The Thorn of Truth by S. L. Russell

Author:S. L. Russell
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782643562
Publisher: Lion Hudson
Published: 2021-02-23T00:00:00+00:00

FIVE

When I changed the dressing on my neck the next morning it looked, I thought, slightly inflamed. Blisters had formed, but I assumed that was to be expected. Perhaps the antibiotics were taking their time to bite. My mood of the previous day persisted, and I did what I could with a new dressing, draped a scarf apparently carelessly, and went to work. The Leaman case was, for the time being, in the hands of someone else, but there was work to do, and no doubt a backlog, despite the heroic efforts of Janet to disperse my share of incoming cases among my colleagues. At the very least there would be paperwork to square away and routine e-mails to answer. I hailed Janet as I passed and swept into my room.

Perhaps she noticed something unusual; I didn’t normally breeze in exuding expectant confidence. Perhaps I was even humming. I had barely hung up my coat, pulled up my chair, and opened my computer when she sidled in. For some reason Janet rarely simply walked; she either stomped or slithered. That day she was serpentine, an impression strengthened by the narrowness of her eyes.

I looked up. “What?”

She didn’t answer, but, to my surprise, came closer and leaned over the desk, frowning. “There’s something wrong.”

“With what?”

“With you.” Then she sniffed.

“What are you talking about?”

She pulled a face. “Anna, that’s gross.”

“What is, for heaven’s sake?”

“Take off that scarf.” Matching her frown, I did so. “You need to look in a mirror. Your dressing is wet. I think your wound is weeping, and I have to tell you it smells.”

She was right. I covered it up again and went down the corridor to the washroom. Gingerly I peeled the dressing away and found that the redness had intensified, and the blisters had spread and burst. It was not a pleasant sight.

Janet came in after me and closed the door. “Have you got a clean one?”

“No. I just changed it before I left the house.”

“You need to get that seen to.”

I bit my lip. “I’ve got a lot to get through. Maybe at lunchtime.”

“Don’t leave it. The work will still be here when you get back.”

I turned to her. My light mood had crashed, and I felt foolish tears prickle my eyes. “You’ve already done a lot of covering for me.”

She shook her head. “A few more hours won’t make much difference. To be honest, I don’t think you gave yourself long enough to recover.”

I heaved a sigh. “And to think I was feeling better this morning than I have for a long time. I was even thinking I might have a go at resuscitating my London career.”

“What?”

“Never mind. You’re right. I’ll get myself back to the hospital. Sorry.”

As I left she was shaking her head.

Luckily when I got to A and E the same young doctor who had treated me on Saturday evening was again on duty, and he remembered me. I had to wait some time to be seen, and sitting on that

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