Page 95 of Obedience

Dylan laughed. ‘With reverence and respect, G.’

‘Hmm,’ Greta hummed dubiously as she rubbed her lips together, giving Dylan a sideways glance.

‘This car is unreal and so much better on this side,’ Dylan enthused, squeezing and twisting her hands over the tan leather of the steering wheel and giving it a tentative rev. ‘Am I insured?’

‘No, Dylan. I thought I’d add lawbreaker to my ever-growing list of misdemeanours,’ Greta replied, a smile finally tugging at the corner of her lips.

‘Right then.’ Dylan clapped her hands together. ‘First stop, Margarillo, yeah?’

‘Yep,’ Greta replied, pushing her fingers into her hair to give it volume before dabbing at the excess gloss under her bottom lip with her thumb. ‘I’d like to speak to the consultant looking after her, or at the very least the registrar, to get a full and proper picture of what’s happening and discuss her community package of care,’ she said bluntly, carried away with professional momentum before she had considered if it was actually her place to do any of those things. Slowly, Greta flipped the sun visor back up, as Dylan looked at her, brows furrowed. ‘Shit, Dyl, I’m sorry I—’

‘Don’t apologise.’ Dylan let go of the steering wheel and leaned to Greta, one arm extended as she hooked her fingers around the back of her neck. ‘I love that. I’d like to see feisty fucker Vincent in full fuck shit up mode.’ She laughed, pulling Greta in for a kiss.

Smiling, Greta canted her head, her gaze dropping to Dylan’s lips as she wiped her gloss off them with the tips of her fingers, before giving her another quick peck.

***

‘Her chest sepsis has improved significantly. We switched her to oral antibiotics yesterday…we’ll give her at least forty-eight hours on those and hopefully home after the weekend, all being well,’ Dr Summers said to Dylan and Greta at the foot of Margaret’s hospital bed.

Dr Summers was a young-looking registrar, Greta thought, but then most junior doctors looked young to her these days.

‘What is the plan with regards to the package of care for Margaret upon discharge?’ Greta asked pointedly.

Dr Summers looked at Dylan with open confusion, then back to Greta. ‘She has one, doesn’t she? It was my assumption that it will continue.’

‘Have you discussed this with Dylan and Margaret?’ Greta was unable to conceal her irritation; she hated assumptions. Dr Summers bristled, clearly registering a shift in the air with Greta’s tone and line of questioning. ‘Have you asked Dylan if she is coping?’

Dr Summers looked between the two women. ‘I’m sorry but can I ask who you are?’ she said defensively.

With her arms folded over her chest, Greta turned to fully face the young registrar. ‘I’m Dylan’s partner,’ she said resolutely.

Dylan tossed her head around as her mouth gaped, eyes wide she stared in disbelief, burning holes in the side of Greta’s face.

‘I see,’ Dr Summers said, with no hint of judgement. ‘Well, Miss—’

‘Doctor Vincent,’ Greta corrected, sensing Dylan’s awkward, rapid blinking in her peripheral vision.

‘My apologies, Doctor Vincent. If you would like, I can request that the nurses refer Margaret to the complex discharge team so that we can review everything at home.’

‘That would be lovely, thank you, Doctor Summers. I don’t think a discharge planning meeting would be unreasonable. Do you, Dylan?’ Greta’s voice softened, turning warmer as she looked at Dylan, who was still staring at her. ‘Dylan? Is there anything you want to add?’

‘Hmm?’ Dylan hummed, her gaze darting from Greta to her mum, finally resting on Dr Summers. ‘What?’

Dr Summers looked at Dylan with the intense, clinical pity usually reserved for someone in the throes of a mental breakdown. ‘Do you have any questions, Dylan?’ she reiterated slowly.

‘What?’ Dylan said, turning her eyes to Greta, who widened hers in a bid to stop her from saying the word again. ‘No. Nope. Nooo. We’re okay. We’re good, thanks.’ She clapped her hands together once and rubbed them together. ‘We. Are. Good.’

Dr Summers frowned, raking her gaze over Dylan’s face. ‘Oookay, well, I’ll leave you to it. Let me or the nurses know if you need anything.’ She turned to Greta. ‘It was nice to meet you, Doctor Vincent.’

‘You too,’ Greta replied with a weak smile as Dr Summers moved out of the bed space.

‘Good to see you again, Dylan.’

‘Yep,’ Dylan chirped.

Greta turned to fully face Dylan. ‘Are you okay, or do we need to request an urgent sectioning under The Mental Health Act?’ she asked in a low voice. Dylan looked at her, opening her mouth to speak and closing it again as she scanned Greta’s face. ‘Dylan?’ She tilted her head, eyes rapidly scanning Dylan’s blank expression. ‘Jesus Christ, Dyl. Blink twice if you’re in there.’

‘Did you say that for clout?’ Dylan asked softly, her gaze frantically searching Greta’s face.