CHAPTER THREE

      YES, MARNIE WAS everywhere.

      As Harry sat having his lunch he found out, if he hadn’t known already, just how forthright she was—the pint-sized Marnie didn’t even try to mince her words when she answered a personal call.

      Marnie didn’t excuse herself from the staffroom to take the call—instead, she tucked the phone between her neck and chin and squirted salad dressing over her home-made salad. As she thanked Dave for returning her call, she stirred in the dressing.

      Oh, her accent was as soft as butter as she spoke but you could almost feel it choking the rather unfortunate Dave’s arteries.

      ‘Absolutely, I signed the contract but let me ask you this, Dave—was one month’s rent really worth it? I certainly shan’t be staying on when my lease is up.’ Harry listened as she made it very clear that she wouldn’t be using him in the future and hopefully, if the hospital grapevine served her well, neither would anybody else from Bayside. ‘So, to be clear,’ Marnie concluded, ‘you have my notice and I have photos of before and after so I’ll be expecting to receive my deposit in full—the place was nothing but a filthy swamp before I set to work.’

      ‘Ripped off?’ Kelly asked, and Marnie nodded.

      ‘It’s my own fault for signing a lease on a place that I hadn’t seen. He only showed me the first half of Beach Road…’ She didn’t elaborate and she didn’t sit around for much longer—after finishing her salad, Marnie stood and left the staffroom.

      ‘I can’t make up my mind whether or not I like her,’ Kelly grumbled.

      ‘Well, I’ve made up my mind and I don’t.’ Abby, another of the nurses, sighed. ‘I was given a ten-minute lesson on the correct way to wash my hands, as if I didn’t already know. I think that she’s got OCD!’

      ‘She’s got ADHD,’ Kelly grumbled. ‘She just never stops.’

      ‘Ladies!’ Dr Vermont said, and didn’t even look up from his newspaper as he delivered a warning for the nurses to stop gossiping.

      Though, a few hours later, he indulged in a little gossip of his own as he put on his jacket to head for home. ‘What do you think of Marnie?’ Dr Vermont asked Harry.

      ‘I don’t know what to think,’ Harry admitted. ‘She’s not exactly here to make friends, is she? Marnie doesn’t seem to care who she offends.’

      ‘I like that about her,’ Dr Vermont said. ‘The trouble with Christine was that she was either your best friend or your worst enemy.’ He thought about it for a long moment. ‘I know that it’s very early days but so far I’m impressed.’

      Dr Vermont was more than a colleague to Harry. He was a friend and mentor and Harry admired him greatly. If Dr Vermont liked Marnie, that was high praise indeed and almost as good as a reference.

      ‘Well, so far so good,’ Harry conceded. ‘But enough about this place—hadn’t you better get going?’

      ‘Sorry that I have to dash off.’ Dr Vermont didn’t elaborate. They both knew that it was his wedding anniversary today and Dr Vermont was kind enough to realise that milestones such as the one he and Marjorie had just reached might cause a twinge of pain for Harry.

      ‘You go and enjoy yourself,’ Harry smiled. ‘Forty years is quite an achievement.’

      ‘I know that it is,’ Dr Vermont agreed. ‘We’ve got all the family coming over tonight…’ He paused as Harry took a beautifully wrapped bottle from his desk and handed it to him.

      ‘Well, you’d better hide this from them, then.’

      Dr Vermont thanked Harry and after he had gone to celebrate with his wife and family Harry sat for a long moment.

      Jill had been dead now for more than a year and a half. Birthdays and two Christmases had passed. Two wedding anniversaries had been and gone as well—and still it hurt. Some days more, some days less, but the pain was always there. Not just for Jill and all that she was missing out on, but for himself and more pointedly for the twins. Harry twisted the ring on his finger—he still couldn’t bring himself to take it off. It wasn’t just the hurt, there was also guilt—perpetual, constant guilt about whether or not he was doing a good job with the children. Certainly they weren’t being brought up as Jill would have wanted. She had wanted to stay home at least until the twins had started school.

      Yes, he was doing his best—he was just all too aware that it wasn’t quite enough.

      Harry headed back out to the department, which was, for once, quiet. The late staff were all trying to pretend to be busy as Marnie sat at the nurses’ station and went through the policy manual, and of course she was making notes and had several questions for Harry.

      ‘Sheldon just brought back a puncture wound of the hand for review in the hand clinic tomorrow.’ Marnie had been surprised; it was a very small injury that could easily have been followed up by a GP. ‘When I questioned him he said it was policy. Now I’ve checked and it says here that all hand injuries, regardless of how small, are to be brought back the next day for review in the hand clinic.’

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘All?’

      ‘All.’ Harry nodded. ‘A lot of things get picked up in the hand clinic and for the most part the patients are in and out in less than a minute. It’s worth it, though, because something that seemed minor at the time is often picked up. I’ve found it works better to just bring everyone with a hand injury, no matter how small, back the next day for review.’

      ‘Fair enough.’ Marnie turned the page and then glanced up at the clock. ‘What time do you finish?’

      ‘Now,’ Harry said. ‘Day care closes at six.’

      ‘Dr Morales comes on at nine?’ Marnie checked.

      ‘That’s right. Though you can call me for anything you’re concerned about—all of the staff know that.’

      ‘They do,’ Marnie said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’

      ‘You shall.’ Harry smiled. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Marnie, and I’m very glad that we never…’ He halted. He wished he could take that back and wondered what had possessed him to even go there in the first place.