“Can you hear me, John?” Sarah asked, bending over him.
McKirrop stopped moving his head and Sarah felt encouraged by the response. She nodded to the nurse. “I think he can hear.”
“John, can you hear me?”
McKirrop grunted weakly and moved his head to the left.
“You’re in hospital, John, the same one you were in last week after you were beat up in the cemetery. I’m Dr Lasseter. Remember me?” Sarah spoke each word slowly and clearly.
McKirrop said his first word, a slurred attempt at ‘cemetery’.
“You’ve had another knock on the head. Can you remember anything about it?”
“Cemetery...” mumbled McKirrop. “Yobs... beat me up.”
“That was last time John,” said Sarah.
“Coffin. . They dug up... boy’s coffin...”
“That’s right,” said Sarah. She was pleased to hear that McKirrop did not appear to be suffering from any obvious brain damage. “They took the boy’s body John. You tried to stop them.”
McKirrop moved his head again as if frustrated at the struggle to get words out. “Opened the coffin... opened the coffin...” His voice began to trail off as the effort of speaking tired him out.
“That’s right John. That’s excellent. You remember what happened. We’ll have you right as rain in no time. Rest easy now. Get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.” Sarah got up and stood beside the nurse, looking down at McKirrop as he sank back into sleep.
“That’s fifty pence I owe you,” said the nurse.
“I’d better call Tyndall,” said Sarah.
“At this time?” exclaimed the nurse.
“He wanted to be informed when McKirrop came round.”
“I just hope for your sake that he included three thirty in the morning!” said the nurse.
The nurse had planted the seeds of doubt in Sarah’s mind. Tyndall had meant, as soon as McKirrop came round, hadn’t he?He hadn’t meant, first thing in the morning... had he? She tapped her fingers on the phone while she considered whether or not she should make the call. “Oh to hell with it,” she concluded and made it.
“Tyndall,” said the voice at the other end. He had a frog in his throat. Sarah knew that he had been asleep.
“Dr Tyndall? It’s Sarah Lasseter here at HTU. John McKirrop recovered consciousness ten minutes ago.”
“Did he indeed?” replied Tyndall, clearing his throat. “Is he lucid?”
Sarah gave a silent prayer of thanks that Tyndall didn’t seem to think the call unnecessary. “Yes sir, a bit groggy but I don’t think there’s any serious damage.”
“Does he remember anything about how he got his injuries?”
“No, but he remembers the incident in the cemetery a couple of weeks ago so there’s no impairment to long term memory.”
“Really? What’s he been saying about that?”
“He remembers being beaten up and the boy’s coffin being opened up.”
“What else?” asked Tyndall after a short pause.
“That’s about it, sir. He’s very tired and I didn’t want to press him. He’s sleeping at the moment.”
“Good,” said Tyndall. “Let him rest. You are to be congratulated Doctor.”
“Thank you sir, what should I do about the police and the priest who wanted to be kept informed?”
“What about them?”
“The police wanted to speak to Mr McKirrop as soon as he came round.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I think we can leave calling them till the morning. It’s not as if Mr McKirrop is going anywhere, is he?”
“No sir.”
“Good night, Doctor. Thank you for letting me know.”
Sarah replaced the receiver and felt pleased. She did a quick check of the patients and told the night staff nurse she was going back to the residency. She left with a smile on her face... and fifty pence in her pocket. When she got to her room, she was torn between making herself some coffee or getting directly into bed. Knowing that she would only have about three hours sleep at most, she opted for bed.
Sarah could feel the adrenaline surge of the last hour or so clearing from her veins, allowing tiredness to replace it. By the time she had laid out her clothes in order — just in case — she could feel her eyelids coming together. Her arm felt heavy as she reached out to turn off the bedside light. Within seconds she was asleep.
Sarah had an undisturbed three hours sleep before her alarm went off and she complained out loud as she always did. She reached out and made several attempts to connect with the “off” button before the room was restored to silence.
“Not already,” she grumbled. “It can’t possibly be...” But it was, and she was up and getting washed after a few more minutes. She was pleased to find Paddy Duncan at breakfast in the dining-room; she hadn’t seen him since the Chinese meal.
“Rough night?” Paddy asked.
“Not really,” replied Sarah. “Well, yes and no,” she added after reconsidering.
“What does that mean?” asked Paddy.
Sarah told him about the McKirrop case.
“Well done, you,” said Paddy enthusiastically. “And you say Logan gave him up for lost?”
Sarah nodded and said, “I think he saw him as a sort of organ supermarket.”
“That’s a particular hobby horse of his,” said Paddy. “He reckons that people should have to opt out rather than in when it comes to transplant permission. It’s a view that’s gaining popularity.”
“It’s something I’ve not really considered,” said Sarah.
“Maybe you should,” said Paddy.
“Why?”
“If you’re working in a place like HTU, it’s a problem that’s going to come up quite a lot.”
“Good point,” agreed Sarah.
“How are you getting on with dear Dr Logan anyway?” asked Paddy. “Any better?”
“I don’t think I could go that far,” replied Sarah. “But I did let him know that I’m not his door- mat and it seems to have improved matters.”
“Good for you,” said Paddy.
“How about you? Were you called out last night?”
“Twice,” replied Paddy. “A patient we carried out a routine hernia operation on last Monday. He’s developed a wound infection and it’s been a bit slow to respond to treatment. I think it might be Pseudomonas so I changed him to PYOPEN last night when his temperature was pushing a hundred and three. We should get the result of the lab test some time this morning. They were going to do a direct oxidase test on the wound exudate. I just hope to God I was right.”
“I’m sure you were,” said Sarah.
She looked at her watch and wiped her mouth with her napkin before saying, “Another day of work and play beckons. See you.”
“See you Sarah.”
Despite not having had much sleep, Sarah had a spring in her step as she climbed the stairs to HTU and walked in through the swing doors. Yesterday had been a good day and she hoped that the effects were going to last for some time. She remembered what her father had once said about medicine. “Every now and then you get a day that makes all the rotten ones worth while. Once you’ve tasted success it’s like a drug. You just go on wanting to have that feeling again. It’s like being allowed to play God for a few hours.”
Almost at once she could sense that something was wrong. Sister Roche crossed her field of view but failed to acknowledge her. Another of the nurses smiled as she passed but didn’t seem anxious to talk. Sarah went into the duty room but found it empty. She came out again and walked through to Alpha 4 to take a look at John McKirrop. His bed was empty. The linen had been removed and the hi-tech equipment on both sides of the bay lay dark and silent.