Page 2
Story: Pyg
“I’ll fetch Doctor K.,” Beardy called over his shoulder as he disappeared through the curtain.
Fresh-face Scrubs gave Alice a closed-lipped smile. “Doctor should be here in just a moment, okay?” he said before swooshing out and leaving her alone with the man.
Not a groan from him now, just the rhythmic wheeze of air in and out of his hairy nostrils.At least he’s still breathing.
Alice stepped closer and examined the man’s crease-laden face in the harsh lighting. Unkempt salt-and-pepper hair, bushy eyebrows, and under his eyes, purple bags that drooped so heavily they looked all set for a backpacking trip around Europe.
“What’s your story, hey?” whispered Alice.
The man breathed.
Alice looked down at her scuffed heels and tutted. They had sunk her into the depths of her overdraft, but Fran adored her calves in heels and insisted Alice wear them to bed. So these beauties had been worth every penny; at least she’d thought so at the time.Now they’re ruined, but then so’s everything else.Suddenly aware of the stinging scratch on her forearm, Alice pulled up her sleeve and rubbed the claw marks etched into her skin.
A woman’s voice with a Northern lilt came from the other side of the curtain, snatching Alice from her spiralling thoughts. “Er, why aren’t there any details for Bay Five? Seriously, guys…” She released a frustrated groan, and the curtain clattered open.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t expect… you. I mean, there isn’t any information for Bay Five, so I assumed they were alone.” The woman’s dark eyes flicked between her clipboard and Alice. She cleared her throat and extended her hand. “Sorry, let me start that again. I’m Doctor Khurana, and you are?”
“Alice French.” She shook the doctor’s hand, which was warm and soft. And not smeared with blood and dirt like her own which, once released, she buried in her coat pocket.
The doctor moved around the bedside. She lifted the man’s eyelids with her thumb and shone a light into each unresponsive eye. The torchlight flashed over the bloodied gash on the man’s forehead and Alice winced.
“So, Alice French. Who do we have here?”
“I have literally no idea. I found him in the road as I was driving.”
“Where?”
“Just home after a disastrous evening with?—”
“No, I meant which road?” The doctor gave a short laugh.
“Oh, sorry. I’m not sure of the road. I’m not the best with directions. Somewhere between Clopton and Snitterfield, I think. He was curled up in a ball and groaning. I couldn’t phone for help as I had no signal, so I somehow bundled him into my car and brought him here.”
The doctor paused over the man. She craned her neck around to look at Alice, turning her attention to the scuffed shoes. Her eyes trailed up to Alice’s ripped-stocking-covered knees, skimmed over Alice’s coat and eventually arrived at her face.
I must look a fright… like some cheap tart… or a hooker. God, she thinks I’m a hooker.Alice shifted her weight and cursed the pinch of her toes in her ridiculous heels.
“Right. So you’ve no idea who he is or how he came to be in the middle of the road near Snitterfield?” The doctor frowned. Her eyes, the colour of dark chocolate, fixed Alice with a hard stare.
Alice shook her head and wondered whether now would be a good time to mention how the man came to get that nasty gash on his head. And that he’d probably have bruised ribs from her falling on top of him too.
“He had nothing else with him?” asked the doctor.
“Er… I haven’t been through his pockets, so I don’t know if he has a wallet or anything.”
The doctor checked the pockets of the man’s muddy trousers and shook her head.
Alice folded her arms over her chest, conscious of the scant attire underneath her coat.
The doctor massaged the heel of her hand into her forehead and sighed.“Okay. Well, thank you for your help, Ms French. It was kind of you to bring him in and wait, most people don’t bother.”
“So, I’m free to go?”
“I don’t see why not. It’s late and you look like you’ve had a rough evening yourself.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
The warmth in the doctor’s eyes betrayed her lips, which she held in a tight, professional smile. “Maybe if I could grab your number?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2 (Reading here)
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
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