Sitting opposite her, Sophie took a deep breath. "Out of ten, where one is lovely and ten is crappiest day ever, what exactly are we talking about here?"
"About a nine and a half,” Kate said.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Sophie asked her.
"Not really," Kate said.
"Is it just the funeral - and I'm not saying that isn't absolutely enough on its own - but has there been something else as well?" Sophie asked.
Kate nodded.
"Something else as well as the hideousness of having to go through your grandfather's funeral and a day’s work?"
Kate nodded again and rubbed her face before recoiling rapidly at the overpowering smell of bleach.
Sophie scratched her head. "Are you on in the morning?"
"No. A late," Kate told her.
"Me too. How do you fancy going out and getting plastered?"
Kate looked aghast. "What, now?"
"Yes."
"Oh, no, Soph. I'm shattered," she said.
"Well, maybe we won't get plastered, but have a bit of fun, just for a bit. Yeah? It's better than moping around here feeling miserable. Your granddad would have wanted you to be out having fun, wouldn't he?"
The corner of Kate’s mouth perked up into a soft smile as, despite herself, she remembered how full of fun her granddad had been. She sighed. "Yeah, he would."
"Well what do you say then?"
They met Jenny and Flis, some nursing friends, at The White Horse just before ten; they had a couple of drinks and then headed off down the road to Helix.
By eleven, Kate was feeling wobbly. She had eaten only a sandwich and a packet of crisps before going out and had necked her first couple of drinks rather quickly.
"Feeling any better yet?" Sophie asked when they returned from the dance floor and plonked themselves down on a seat near the bar.
Kate nodded. "Much," she said. "Just give me a surgeon-ectomy and I'll be fine."
"Oh dear. Which one has been rattling your cage this time?" Sophie asked.
"Elliott," she said.
"What, old Jolly?"
"Who?" Kate asked her.
"Jolly. That's what we call him on our ward."
Kate was amused. "Appropriate.” Then she thought she’d better clarify. “Young orthopaedic consultant, right? Quite new?"
"Yeah. Tall, dark and gloomy."
Kate chuckled. "That's the one."
"Why? What did he do to you?"
"He hauled me into Sister's office and tore strips off me, that's what," she said.
"What on earth for?" Sophie asked her.
"I was, and quite rightly, I have to say, objecting to his behaviour, and get this, he ended up threatening to report me!"
"He's going to report you? Why? What did you do?"
"Bastard was ripping into this poor lad on Aintree, acting the big 'I am' and I… kind of accused him of being a bully."
Sophie laughed, obviously surprised at Kate’s nerve. "You go, girl!" she said.
"Oh, I wasn't as good as I would have liked to have been," Kate told her. "He was so… ugh… he was… infuriating. I tried to fight my corner, but I was rubbish and he was so icy and prickly. In the end he had me shaking in my boots."
Sophie put her arm around her friend. "I knew something must have happened when I found you scrubbing the house to death this evening. You don't normally go all manic if you're just a bit miserable. So how did you leave it?"
"With him threatening to report me."
"He’s not going to, though, is he?" she asked.
"I don't know," Kate said. "I don't think so."
"And are you going to report him?"
"I should, shouldn't I? But what's the point? They're hardly going to take my word over his."
"Bloody surgeons."
"Yeah, bloody surgeons," Kate said.
"Speaking of the forbidden things… Do you ever hear from Guy anymore, or Lee?"
Kate shook her head. "No, good riddance to the lot of them, I say.”
"Here, here," Sophie said and clinked glasses. "Not that Guy was anything like Elliott."
"No." Kate laughed at the mere comparison. "At least Guy could be a charmer. Elliott on the other hand…"
"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't chuck him out of bed," Sophie said.
"Ugh. No!" Kate was horrified.
"You’re just mad at him. He can be a real love when he wants to be. He’s meant to be very kind to his patients. They all seem to love him.”
“Ha!” Kate found that very hard to believe.
"But Guy was gorgeous, you've got to admit.”
"Yes,” Kate conceded, “but unfortunately he had a little too much bedside manner. I doubt Elliott even knows what his is for. It probably dropped off years ago… with frostbite."
Sophie gave a wicked grin. “I dare you to find out.”
"I'd rather snog Derek," Kate said.
"Not Dirty-Derek from Cardiology? The human octopus? Ugh!" Sophie shivered and they both burst out laughing.
Flis and Jenny joined them from the dance floor, slumping down in the seats close by.
"You look better," said Flis, brushing her blonde curls away from her face. "They're not a lot of fun, are they, funerals?"
"No. I'm not sure anyone has ever described funerals as 'fun', Flis," Sophie said. "But it's not that. The girl's got surgeon-itis again."
"Oh, lord. Which one now?" Jenny said, perking up.
"Elliott," Sophie said.
"Elliott?"
"Not like that," Kate added quickly. "We had a run in today."
"Which one's Elliott?" Flis asked.
“Orthopaedics. Took over from Mr Grant.”
“Arrogant, self-righteous, pompous pillock,” Kate muttered under her breath.
The other three looked at each other.
“How much has she had to drink?” Jenny asked.
“Not enough, obviously,” said Sophie with a smile and she lifted Kate’s hand with her glass in back up to her lips.
Kate swallowed back another gulp and shook herself. “Okay, I’m better now,” she said. “Hey, have any of you seen the new anaesthetics registrar yet? The one everyone’s raving about.”
“I have,” said Jenny, excitedly. “He’s lush.”
“Lush? How old are you?” Sophie asked.
“Well, if you don’t want to hear about him.”
“Ignore her,” said Flis, straining to hear what was being said. “I do.”
Jenny beamed. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he? He’s