awful for him. Imagine that happening on your first day!’
‘He seemed to deal with it all OK.’ Madison chewed her lip as she thought back over the day. ‘He just got on with it, I guess.’
‘Only because he had no choice,’ Helen pointed out. ‘Imagine starting a new job and your mentor and senior dropping dead. Poor thing, I bet it was all left for him to carry.’
‘Not all of it,’ Madison answered, but her response was a touch too quick, just a tad too defensive. As busy and as awful as her own day had been, for Guy it must have been far worse. Despite the fact the hospital was brand-new, they’d had a generous number of patients and Guy, with no senior on hand and no orientation day behind him, had had to deal with the lot. From critically ill patients to just the basics everyone encountered when they started a new job—such as where the loo was located, the coffee-mugs, the X-ray pads. It was the first time Madison had actually thought about it, the first time she had really taken stock and looked at the events from someone else’s perspective. A wave of guilt washed over her. Throughout the day, Guy had repeatedly asked her how she was bearing up, had even made her a cup of tea and bought her a sandwich from the machine at around two when he’d realised that she hadn’t eaten. And what had she done for him?
Precisely nothing!
‘Gosh.’ Helen blinked. ‘What a terrible start.’
‘It was.’ Madison grimaced. ‘I’m going to try and not think about it, at least until I’ve got Emily into bed.’
‘Good idea,’ Helen agreed sympathetically. ‘Switch that brain off for a couple of hours—it must have been an exhausting day. Do you want to stay here for dinner?’
Madison was about to say no, to shake her head and call for Emily to collect her things, but the prospect of going home, of pulling one of many frozen casseroles out of the freezer and attempting to be normal after the day she’d had, had Madison changing her shake to a nod.
‘That would be great, if you’re sure you don’t mind.’
‘Mind? Life’s so much easier when Richard’s got someone to play with. And, before you ask, despite Emily’s guilty look, she was actually a delight last night. They were both asleep by eight.’
‘Good.’ Madison gave a relieved smile, then chewed her lip nervously, taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘Helen? Given what’s happened today, I actually can’t see me managing to get away on time for a while.’ Madison gave a guilty shuffle in her seat, which Helen easily interpreted.
‘Don’t worry if you’re late home over the next couple of weeks, it doesn’t matter a scrap. You were always going to be busy, with the department opening, and with what’s just happened you can hardly be expected to just walk out at three-thirty!”
‘You don’t mind?’ Madison checked, relief flooding her.
They had an arrangement with childcare that only two women could have engineered or understood. Both were single parents, both lived in the same street, both were nurses, which meant guilt heaped upon guilt, trying to juggle work and motherhood. Two years ago, moaning over their questionable cappuccinos, courtesy of the canteen’s new machine, they had come to a tentative agreement. Madison dropped Emily off at seven each morning, leaving Helen to give her breakfast and do the school run, as well as picking Emily up from school. Madison’s shifts normally finished at three-thirty but as a NUM her work hours were as close to nine to five as nursing got, and even when she’d worked at her old hospital, which was further away, more often than not Madison’s car had pulled into Helen’s drive only a moment or two after Helen’s. But it was great to know that Emily was taken care of and not to have to rush away from work if the situation dictated that she stay. In return for Helen doing the school run, Madison had Richard to sleep over one night a week to enable Helen to do a night shift—or a ‘sanity shift’, as Helen called it.
And two years in, despite Madison moving to the new hospital, despite the occasional hiccup when one of them was sick, somehow the system they had created that long-ago morning still stood strong.
‘I don’t a mind a bit if you’re late for a couple of weeks,’ Helen carried, her voice a touch higher as she asked for a favour of her own. ‘Actually, it will make me feel less guilty, asking you for a favour! I need a babysitter on Friday night.’
‘Are you doing an extra “sanity shift”?’ Madison grinned. ‘Sure, no problem. I’d be happy to have him. We can both be guilt-free about dumping on each other.’
‘Not me, I’m afraid. Guilt’s going to be my best friend for the next few days.’ Helen winced, then, screwing her eyes closed, she blurted out the last four words Madison had expected to hear.
‘I’ve got a date!’
‘Oh!’ Madison blinked. ‘With a man?’
‘No,’ Helen answered, with her tongue firmly in her cheek. ‘With a hot-looking lesbian I met. Of course with a man!’
‘I’m sorry.’ Madison gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I had no idea you were seeing anyone.’
‘I’m not—at least not yet. It’s our first date and if I ask Mum to babysit she’s going to read a million and one things into it. It’s just easier not to say anything at this stage.’
‘So, what’s he like?’ Madison asked. ‘How did you meet him?’
At the school playground, of all places.’ Helen giggled. ‘He’s a single dad. He just moved to the area. His wife died. Ages ago,’ Helen added hastily. ‘So he’s got no baggage.’
‘My husband died ages ago,’ Madison reminded her, ‘and I’m still paying excess.’
‘But you’re so-o complicated,’ Helen teased.
‘If you’re over thirty, you’ve got baggage,’ Madison said dryly. ‘So, does this single dad with zero baggage have a name?’
‘Matthew.’
‘A job?’
‘He’s a carpenter.’
‘How many kids?’
‘One.’ Helen gave a tiny shudder. ‘Thank God. Imagine if he had triplets?’
‘Perish the thought,’ Madison said, pulling a face. ‘So where’s your man taking you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Helen beamed. ‘He just said to wear smart-casual.’
‘Which could mean anything,’ Madison warned. ‘You should have seen what Guy turned up in today. Jeans, sneakers and a T-shirt. And when I told him to get changed, all he did was put on a name badge.’ To her utter indignation Helen started to laugh. ‘It’s not funny,’ Madison snapped.
‘Oh, but it is.’ Helen giggled. ‘Given what a stickler you are for uniforms!’
‘I am not,’ Madison replied hotly. ‘I just like to look smart.’ Helen raised a very knowing eyebrow, which Madison badly wanted to ignore but found she couldn’t. ‘It makes the patients feel more secure to see a well-presented staff member. A doctor rocking up to the bedside in jeans hardly inspires confidence.’
