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She was actually a little more than a minute. Jamie stared at the wall, trying to rearrange his thoughts, but everything seemed jumbled, like words on a page that wouldn’t respond to any of his normal reading techniques. He was out of his depth, and the old panic about whether he’d be able to make sense of anything had returned. And he was hanging on to Anna for dear life.
He wondered if the families of her other patients felt like this. That she could be trusted to steer them through the myriad of decisions that faced them, all of which seemed frighteningly incomprehensible. He guessed they probably did...
‘All right.’ Anna bustled back into the room, making him jump. ‘I’ve spoken to Jon and he was very pleased you were taking an interest. My only reservation is that you remember who you are...’
‘You’re his surgeon, Anna. I’m a concerned family member, who happens to understand the issues involved a little better.’
‘Perfect. In that case, we could go for coffee and something to eat if you like. I skipped lunch...’
He hadn’t eaten either. Jamie wondered if her reasons were the same as his, and let it go. And suddenly he found himself at a loose end. He wouldn’t be driving back down to Hastings tonight—after all, his place was here with Jon, and he’d stay in his London bedsit for as long as it took.
‘That sounds great.’
He followed her out of the building, and she crossed the road, obviously making for somewhere. Jamie didn’t much care where.
‘Italian okay for you? They do food upstairs in the evenings, and it’s pretty quiet around this time.’ She led him through winding back streets to a bustling coffee bar.
‘Yeah. Anything...’
Anna nodded. Upstairs the restaurant area was quiet, just a few evening diners, and she led him to one of the booths that lined the far wall, which afforded them some privacy. Jamie managed to remember to help her out of her coat and lay it down on the bench that ran around the table.
A waiter approached them, wearing a smile and handing Jamie two menus. He passed one to Anna and fixed his gaze onto his own.
The closely typed words seemed to be moving in front of him, locked in a complicated dance, and not heeding his silent exhortations to just sit back down in their usual places and behave. Tonight they were breaking free of the framework he usually applied and continuing with their hedonistic movement.
‘Mmm...’ Anna was studying her menu. ‘Lasagne looks nice... Or tagliatelle. They do a really nice carbonara here, but I think I’m a bit hungrier than that...’
Was she reading the menu to him? Jamie decided that he didn’t care if she was. So what if he could usually manage without betraying his difficulties. This evening, he was too stressed out to use his usual coping strategies.
‘I think I’ll have the carbonara.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I think I will too. We can always have a second course. Are we having wine?’
‘Don’t let me stop you. I’ll stick to water.’
‘Okay.’ She closed the menu decisively and beckoned to the waiter.
* * *
Jamie was obviously struggling. Whatever the argument between him and his brother had been about, it must have been bad. Something life-changing that had parted brothers who had once been close. Since it was clear that neither of them were going to talk about it, Anna had to quell her curiosity and just hope that they could work it out between themselves. The way that Jamie had responded to the knowledge that Jon was in hospital made it quite clear that he wanted to work it out.
And he’d written ‘Everywhere’. The song that gave people hope. In the dark days after her marriage had ended so abruptly, she’d sung it at the top of her voice, along with all the other survival songs in her break-up playlist.
And now she had to get Jamie through tonight. She could see him eyeing the folder that was sticking out of the top of her handbag, and when the waiter brought her a glass of white wine, she took a mouthful and gave Jamie his brother’s medical records.
He opened the folder, running his finger under the printed words. She’d seen him do that before and had thought little of it. But he seemed to be struggling rather more than usual, probably because of the stress he was under.
‘This doesn’t make any sense.’ He wiped his hand across his face. ‘Or is it just me...?’
‘No, it’s not you. When Jon first came to the clinic he made an outpatient appointment with Dr Lewis—he just said that he was away from home and needed general medical advice. He asked primarily about the burns, but he also complained of a whole raft of other unconnected symptoms and Dr Lewis suspected that there were other underlying issues. He told Jon that he wanted to give him a more thorough assessment, which Jon agreed to, so he was booked into the clinic, and referred to me for scar revision.’
‘Right. You’re saying he has something else wrong with him?’
‘We found out that he’d been in hospital in America about six weeks ago. There’s a summary of the notes that they sent through on the next page.’ Anna reminde
d herself of Dr Lewis’s advice to her this morning. Tread carefully. Answer questions and let both Jamie and Jon take things at their own pace.
Jamie turned the page, running his finger along the printed lines. It stopped at the list of medications that Jon been prescribed. ‘These are strong anti-depressants. What aren’t you telling me? And why on earth didn’t you tell me before?’
