Page 52 of The Night Shift
‘Thank you,’ she said. Remarkably she managed to get out of the door without falling over anything and turned left to leave the ward without a backwards glance.
Gus caught the appraising look that Barney gave her as she walked off and his hands curled by his sides. He knew there was no point in saying anything.
‘She isquitethe hot piece of ass,’ said Barney, his attention now returned to Gus. ‘I can absolutely see why you would.’
‘It’s not how it looks,’ Gus began through gritted teeth.
Barney tutted and shook his head. ‘It’sexactlyhow it looks, mate.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got nothing against a bit of slap and tickle in the workplace. I won’t say a word.’
Gus tried to stop his face from registering the combination of relief and irritation at Barney’s words. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’ He made to leave the room, knowing he had to reach Violet and check she was okay.
But Barney put a broad arm out across the doorframe to stop him.
‘I get it now,’ he said, his tone conversational. ‘Why you were all protective about her last night when we were in theatre. If I was banging her I’d have been the same.’ He nodded agreeably. ‘But honestly, I just don’t get why you tried to dress it up as some women’s rights issue– acting all insulted when I implied that the female medics have their own way of climbing the greasy pole to success.’ He inclined his head in the direction that Violet had just taken. ‘She knows exactly what she’s doing, that one,’ he said, lifting his arm to allow Gus through, making the power balance clear. ‘But just because it’s your greasy pole she’s climbing doesn’t make you the champion of female emancipation, my friend.’ He clapped Gus on the shoulder a little harder than necessary. ‘If anything, it just makes you complicit in the whole charade.’
Violet
Saturday night
29th December
‘Here she is!’ Violet’s dad was nearest the kitchen door and the first to hug her when she made her sleepy entrance downstairs later that afternoon. Her mum soon joined them and she found herself welling up as the emotion of the past forty-eight hours caught up with her.
‘We thought we’d drive down and check you were all okay,’ said her mum, holding her out at arm’s length and giving her an appraising eye. ‘We knew you’d all probably still be in shock after what happened to Marv.’
‘Dev’s been filling us in on his progress,’ said her father, pulling out a chair and encouraging her to take a seat. ‘It sounds as though he’s through the worst, which is reassuring.’
‘Did you get a chance to speak to the surgical team on the ward round?’ Violet asked Dev, realising that this was the first time she’d seen him in more than twenty-four hours. He looked awful. Drawn and distracted with dark circles around his eyes and a very random choice of outfit, which was most out of character given the usual level of thought that went into Dev’s wardrobe choices.
Her parents obviously thought the same thing because her mum shooshed Dev into the seat next to Violet and went to put the kettle on herself. ‘We’ve brought you some groceries,’ she said, turning towards Violet’s dad. ‘John, could you get the bags out of the car? And the presents?’
‘Oh, Mum, you didn’t need to do that,’ said Violet. ‘You guys sent me loads of Christmas presents. I love the jumper by the way, and the bag.’
‘Oh, it’s just a few little bits,’ her mum said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘Something for Marv too. More of a get well soon present than a Christmas thing. Although I did get you all a selection box each.’
‘They were reduced,’ said her dad cheerfully as he picked up his car keys. ‘So, your mother’s bought about thirty of them. She thought maybe you could take some of them into the hospital for the team looking after Marv too?’
Dev’s face started to crumple. ‘That’s so kind of you, Sue,’ he said, gulping hard. ‘So thoughtful.’
Violet watched as her mum put an arm around Dev’s shoulders and he began to cry. She knew he would be thinking of his parents, making a comparison. She wondered whether he’d even told them about his ‘friend’ being assaulted. Despite the fact that Dev had tried to come out to his family four years ago, neither of his parents had really accepted that their son was gay and his mother continued to live in hope that Dev would eventually settle down and marry Violet. ‘After all, you arealreadyliving together, she had said with a frown a few months ago, ‘and sheisa doctor’– as if Violet’s profession sealed the deal.
Violet knew that Dev’s parents loved him dearly– and Dev knew this too, deep down– but she could well imagine the level of mental gymnastics required to have a conversation about the precarious physical health of his boyfriend without actually referring to him as a boyfriend; it would put Dev off at the best of times– and this was not the best of times. He might have decided it was simply easier to not involve his parents in the discussion at all. She wondered for a moment what this must feel like– the constant strain of maintaining a façade that neither he nor his parents truly believed in– and was just thinking herself extremely fortunate for her family’s policy of honesty and tolerance before she remembered that she was in fact already acting in a charade of her own making, the role of happy and fulfilled doctor. Not being very good at pretending didn’t stop her from trying it occasionally. She wasn’t sure she fully believed in Dev’s ‘fake it until you make it’ theory– objectively there was no logical reason that it would work. But she knew it was a popular concept– something that everyone seemed to bang on about– and in the absence of any obvious harms it was sometimes worth a try. Especially when there was a good reason to appear convincing.
It occurred to her that even the most open families sometimes harboured hidden secrets, with both parents and children finding themselves playing fabricated characters entirely at odds with their real selves. This struck her as disappointing, particularly given her own insistence on honesty and integrity– if being true to herself was so important then why on earth wasn’t she capable of doing exactly this with those who loved her best? Maybe it wasbecausethey loved her so much– the burden of their disappointment would lie far heavier upon her than the opinions of almost anyone else. Or maybe it was simply that she wasn’t as brave as she thought.
Violet alluded to this inner conflict later that evening at Gus’s flat. She had come round at six so that he could cook supper for her as planned before they both went back to work for their penultimate night shift, and she was gratified to see him looking so happy when he opened the door and ushered her inside. The flat was warm and welcoming after the frankly aggressive hail outside and as Gus took her coat and hung it over the radiator she was surprised by how quickly all this had begun to feel normal– if being so pleased to see someone could ever be considered normal.
‘I’ve just seen my parents,’ she said as she set the table. ‘They brought us a whole heap of groceries and presents, including things for Marv and the surgical team. Dev’s just taken two carrier bags full of selection boxes up to ward twenty.’
‘God, that’s nice of them,’ said Gus, carrying over a basket of crusty bread and some green beans.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘Feel like a bit of a bitch for implying that they neglected me in my youth now– all that “TV dinners, latch-key kid” stuff I told you yesterday. Maybe I was underplaying just how thoughtful and kind and selfless they really are.’
‘No, you made it absolutely clear how much you love them, Violet, don’t worry– I don’t think you’re a spoilt brat.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek as he leaned across the table.
‘Mmmm,’ he said, kissing her back, this time on the mouth. ‘You smell lovely.’
