Burnt (8 page)

‘So how'd you end up here?'

‘A position come up and I applied, never really thinking I'd actually get it, but when I did, it just all seemed to fall into place. Mum was beside herself; she'd have come down the minute we got off the phone and helped us pack if she could. I couldn't get hold of Matthew for a few weeks and by then I'd had to make all the arrangements, so as bad as I feel about surprising him with it and not giving him much choice in the matter, I still believe it was the right decision.'

‘Well, they don't look any the worse for it. You've done a good job with them, Bec – they're great kids.'

Rebecca let a fond smile touch her lips as she looked again at her two children, enjoying the sunshine and, for now at least, content to play with each other without squabbling.

The phone rang again and Rebecca reached across the table to answer it. ‘Hello?'

When silence immediately greeted her once more, she felt the instant grip of anxiety begin to settle in her stomach. A gasp escaped her and Seb reached across and took the phone from her.

‘Who the hell is this?'

She watched as his frown deepened, his gaze turning stony as he listened to the person who had obviously started talking on the end. ‘It's for you,' he said, holding the phone out across the table.

Rebecca reluctantly took the phone and placed it against her ear.

‘You there, Rebecca?'

At the sound of her ex-husband's angry voice, Rebecca grimaced. She could just imagine the response Seb had just received. ‘Matthew? Why the hell didn't you tell me it was you when I answered?'

‘You didn't give me time, I had you on loudspeaker while I dialled the number and by the time I'd picked up the call I was speaking to some fella. Where are the kids?'

Immediately Rebecca's hackles rose. ‘The kids are right here, where else would they be?'

‘You've got your children there while you're entertaining your new boyfriend?'

‘Well, I don't know how entertaining I am, but yes, I have company over.'

‘Who the hell is he?'

‘That's none of your business,' Rebecca said, keeping her tone low as she got up from the table to take the call inside.

‘Who my kids are hanging around
is
my business,' Matthew snapped and Rebecca could hear the fury in his tone.

‘Your
kids
,' she said sarcastically, ‘happen to always be my first priority, and I take offence to you suggesting that just because I have a friend over, I must be neglecting them.'

‘I don't appreciate having my head bitten off by some stranger, demanding to know who the hell I am.'

Rebecca took a breath and realised he might have a point. It probably had been a bit of a shock to have an angry stranger on the end of a phone call when you were expecting someone else altogether. ‘When you didn't speak straight away, Seb thought it was … someone else.' Telling her ex-husband she had a possible stalker harassing her probably wouldn't be very constructive at the moment.

‘Were you calling to talk to the kids? I'll just get them,' she said before he could ask anything she didn't feel like explaining right now. ‘Kids,' she called, ‘your dad's on the phone, come and talk to him!' She pulled the phone away from her ear to hold out to the girls as they both ran excitedly into the house.

Putting it on loudspeaker on the kitchen bench between them so they wouldn't fight over holding the receiver, she left them to fill their father in on their new house, talking a hundred miles a minute, effectively stopping him from getting in any further protest about Rebecca herself, and went back outside.

‘Well, that was awkward,' Seb ventured as she took her seat. Rebecca flashed him a small grin as he continued. ‘I saw you go pale and thought it was your heavy breather. Sorry.'

She shook her head and gave a smile. ‘Apparently he was in the process of changing the phone from hands free, which was why he didn't answer straight up. It's my fault; this stupid prank thing has me overreacting every time the damn phone rings.'

Seb was wearing a frown again and she immediately brushed off his concern. ‘It's fine, really. I'm not letting it bother me any more. If it happens again I'll call the phone company and change my number or something. It's fine.'

He didn't seem reassured, but Rebecca changed the topic, pointedly ignoring his dubious expression. He could dwell on it all he liked, she thought irritably, but she had enough mayhem in her life at the moment. She didn't have the energy to be worrying over something like a stupid prank caller.

Rebecca frowned as she stared down at the next name on the admission form.

Beryl Green.

An image of a broken woman, sobs racking her body at a graveside, flashed through Rebecca's mind and she took a minute to blink away that horrible day.

Opening the curtain of the examination cubicle, she had to school her features into a friendly mask, even after the shock of seeing how terribly the broken and bleeding woman in the bed had aged since she'd last seen her. The ambulance had delivered Beryl to emergency after what she'd said was a fall at home. She was covered in cuts and bruises and a quick read through the thick file showed this wasn't the first time she'd been here.

‘Hello, Mrs Green, the doctor will be here soon, so let's get you cleaned up and have a bit of a look at what's going on,' Rebecca said in a friendly, calm voice.

‘Do I know you?' the woman croaked, peering at her through swollen eyes, one side of her face bruised in the shape of a fist.

‘I used to go to school with your son,' Rebecca said quietly.

‘Charles?'

Before Rebecca could correct her, loud voices from outside carried through into the room, distracting her as her troublemaker alert kicked into overdrive. She kept one ear on the situation as she carefully cleaned up her patient, listening to Sharon's low murmur as she calmly spoke to the irate person at the front desk.

Mrs Green sighed wearily. ‘That's my husband.'

Rebecca looked down at her. ‘Do you want me to call someone to deal with him for you?'

‘Oh, no.
No
, that would just upset him even more. Jock doesn't like the police, you know,' she said with more than a hint of panic in her voice.

‘Mrs Green, if you're being hurt by anyone, there are people who can help you.'

‘No. No one's hurting me. I'm just clumsy, always tripping over things and losing my balance, that's all.' Mrs Green's voice rose defensively.

‘Mr Green! You can't go in there.' Sharon's voice carried over the commotion in the waiting room and Rebecca gasped as a wild-eyed man with untidy grey hair came bursting through the curtain.

‘Excuse me!' Rebecca said, raising her voice and making sure she eyed the man with her coldest glare. ‘What do you think you're doing in here?' She placed herself between the man and her patient.

‘That's my wife. The silly cow out the front wouldn't let me see her!' he yelled.

‘You can't just come bursting in here like that! The curtains are drawn for a reason. You will get out of here this minute, or I'll have you removed, by the police if necessary. Do you understand?'

‘She's my wife,' he repeated stubbornly.

‘I don't care if she's Queen bloody Mary; it doesn't give you the right to be obnoxious in a hospital ward. If she wants to see you when I've finished cleaning her up, then we'll come and get you, but until the doctor has checked her out,
you
are not allowed to be in here.'

‘Whaddaya mean
if
? Of course she'll see me. Why? Have you been telling them something stupid, Beryl?'

Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw the woman shrink even further, so she placed a hand on the woman's arm in reassurance, standing her ground. ‘She hasn't been saying anything – but if you don't leave, I'll be pressing charges against you myself,' she snapped.

For a minute, the man's blurry eyes narrowed on Rebecca with thunderous fury, then a voice behind him said, ‘Come on, Dad. We can wait outside until they're finished.'

Rebecca shifted her gaze to the thin man who'd stepped closer to his father in order to intervene. She hadn't noticed him before now. The older man, although still radiating hostility, headed back out to the waiting room, mumbling unpleasant expletives as he went.

‘Sorry about that. I'll keep an eye on him.'

Rebecca sent a slight nod of thanks to the younger man. For a moment, an image of a face similar to his flashed before her eyes and she realised he must be Marty's younger brother. She searched her mind for a name, but couldn't seem to recall what it was. She couldn't return the younger man's reassuring smile. If she had her way, his father would be sitting in a cell at the police station overnight, maybe for a lot longer if his frightened wife ever summoned up the courage to report him to the authorities one day.

‘It might be best if you took him home. We'll call you when your mother needs to be picked up.' Removing her hand from the woman's arm, she reached across and grabbed the edge of the curtain.

He paused as though he wanted to say something, but closed his mouth abruptly and followed his father out to the waiting room.

With a quick flick of her wrist, Rebecca pulled the curtain back into place and faced her patient. ‘It's all right. He's gone now.'

The woman lay back against the pillows behind her head with a sad sigh of defeat. ‘You shouldn't have done that,' she said in a tired voice.

‘Would you like me to get you some help? You don't have to go back home tonight.'

‘And just where would you suggest I go, dear?'

‘There are women's refuges, where they have people who can help you,' Rebecca said quietly.

Beryl gave a bitter laugh, and winced as it pulled against her tender ribs. ‘I'm too old for it to make any difference nowadays.'

The doctor came in through the curtain and began the examination, gently feeling for broken bones and categorising the injuries. Rebecca followed him out as he went to fill in the paperwork at the nurses' station.

‘Rick, can we put her in a bed upstairs for a night or two? I really don't think it's a good idea to just release her.'

The doctor eyed her over the chart he was preparing. ‘Does she want to press charges?'

Rebecca frowned. ‘No. But if she could just be in a safe environment for a few days, away from his influence, I think I can convince her to consider it.'

‘Rebecca, what you want to do is admirable and I feel for the woman, but you know damn well unless she's willing to make some radical changes, there's very little likelihood of her actually pressing charges against him. Take a look at the file – these injuries go back decades. What do you think the odds of her doing anything about it now are?'

‘So we just keep turning a blind eye?'

‘There's nothing we can do. Come on, you're no first-year RN – you know the game by now.'

Rebecca nodded: she knew the game all right. The women who streamed through the halls of the city hospitals made up an endless, faceless river of pain. The sheer enormity of the problem made her feel small and helpless. But here, in her hometown, she wanted to make a difference. ‘Come on, Rick,' she pleaded.

‘Sorry, I don't have the beds to spare, even if I thought it was a viable solution. Save your energy for the patients who want our help.'

Rebecca stared after him and silently swore up a storm. She knew the effect dealing with patients had on health professionals. It was easy to burn out in this job – but she swore that if she ever began to think like Rick, she'd leave before it made her a jaded, disillusioned shell of her former self.

Despite her best attempts to convince Beryl that she had options, she called the number she'd been given and asked the man who answered to come and pick up his mother.

When she let Beryl know they were coming, she asked about him.

‘That would be Charles. He's my youngest,' she said with a long sigh. ‘The only son I have left now.'

Rebecca felt the condolences stick to the top of her mouth like a bite of peanut butter sandwich. In her current emotional state, she wasn't sure Beryl would cope with the memory of that long-ago accident and Rebecca's own part in it.

Walking her out to the waiting room as Charles came to the window of the front desk, Rebecca once again had a strong premonition of something bad. How did a son allow his own mother to be beaten and hurt like that? Why didn't he intervene and remove her from the situation? She found it difficult to watch him escort his mother through the doors a few minutes later, and a chill crept its icy fingers across her skin as she watched – helpless to act on the woman's behalf.

She almost wished that the monster had rendered the woman unconscious. It would have been more clear cut: she could have called the police herself and pressed charges. It was probably the only way it would ever happen in this situation – and even then, as soon as she was conscious she'd likely just drop the charges. Rebecca understood Rick had good reason to be jaded over the situation, but she was damned if she would ever be able to simply shrug it off and move on to the next patient as easily as he seemed to.

Rebecca heard the phone ringing inside the house and cursed under her breath. Why was it the minute you were up to your elbows in something (in this case, weeding), the phone rang – or worse, visitors dropped by? She was tempted to ignore it; a tinge of apprehension flickered through her at the thought of it being that eerie, dead silence on the other end once more. She hadn't mentioned it to Seb again, but it seemed to be happening more frequently in the last few days – sometimes up to three times a day, and late at night.

The ringing stopped just as she reached for the handset and she released the involuntary breath she'd been holding. She eyed the phone warily for a few more seconds before heading to the kitchen sink to wash the dirt from her hands. Weeding had lost its shine, the sick feeling hadn't quite left her stomach, and she decided it was as good a time as any for a coffee break.