Page 16 of The Night Shift
‘I think you might have reached your limit on sentimentality, Doctor– am I right?’ His mouth had creased up at the corner again although Violet wasn’t sure whether it was in amusement or emotional pain.
‘You might be. Sorry. I’m not very good at this stuff. Which is fairly self-evident.’ She picked up the sheaf of notes. ‘What I am good at though is thorough history-taking and precise documentation. Which is why next time I see you I think we should complete a Do Not Resuscitate order to put in your notes– make sure you don’t end up going through what Magda did.’
Mr Zeller nodded and at last looked a little more reassured. ‘That would be a relief, yes.’
‘And finally, did you get any Christmas presents, Mr Zeller?’
‘Is this part of your thorough history-taking?’
‘Exactly.’
‘No. I did not. I have no family now Magda’s gone, and very few friends. And, as I told you last night, I absolutely hate Christmas.’
‘So, you did. Righto. I’ve got to get on with the rest of my shift. There are other people in need of my attention, astonishing as that may seem. Shall I turn off your light, what with it being nearly two o’clock in the morning?’
‘You may,’ he said. ‘I think I might be able to get to sleep now after all.’
‘Have I made you feel better?’ she asked with genuine surprise. ‘Put your mind at rest?’
‘No,’ he said with another wry smile. ‘It’s just that talking to you is bloody exhausting.’
Gus
Gus’s eyelids felt heavy as he sat alone in the mess, the noise from the television reduced to a low hum. He had just finished a pre-op assessment for a man awaiting emergency surgery on his leg, both knees having fractured at multiple points when he’d attempted to fly out of the window of his girlfriend’s second floor apartment. It hadn’t been entirely clear what level or combination of recreational drugs had been taken to precipitate this event but when the patient had told him, in a quiet conspiratorial voice, that he had known,knownhe was possessed by the spirit of at least three of the X-Men and that they were responsible for his powers of flight, Gus had called orthopaedics and suggested that they wait a little longer before consenting him for surgery, at least until the delusions of grandeur had seeped out of his system along with the ketamine. Thinking you were possessed by Wolverine was not a great marker of mental capacity.
The door creaked open bringing with it a waft of fresh citrus fragrance that made him open his eyes. Violet Winters was resting against the doorframe in a way that he assumed was intended to appear casual but actually looked quite uncomfortable.
‘Coffee or tea?’ she said. ‘I’ll make it. You look knackered.’
‘Thanks. I thought I looked pretty good.’
‘Well, yes,’ said Violet. ‘Sleep deprivation doesn’t make people less handsome. It just means they look tired. Not that you, uhm, anyway. What’ll it be?’ She gestured to the kitchen counter.
‘I’ll just have whatever you’re having,’ he said. He rubbed his eyes, partly from fatigue, but also to disguise the fact that he was really quite flattered she’d inadvertently called him handsome. ‘Anything with caffeine in it.’
‘Really?’ She gave him an incredulous look. ‘You haveno opinionon whether you want a tea or a coffee? Completely ambivalent?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Just whatever’s easiest.’
She snorted in disbelief and crossed to the kettle.
‘Wait.’ He sat more upright and checked his watch. ‘How many hours until the shift’s over…? Oh, okay, four. Yeah, caffeine’s fine. Caffeine’s good. As long as it’s out of my system before I get home otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.’
She nodded and took two mugs off the draining board.
‘Takes me at least a couple of days to get into the pattern.’ Gus continued to speak as Violet busied herself with their drinks. ‘And then, just as I get used it, sleeping in daylight and up all night, the week’s over and I’ve got to resynch with the rest of the human race in a normal circadian rhythm again.’
‘I didn’t sleep much yesterday,’ agreed Violet as she brought over his mug. The tea she’d made him was a deep stewed orange. ‘This is the colour you like it?’ she checked as she handed it to him. ‘The tea? This is how you had it yesterday.’
Gus was too touched by the fact that she’d remembered the exact shade of the previous night’s mugful to tell her that he wasn’t an enormous fan of really strong tea and that last night’s attempt had been a bit of an error, the taste of tannin remaining on his teeth until he got home and had some cornflakes. ‘It’s fine,’ he said, taking a sip and trying not to grimace. ‘Perfect.’
‘Yeah, so sleeping through Christmas Day is a bit weird anyway, right?’ Violet continued. ‘But it’s also my first week of nights so I’m not sure how it will work out. The body-clock reset and everything.’ She took a sip of her own milky tea. ‘I’ve got a plan though.’
‘You have?’
‘Yes.’ She tucked her feet up onto the sofa. There was a little hole in one of her socks and he was suddenly tempted to poke his finger through it, feel the delicate pink skin of the tip of her toe– it must be all this talk of sleeping, or rather, the thought of being in bed, unable to sleep and what other activities Violet might be getting up to under the covers.
‘I’m going to the lido as soon as tonight’s shift’s over,’ she continued, clearly oblivious to the sordid direction of Gus’s thoughts.
