time last year, and her hair was jammed back by a silver Alice band; although like a stopped clock, that was fashionable for once. She had at least bothered to change out of her jodhpurs and usual loose T-shirt. She has an ample bosom and rarely bothers with a bra – it must drive poor Ham nuts as she strides around their stud farm, swinging about the place. He often jokes he only gets attention if he wears a nose bag.
‘Anyone need a little extra time? Nate? Still making your mind up?’ He looked at me teasingly, and I shot him a brief deadpan look. ‘I’m going steak and salad, of course,’ he joked, moving on, wisely.
I could have made a crack about him liking it blue, but I didn’t, mostly because I couldn’t be bothered, but in any case, Sam got there first.
‘Salad?’ He snorted rudely, leant around his mother and poked his stepfather hard in the gut, adding in his deeply annoying mockney accent: ‘That’s ninety per cent pure lard, that. Not much point!’
Hamish tried to c
huckle. Cecily rolled her eyes and said, ‘Samsy!’, but didn’t follow it up, so, delighted, he simply slouched back, chair pushed away from the table, legs wide, hands on the back of his head, maintaining the confident pose as a pretty waitress arrived. I watched him swallow as she smiled down at him.
‘Do your flies up, there’s a good chap,’ I remarked loudly. ‘No one wants little Samsy to make an appearance.’ I’d noticed he was flying low when we’d all sat down and hadn’t wanted to embarrass him. I saw no need not to after the salad remark.
He jack-knifed immediately and we all laughed – the waitress included – as he flushed an unbecoming purple that clashed horribly with his strawberry-blond hair. Zipping himself up, he fled the table. I felt momentarily lifted and winked at Hamish, who grinned gratefully back.
I’d been looking forward to this evening, a regular fixture on our calendar: the last Friday night before Christmas was always spent at Hamish’s sister’s hotel in Lyme Regis for a black-tie meal. I had long been flattered to be included as an honorary Wilson – not least because it was always paid for and Fowles was one of my favourite places. But tonight, I just wasn’t feeling it. My cheap triumph over Sam deflated, I was too out of sorts to enjoy myself. Not surprising really, given the day I’d had: Stef’s op, followed by suspension, all topped off with the shitshow outside school. Julia’s husband really was little more than a walking jockstrap. That said, her behaviour had been preposterous.
I glanced at the back of my hand again; no better than a little cat, hissing and spitting all over the place. I was the one who’d been suspended. I snatched the menu up and scanned it. Nothing leapt out at me except the elaborate Fowles at the top of it, in rather beautiful new calligraphy. Very ornate. I traced the sweeping F and O with my eyes, then onto the W – a bell rang in my mind, reminding me of the implants I’d marked yesterday, as well as Stefanie’s this morning.
‘You’ll look after me, won’t you, Nate?’ She’d squeezed my hand tightly before the anaesthetist had arrived. ‘You’re still happy to do this? You look a bit – distracted.’