Limits Page 7

  Soft footsteps broke the silence of the corridor and Pav glanced up to see Don standing across from him with his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side and his eyes narrowed at Pav. Without saying anything Don jerked his head and then shuffled off in the other direction. Pav took it that he was meant to follow. His eyes flicked back to Millie, but she hadn’t moved from her position, still typing and clicking through the images. His hand went to the back of his neck and he dropped his head to look at his shoes.

  What was he even doing here? After being forced out of the lecture theatre, Pav had resolved to put the entire incident out of him mind. Millie’s business was hers alone and it was clear that his help was not welcome. Really not welcome. Christ, she could have broken her back with how violently she’d leapt out of his arms when he tried to lift her. Women responding to Pav with abject terror was not something he’d ever experienced before or that he was super-keen to go through again.

  But however hard he tried, he just couldn’t put her out of his mind. After all, it was his fault she’d been up there in the first place. She’d tried to tell him that she couldn’t do it. And now, whenever Pav closed his eyes, all he could see was that beautiful face draining of all colour before she sank to the ground like a ragdoll.

  Since he’d witnessed that, Pav had been going over all his interactions with her in his mind, and feeling like a complete wanker. It was safe to say that Pav was not very good at being ignored. He was a centre-of-attention type of guy, always had been. And he was good with people, dammit! People liked him; they warmed to him. He was a funny son of a bitch. So, not being able to soften Millie up with one of his smiles (something he knew worked on the opposite sex), or even the inordinate number of coffees he’d waited years for Doreen to prepare before each MDT, had been extremely frustrating. And he knew he’d let that frustration show. More than once. Each time thinking that she didn’t make eye contact because she couldn’t be bothered to interact like a normal human. Not that she simply … couldn’t.

  Pav sighed as he backed away from the door and followed the old man, who was waiting at the end of the corridor for the lift to arrive. The doors slid open and both men stepped inside.

  ‘I’m not sure what you think you’re playing at, young man,’ Don cut into the silence once the doors had slid closed, ‘but my advice to you would be to stay away from Millie.’ The doors opened at the ground floor. ‘Good day,’ Don clipped before he strode out into the large atrium and towards the exit.

  ‘Hey,’ said Pav, jogging after him (he might look at least a hundred and fifty but he moved like a teenager on crack). ‘Listen. Wait!’ He caught up with Don and met the shorter man’s quick strides with his longer ones. ‘I just … Look, I was worried about her, all right? It’s not every day a woman collapses at a Grand Round I’ve organized. And I don’t care what you say; she does need to be checked out physically. She went down like a stone. And … and you lot are making her work? Shouldn’t she have gone home? What kind of sweatshop are you running down in radiology?’

  Don sighed and his power-walking slowed to more of a saunter. ‘You’re worried about her.’ It was a statement rather than a question, and Don fixed Pav with a curious stare. Pav threw up his hands and huffed out a breath.

  ‘Well, yes, of course I’m worried about her. She collapsed, didn’t she? I mean, that’s enough to worry anyone.’

  ‘But you’re the only one spying on her, hours later, eh?’

  Pav rolled his eyes and shrugged. What was the old codger getting at? Don chuckled, seeming for some reason in much better spirits than he had been a moment ago.

  ‘You still haven’t explained why she’s still here and why she hasn’t been examined,’ Pav gritted out as he followed Don into the multi-storey car park. They came to a stop beside a low-slung sports car. To Pav’s surprise Don beeped open the locks. He’d never seen such an incongruous pairing. Don sported elbow patches, for crying out loud. What was he doing driving around in an Aston Martin Vantage?

  ‘Millie is a complicated girl,’ Don said carefully. ‘She likes … she likes control, and she sets all these … limits for herself that she thinks she has to live within. Everything for her is very restricted. If she’s pushed out of her comfort zone too far, then …’ The old man trailed off and frowned down at his car keys. ‘Well, let’s just say what happened today is just the tip of the iceberg. She panicked, she hyperventilated, and, as you know from medical school, if you hyperventilate for long enough and fast enough your body will shut you down. In Millie’s mind she’d gone beyond her limits and that triggered her anxiety. The only method she has to get herself back under control is the routine of work and the techniques she’s learnt from Anwar. She’s nearly gone through the entire department backlog of reporting today, and she’ll go on until late evening. Eventually she’ll feel calm enough to go home.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Pav breathed, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘I didn’t realize she was so …’ He trailed off, unsure how to complete the sentence. He cringed when he thought back to how he’d treated her in the past. He’d actually taken some sort of sick pleasure from baiting her, thinking she was uptight and snooty instead of having the real problems Don was describing. ‘Okay, well, thanks for explaining all that. I’d better be –’

  ‘She could change, you know.’ Don cut him off as he turned to face Pav fully, narrowing his eyes at his face. ‘Millie doesn’t think she’s strong enough, but she is. She’s already achieved so much since she started with Anwar. Anyone who’s been through … well, let’s just say she’s got it in her to change, to try for happiness. All she needs is a little push.’

  ‘Uh …’ Pav trailed off, backing away from the car. He hadn’t realized that Millie herself had had therapy with Anwar, although when he thought about it and what an advocate she was for CBT it made perfect sense. ‘Right, well … as long as she’s okay – physically, I mean – then I guess … ’ He cleared his throat, becoming a bit uncomfortable under Don’s steely gaze. Was the old bastard expecting him to be the one to give Dr Cray-Cray the ‘push’ she needed? Turning to jog to his own car, Pav spared a quick glance and a wave over his shoulder at Don, who was now leaning against his Vantage, watching Pav’s retreat.

  Whatever the old man thought, Pav was not going to get involved. He had enough on his plate, he reasoned, without adding a lost cause into the mix.

  Even if his plans for presenting at the conference went up in smoke there was no way he would be able to take on someone like Dr Morrison. A sudden vision of a more dishevelled, more human-looking Millie in his office, with her hair down around her face and a blush on her cheeks, swam into his mind and he paused as he was about to pull open his car door.

  She’s set limits for herself, he heard Don’s voice repeat. She could change, you know. She doesn’t think she’s strong enough, but she is …

  Pav shook his head to clear it. The last thing he needed was that sort of complication.

  *****

  ‘Okay, I’ll admit it. I was wrong.’

  Pav looked up in surprise from his computer. His office door was open and in it stood a sheepish-looking Don. Pav put down the batch of CVs he was holding, grateful for the interruption. He hated paperwork. It was one of the reasons being Surgical Director was not working for him. Going through CVs for applications for his own specialty was bad enough, without adding in this shit.

  ‘Whilst I generally enjoy others being wrong and me being right, you’re going to have to be more specific.’

  Don pushed open the door fully and shuffled into the office before sitting down heavily in the chair opposite him.

  ‘Please, make yourself at home,’ Pav told him with an amused smile.

  Don took a deep breath. ‘She’s not getting any better,’ he said, a frown marring his forehead and worry pinching his mouth.

  ‘Okay,’ Pav said slowly as he sat up a little straighter and cocked his head to the side. It had been a week since the lecture theatre incident a
nd still, even now, he found his mind wandering to Millie pretty much all the damn time. He’d done what Don had told him to do: he’d stayed away from the radiology department, away from her – but he couldn’t get her out of his head. Something about her was pulling at him constantly. Maybe it was the vulnerability he could see under that cold shell, maybe it was the way her arse looked in those bloody pencil skirts she wore constantly – whatever it was he didn’t seem to be able to control it. ‘And what does this have to do with me exactly?’

  Don’s eyes flashed and his mouth turned down. ‘Boy, if you’re not interested in helping, I won’t waste my time.’ He stood up; Pav got the impression he would have jumped up and stormed out if his stiff joints had allowed. As it was, the drawn-out process involving Don pushing slowly up to standing as the sounds of the crepitis from his joints filled the room along with his low-muttered ‘Buggers’ gave Pav the opportunity he needed. He leapt to his feet and rounded the desk, blocking Don’s exit before he’d even fully straightened.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Pav said, holding both hands up in a placating gesture. ‘I’m a smartarse. You’ll get used to it.’ Don’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at Pav, but the corners of his mouth pulled up into a reluctant smile. ‘Please, sit down.’ Both men went back to their chairs and Pav decided to turn on the charm, unleashing his mega-watt smile on Don.

  ‘Save that nonsense, Stavros,’ Don said through a chuckle. ‘It’s not me you have to impress, you big peacock.’

  ‘Peacock?’ Pav’s smile fell a notch and he leaned back into his chair. ‘What do you – ?’

  ‘Pfft,’ Don said with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘Don’t think I haven’t seen you strutting about this hospital, rolling over everyone in your path and getting your way. Youngest in the family, were you?’

  Pav shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pursed his lips. ‘I don’t think you came here to talk about me.’

  ‘No,’ said Don with a smug smile, taking Pav’s non-answer as a yes. ‘I didn’t.’ He paused and cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes for a moment before squaring his shoulders and meeting Pav’s eyes with fresh determination. ‘So. Millie. She’s … well …’ He trailed off, staring beyond Pav and obviously searching for the right words. ‘As her supervisor, I –’

  ‘Supervisor?’ Pav sat up a little straighter. ‘Why does she need a supervisor?’

  Don frowned across at him and sighed. ‘Ah, I thought you knew.’

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘Millie’s … not a consultant.’

  Pav’s eyebrows leapt up into his hairline. ‘What is she then?’

  ‘She’s a senior registrar.’

  Pav rocked back in his chair in shock and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. ‘Why in the fuck is she acting up as a consultant then?’

  ‘She’s passed all the radiology exams, and when I say she’s passed I mean she’s got 100 per cent.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She didn’t drop a single mark. Not one. Nobody has ever performed as well in postgraduate exams.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘She knows more than all the consultants in the department combined. She had to act up. I supervise all her on-calls and her reporting but we can’t have her as a normal trainee.’

  ‘No, I’d imagine that would be … tricky.’

  ‘So, as her supervisor I’ve spent a lot of time with her. More than anyone, I think, even Anwar, and slowly she’s let me in. I owe her a lot. I’d have to have retired a while back if it wasn’t for Millie. But –’

  ‘Why would you have retired?’

  ‘I can’t work all the new-fangled computer gubbins,’ Don grumbled. ‘Millie looks after all that for me now. But … well, you might not have noticed but I’m getting on a bit. Can’t keep going forever. The missus has been on at me for a while about retiring. Wants to go on a cruise.’ He snorted, his face twisting in disgust. ‘What do I want to go around on a bloody great boat for? Damn fool idea. But women … well …’ He paused and rubbed his chin, his mouth hitching up at the side. ‘Son, fifty years of experience has told me that it’s best to just go along with what they want. The alternative is ugly, and my wife can drag that ugly out for years, believe you me.’ He shook his head and shuddered. ‘I forgot my mother-in-law’s birthday party in 1979 – one pint led to another at the pub; anyway it was well into the eighties before she forgave me. Sure, day to day she was much the same, but I knew: little things: no pork scratchings on the shopping list, no black pudding with my fried breakfast – cruel and unusual punishment … for over five years. No, I know better than to piss the wife off. So that means a cruise and not long after that I’ll have to retire. Millie needs to be able to … interact a bit better by then, and she needs … Look, she’s a complicated girl and she’s had a difficult time of it so far.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Pav sat forward in his chair, his eyes sharp on Don.

  ‘That’s her story to tell.’

  ‘She’s not exactly an open book.’

  ‘Used to easy women are you, son?’

  ‘What? No … I just –’

  ‘Course you are. Bet you have them queuing up, a dandy like you.’

  ‘Hey! So I’m a peacock and a dandy am I? Tell me, Don, did you come here just to insult me or did you actually have a point?’

  ‘It’s your bloody fault she’s slipped back, you stupid sod!’ Don exploded. ‘Months of work with Anwar and coaxing her out of her shell and you buggered it all up in five minutes flat.’

  Silence followed Don’s outburst and a stab of guilt pricked at Pav’s conscience. He had practically forced her up on that stage. She’d warned him that she couldn’t do it. She’d pleaded with him, for fuck’s sake.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ he muttered, holding up his hand to Don, who had started to push up again from the chair. ‘Look, I’d like to help but I’m not sure how much I can do. If you hadn’t noticed, she’s a mite bit terrified of me.’

  ‘Millie’s terrified of everything,’ Don came back. ‘I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I know you’ve got plenty of friends around to help you out. All I’m asking is that you try.’

  Chapter 9

  Millie wuvs books, don’t cha?

  ‘Millie!’

  Millie turned in her chair and smiled. Rosie had run full pelt into her office and was standing in the middle of the floor with her arms straight up in the air. Millie didn’t think there had ever been anyone who expressed this amount of delight in seeing her. Quick as a flash Rosie lowered her arms and flung herself into Millie’s arms. Physical contact wasn’t always easy for Millie. Her childhood certainly had not been filled with it, and as an adult her personality did not seem to inspire warm relationships full of affection. So touch wasn’t something she was used to, and the shock of it usually caused her to flinch away (this ensured that anyone who did bother trying to be physically affectionate with her, which to be honest was very rare, was put off by her apparently negative reaction). But with Rosie she hadn’t been given any option. The little girl was all about kisses and cuddles and there was no way Millie could have kept her at arm’s length.

  ‘You look sad,’ Rosie said, putting her small hands either side of Millie’s face and squeezing her cheeks.

  ‘I’m not sad,’ Millie lied as she closed her arms around the warm little body. ‘How could anyone be sad with you hanging about?’

  The truth was that the hollow feeling Millie had endured to some extent her whole life was gradually expanding. She felt like emptiness was slowly pulling her under, sucking her down into a dark hole. Collapsing in front of the entire hospital had been mortifying. It was the ultimate loss of control, and Millie was all about control. It was like a slap in the face telling her to respect her limits, to get back in her box and live her narrow life. Punishing her for thinking she could function like other people.

  ‘Hey, honey.’ Millie’s eyes flicked to Libby at the doorway. She gave her a much smaller smile than she had given he
r daughter and was about to look away when she realized she wasn’t alone. Kira was standing next to her, and, bizarrely, she was smiling too.

  ‘Hi Dr M.,’ Kira said, still smiling, although it was starting to look a little forced. This may have been down to the fact that Millie could not seem to muster one in return; the Rosie-inspired happy expression had slowly faded when she noticed Kira in the doorway.

  ‘Hello,’ Millie said, trying with all her might to get her mouth to cooperate so the ends would at least tip up; but her anxiety was getting the better of her again. She looked back at Libby. ‘How long do you need me to have her?’ Libby and Kira exchanged looks, and then, to Millie’s confusion, both of them moved into the room. Libby took Don’s seat and Kira perched on Millie’s desk.

  ‘We’ve actually come to talk to you, Millie,’ Libby said carefully. Millie pushed her chair back a couple of inches, still with Rosie in her lap, and frowned.

  ‘Oh … uh …’ There was literally no reason why these two could possibly want to talk to her – unless … She bit her lip. Had Libby found out about the grant? Surely Pav wouldn’t have told her. He didn’t seem –

  ‘So, tonight? You free to come?’ Kira’s voice cut through Millie’s thoughts and she realized she’d missed some sort of suggestion.

  ‘Wh-what?’

  ‘We’re going out to the mess do tonight at The Nag’s Head,’ Libby said. ‘Jamie’s babysitting. We thought it might be fun.’ Millie thought about a crowded pub, filled with people who actively disliked her, and she shuddered.

  ‘No.’ Her answer was short and forceful. She knew it sounded rude.

  ‘Come on,’ Kira wheedled, seemingly immune to the rudeness. ‘It’ll be a laugh. Few shots of tequila and you’ll be well up for it.’ Millie opted not to inform Kira that she did not drink and the biochemical reasons behind it at that juncture.

  ‘I just … I can’t,’ she told them, pulling Rosie’s hair out of her face and re-fixing the grip that had come loose.