Chapter 7
7
I didn’t sleep with Luke, and I still don’t know whether I’m pleased or disappointed. I mean, I was ready to sleep with him; I’d treated myself to a new matching knicker and bra set, exfoliated thoroughly and hacked my normally unruly pubic hair into something a little more presentable. I’m not one for the plucked-chicken look down there, but equally I do understand that not all men want to feel like they’re fighting their way through the enchanted forest.
The lunch itself went really well. Luke was looking frankly edible in light chinos and a light blue shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just far enough for me to appreciate his forearms. He was attentive, entertaining, and didn’t whine about his treatment from Dr Rogers once. He asked me lots of questions about my family and my experiences growing up, and I found him really easy to chat to. The only slightly weird moment in the whole conversation was when I was talking about my living arrangements, and I mentioned that it was just me and Mike most of the time. I think, like Sarah, he struggled with the idea that I could have a platonic relationship with Mike, given that we shared a flat and were evidently close, but I managed to reassure him in the end. At least, I hope I did.
If he’d invited me to go back to his for coffee or more, I definitely would have gone, but that didn’t happen. Instead, he apologetically explained how his mum wasn’t good with strangers and would promptly forget who I was every time she turned her back, so I’d be continually introducing myself to a terrified old woman. I could tell he was angling for an invitation back to mine, but I hadn’t planned for that and couldn’t remember whether Mike’s washing was spread on dryers around the place, or whether I’d made my bed this morning, so kept my mouth closed.
I’m now back in the thick of it on a Friday night shift, so I don’t have mental space for the delicious Dr Luke. Saturday is definitely the main night of the week for drink-related accidents, but Fridays run them a close second. So far tonight, our patients have included two men who decided to try to settle their differences by shoving broken glasses in each other’s faces, a woman who broke her ankle falling off a kerb in high heels, and another woman with a suspected fractured pelvis after she stepped into the road without looking and got hit by a car. It’s only 12.30 and we all know there’s plenty more to come. An already tense atmosphere isn’t helped by the fact that our lead consultant is Dr Patel, who famously has no tolerance for self-inflicted injuries, particularly those where alcohol or sex are the root cause.
‘For goodness’ sake,’ she muttered crossly as we sent the woman with the suspected pelvis fracture down to X-ray. ‘How difficult is it to look before you cross the road? I mean, we teach this shit in primary school, don’t we?’
I do sometimes wonder why she works in A&E, given her lack of empathy for a lot of the people we have to treat, but I’ve never summoned the courage to ask her. Tonight won’t be the night either, as the flow of people coming through the door and being blue-lighted in is only accelerating as we go further into the early hours. People often ask me how I cope working twelve-hour night shifts, but the time simply flies and, in a weird way, I often prefer them to the slightly slower day shifts. By the time we get to the morning handover I’m running on pure adrenaline, as are the rest of the team. Tonight will be even more intense, but thankfully I won’t be here as this is the end of my three nights on and I’m looking forward to a hot shower and a long sleep. By the time I meet Luke again for lunch on Monday, I should be more or less back in the right time zone. I’ve already vowed that I’m going to make sure the flat is presentable as I want to be ready if there’s the faintest possibility of moving this on from the PG zone we’re in currently.
* * *
When I get back home, I’m surprised to find Sarah in the kitchen, dressed in a pair of Mike’s boxer shorts and a T-shirt, operating the coffee machine as if she’s known it all her life. This must be the fourth time I’ve seen her here, which has to be some kind of record.
‘Morning, Tilly,’ she says. ‘Rough night? Fancy a coffee? I think I’ve mastered this machine now.’
‘Thanks, Sarah, but I think I’m going to have a hot shower and head straight to bed.’
‘Umm.’ She bites her lip uncertainly. ‘There’s someone in there.’
‘What?’ I exclaim crossly. ‘Mike knows not to be in the shower when I get home from a night shift. It’s literally cardinal rule numero uno .’
‘It’s not Mike,’ she tells me conspiratorially. ‘It’s her .’
‘Who?’
‘You know, the mystery woman in the other bedroom.’
‘You mean Lena?’
‘Yes. She arrived just after I got up. She just staggered in, grunted a greeting at me, dumped her rucksack and disappeared into the bathroom. She’s been in there for nearly an hour.’
‘For fuck’s sake.’ Although it’s Lena’s flat and she has every right to come and go as she pleases, I’m not very good at having my post-shift routines mucked about. I just want to wash and go to bed.
‘I tell you what,’ I say to Sarah with a sigh. ‘Maybe I’ll have that coffee after all. Tell me how things are with you and Mike.’
‘They’re good,’ she says enthusiastically as she reaches into the cupboard for more coffee pods. ‘We’re talking about a weekend away in the not-too-distant future. Norfolk, maybe, or even further afield.’
‘Really?’ I say, trying to disguise the surprise in my voice. ‘That sounds lovely.’ Since Caroline, Mike definitely doesn’t do forward planning with his sexual partners, so I file it away to grill him about next time we’re alone. If someone as commitment-phobic as Mike is showing signs of settling down, I definitely don’t want to be left on the shelf.
‘Yes. I know you’re surprised, Tilly, it’s OK. He’s been honest with me about his past, but we both feel a connection and we’d like to see where it goes.’
‘Hey, no judgement from me,’ I tell her. ‘If you can tame him, then I take my hat off to you.’
‘I don’t know about taming him,’ she says with a grin as the coffee machine starts to hiss and splutter. ‘I like to think of it more like harnessing his talents and giving them a focus.’
We’re both still laughing when the bathroom door opens, emitting a cloud of steam as Lena steps out. I may not have seen her for three months or more, but she hasn’t changed a bit. Mid-forties, waspishly thin with darkly tanned leathery skin that comes from spending so much time outdoors in hot climates.
‘Hot water’s run out,’ she announces matter-of-factly, as I notice with irritation that she has my bath towel wrapped around her head. ‘Hello, Tilly. Who’s this?’ She nods her head at Sarah.
‘I’m Sarah, Mike’s girlfriend,’ Sarah says brightly. ‘Would you like a coffee?’
‘Love one. Can’t remember the last time I had a decent coffee. The stuff they gave us on the plane tasted like soil. Mind you, most things taste like soil in camp.’
‘Did you have a good trip? How long are you back for?’ I ask.
Lena sighs wearily. ‘I’m not sure any trip can be described as “good”, Tilly, but we’re doing good, and that’s all that counts in the end, isn’t it?’
‘Where were you?’ Sarah asks as she pops another couple of pods into the machine.
‘Angola. Although the civil war ended years ago, people are still regularly coming into contact with landmines. It’s not a happy mix.’
‘Isn’t that where Princess Diana did her famous walk all those years ago?’
Lena smiles grimly. ‘Yes. Sadly there’s quite a lot of the country where she didn’t walk that’s still mined from here to next week.’
‘And how long are you back for?’ I ask again, my eyes fixed on the fluffy bath towel that I’d been hoping to wrap around myself shortly.
‘Not sure. They said three weeks of furlough, but it just depends what comes up, doesn’t it. Don’t worry. I’m not going to be here cramping your style all the time. My parents will want a visit, and I’ve got a couple of fundraisers to go to.’ She takes a sip of her coffee and sighs appreciatively. ‘Fuck me, that’s good. So, Sarah. Are you living here?’
‘No. Just stayed last night.’
‘Shame. I could do with the extra rental income. What about you, Tilly? Any live-in lovers I need to know about?’
‘Nope.’
She turns her attention back to Sarah. ‘And where is Mike?’
‘Still in bed, I think. He likes a lie-in if he’s not working at the weekend.’
‘Hm.’ Lena’s facial expression leaves us in no doubt what she thinks of ‘lie-ins’. ‘Well, I’d better get this stuff unpacked and in the washing machine. To be honest, I’m amazed customs let some of my clothes into the country, the way they smell. I’ll see you guys later, yeah?’
‘Great,’ I sigh once she’s disappeared into her room. ‘Not only has she stolen my bath towel, but she’s going to hog the washing machine for the entire weekend as well. Last time, she managed to clog it up and we had to get a man in to fix it.’
‘What have I missed?’ Mike says, appearing from his room looking sleepy and dishevelled. ‘Is there any coffee, Sarah?’
‘I’m not your personal barista, you know,’ she admonishes him gently as she gets yet another mug out of the cupboard.
‘You’re a woman of many talents,’ he assures her in a voice I’ve never heard him use before. ‘It’s just that the coffee-making one interests me the most at the moment.’
‘Flatterer,’ she laughs as she fiddles with the machine.
‘Lena’s back,’ I tell him once Sarah has furnished him with a steaming mug and settled herself beside him on the sofa. He smoothly moves his hand to rest it on her bare thigh, and she almost shivers with pleasure. There’s certainly more going on between them than I’ve ever seen with his other conquests.
‘Is she?’ He seems curiously unperturbed by the news. ‘Where’s she been this time?’
‘Angola. Landmines.’
‘Nice. She’d better not fuck up the washing machine again.’
‘I wouldn’t rule it out. She’s already stolen my towel and used all the hot water. I’m absolutely knackered, all I want is a hot shower and I can’t bloody have one.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Yeah, well. It’s not your fault for once. Remind me how long before the water heats up again?’
‘It’ll be at least an hour, I’m afraid.’
‘Bollocks. There’s nothing I hate more than going to bed smelling of hospital, but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for that long. I’ll see you two lovebirds later, yeah?’
In the end, the lack of shower makes no difference. I’m so dog-tired as I shut my blackout curtains and climb under the duvet that I don’t even have time to enjoy my usual montage of Luke fantasies before falling into a deep sleep. I do dream, however. In one, Lena is using my towel like some kind of fishing line to lure Luke to her. I’m calling out to him, trying to tell him to let go of the towel, but he seems mesmerised by her as she pulls him closer and closer. She’s cackling triumphantly as she finally traps him in her arms. In an instant, they’re both undressed and I’m forced to watch as she lowers her skinny frame onto him, slowly at first but then faster until it’s almost frenzied. She’s crying out and he’s making low, guttural moans until she suddenly grips him tight and shudders as he evidently empties himself inside her. At that moment, she turns to me and smiles victoriously, before climbing off him and immediately giving birth to a series of people with ugly war wounds and missing limbs.
When I wake, I’m not surprised to find that the sheets are damp and I don’t feel rested at all. I lie in the dark, trying to doze but very aware of a thumping and banging coming from somewhere that sounds very much like the washing machine in distress. I know it’s her flat and everything, but I’d forgotten what a disruptive influence Lena is, and I really hope her visit is going to be short so Mike and I can get back to normal. Thinking of Mike, I must also quiz him about Sarah. If he’s planning a future with her, that’s big news.