Free (2013) Looks Could Kill by David Ellis Page B

handsome couple, she thought.
    Emma held out her hand to him. “I’m Emma, the house officer… I’m just so sorry, Tony,” she said, feeling some tears brimming up. “How long had you been together?”
    He looked up, his eyes red with crying. “Thanks, it would have been six years in September… we were planning to buy a house together…” He turned away.
    “You must have made such a nice couple.”
    “People were always saying we looked like twins. Christ, I loved him so much…”
    Emma left some silence between them.
    “Is there anything you’d like to ask?” she said.
    “Doctor, can you tell me what happens next? Like whom should I call, the funeral, things like that...” He turned away again.
    “Look, I’ll just leave you for a bit and then get the nurse to come in and go through what needs to happen next. I really am very, very sorry.” She touched his arm briefly.
    Emma left the relatives’ room, closing the door behind her. She went in search of the registrar but discovered that he’d already left for the clinic. He said he’d be back at lunchtime. The staff nurse had already spoken with someone from Patients Affairs who said they’d be up to talk with the partner.
    Christ, it’s a bugger, Emma thought: deaths on the first day of two jobs and she couldn’t help feeling responsible.
    But over subsequent weeks she learnt that deaths on the CCU are commonplace and almost become a matter of routine for medical and nursing staff. Weekly support meetings helped a lot, although it was notable that the senior registrar always tended to be ‘stuck in clinic’.
    So things did settle down, and Emma started to feel at home at St Edwards’ Hospital. Although it had a splash of modernity to it, there was a certain homely quality to the hospital that made her feel she was part of a much extended family.
    One fly in the ointment was that a coroner’s inquest was going to be held following Mr Williams’s death, as he’d died within forty-eight hours of admission. Emma had gone through her report with her new consultant and he’d been very certain that she’d be in the clear when the coroner made his summing up.
    In contrast to her six months on the surgical ward, where the endless throughput of patients had turned her days into working on a production line, the CCU allowed Emma to practice and refine her skills at a slower pace where there was more time for reflection. In fact, she found a mesmeric fascination in watching the ECG monitors at the nurses’ station, with all the life-force of the ten patients summed up on a few screens.
    Sometimes, when looking at her patients in their beds with drips and monitors attached, she was reminded of Mrs Brown’s beautiful butterflies pinned to the board.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

February 1989
     
     
    Two house officer jobs behind her, Emma was now fully registered with the GMC, and she’d succeeded in getting on a general medical training as a senior house officer at the John Michael Hospital in Rochester.
    Looking back at her last house officer job, Emma thought she’d coped pretty well after the trauma of the first week and had actually learnt quite a lot. Her final sign-off also seemed to have reflected that. Apart from on a couple of occasions, she’d kept her demons in check and her razor remained unused, although she’d been showing a little too much interest in the calorie content of convenience foods recently. But perhaps that was because of anxiety about moving on to a proper medical rotation.
    Emma’s first post was on a geriatric ward which had a good reputation for medical care and nursing.  The consultant, Dr Ziegler, was said to be personable, with a particular interest in managing the multiple morbidity that goes with old age.
    Emma had just gone through the usual bureaucratic rigmarole of signing on with medical staffing, having a photo taken for her ID badge and collecting her bleep and white coat, but even all