Page 78 of Anxious Hearts
‘You’ll never work here while I’m the Head of Paediatrics, Kelly. I simply can’t trust you. And if you have anything to do with Dr Eli Asher, he won’t work here, either. Or South East. I’ll make sure of it. As for you, you’ve lost my endorsement, Kelly. I can’t possibly recommend you to a major training site.’
Kelly couldn’t breathe. There were other hospitals, but who would give her a job if she couldn’t get a reference from Michael, who had been her boss for three years? What did that say about her? How would she explain her desire to leave the Children’s?Nobodyleaves the Children’s. They’d see straight through her, and though they may not know the details, they’d know she was being ostracised for a reason. She’d instantly become an unknown, risky, untested commodity. The last kind of doctor hospitals want on their training programs.
But there was no sense in fighting Michael. She knew in her heart of hearts that she’d gone too far. And even though the disguise had been Eli’s idea, it wasn’t his fault. She was the one who put the wig on day after day and examined patients in a hospital where she had no clearance, no legitimate access and no right to even walk the wards.
She had done this. And now she had to suffer for it.
Kelly pulled her shoulders back. She took a deep breath and raised her head to meet Michael’s eyes. When she spoke, her voice was clear and steady.
‘I will have nothing to do with Dr Eli Asher. There is no reason for you to blacklist him from this hospital or to report him to South East. On the contrary, he’s an excellent doctor and the Children’s would be lucky to have him. As I would have been.’
Michael nodded in what Kelly interpreted as reluctant respect.
She stood and walked out of Michael’s office in a daze. She left the hospital on autopilot, not making eye contact with anyone on the way through. She took the lift down to the staff car park, scanned her pass, and drove away.
Chapter Thirty-five
Cam was setting up the sound equipment on set. None of the other actors were there yet, just Cam and a few of the other crew getting ready for the day’s shooting. He looked up as Finn approached.
‘What are you doing here so early, man? You’re not due until ten.’
Finn thrust his hands into his pockets so Cam wouldn’t see them shaking. He’d showered and dressed before coming to the studio, but his skin was still covered in a damp layer of sweat. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’
Cam paused in the middle of unfurling a long electrical cord that was looped between his elbow and hand like a garden hose. He was short and stocky with a regrowing buzz cut, a flat nose and wide-set grey eyes. Black T-shirt, blue denim jeans. He watched Finn closely. ‘You all right, man?’
Finn cast around to make sure nobody else was watching. He could feel the heat of eyes on his back, but the rest of the crew were going about their business without giving him a second look. Finn crouched down to Cam’s height and leaned in close so he could whisper into his ear.
‘I need cocaine.’
Cam slowly and methodically resumed unwinding the electrical cord.
Oh, no. He’d made a terrible mistake. The rumours weren’t true, Cam wasn’t the person on set who supplied the drugs. And now Finn had outed himself to a guy he barely knew and his career was going to be ruined. He could see the headlines, the story, the fall from grace. He visualised his empty bank account, the mortgagee auction of his apartment and his eventual demise into crime and then prison, where he would be beaten mercilessly day after day after day. He felt the room closing in. His brain was turning to cement and his muscles were both supercharged and unbearably fatigued at the same time. He had to get to his dressing room.
Cam kept unwinding the cord but didn’t take his eyes off Finn. He kept his voice low and clear. ‘There’s an old white LandCruiser in the car park. Back left corner. It’s mine. Go out there in twenty minutes and leave an envelope on the front left tyre. Make sure it’s sealed and has the cash. How much do you want? It’s a hundred per gram.’
Finn’s drug use had escalated so quickly that he was consuming five grams a day. Ashley had stopped providing it for free when his need rapidly spiked and so he’d spent fifteen thousand dollars in the past month. But when he was high on the coke and then calmed by the benzos, which he was also now paying for, there was no room to worry about money. All he had to do was meet his own need.
‘As much as you’ve got,’ Finn replied.
‘Fuck, man, I’m not El Chapo. I never carry more than ten.’
‘Then give me ten.’
Cam cocked his head. ‘You’ve never wanted this shit before, Finn. Why now?’
‘What, you think I’m a fucking cop?’
Cam shook his head. ‘No, I think you’re a fucking fool.’
Finn took a deep breath. ‘Twenty minutes. A thousand in an envelope on the front left tyre. Then what?’
‘Then you’ll get a delivery to your dressing room. Make sure you’re alone.’
Finn nodded and turned to walk away but Cam grabbed him roughly by the side of his T-shirt and dragged him close. He whispered into his ear as Finn had done to him a moment earlier: ‘And don’t use it in an open room. Bathroom only. Locked door.’
‘I’m not an idiot.’
‘No. But you’re an addict. And addicts do really dumb shit.’
