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too busy tonight. She couldn’t see Barbara as she looked around. Whilst she was changing, Anne thought back over her friendship with her.
    They’d met when Anne was doing her six months training at Tadmore – it seemed such a long time ago. Barbara had been working at the hospital as a psychiatric nurse for a few years and had helped Anne through some of her paces. Though a few years older and little intense, Anne found her a good friend. She was certainly a great nurse. Barbara had the excellent qualities essential to care for mentally ill people and showed a deep understanding of her patients’ needs. She had never married, as she believed that her work was too important.
    This was something that Anne certainly understood.
    Barbara kept her private life to herself, and though Anne was sure she’d had affairs, she’d never been introduced. Anne respected her privacy.
    Barbara still hadn’t arrived by the time Anne had changed, so she walked through to the fitness room. She hoped to have a swim later.
    Beginning with the running machine, Anne started at a slow pace, quickening as she warmed up. She had switched to the rowing machine when Barbara arrived, full of apologies.
    Anne stopped, and between breaths asked her if she’d like a swim.
    They both entered the changing room and put on their swimsuits.
    After a few laps, they hung onto the deep-end ledge and talked.
    “Sorry I was late, Anne. One of my patients had a bad turn; I couldn’t leave until he was comfortable.”
    She looked so serious and apologetic.
    “Don’t worry. You’re here now – you’ll just have to work twice as hard to catch up!” she laughed. “Will you stop looking like that – it’s not the end of the world that you’re late. It’s usually me anyway, it makes a change.”
    Anne laughed again, trying to lighten Barbara’s mood.
    Barbara half-smiled at Anne, shaking her head.
    “Fine. But you know I hate to be late. I try to organise everything just so – then…”
    “Things happen. But you have to allow for that – you know how I’m nearly always late for everything. Look at the Fundraiser – more than an hour! I couldn’t believe it. But there it is – somebody needed me.”
    Anne suddenly remembered who it was that had made her so late.
    “Somebody always needs you – that’s why you’re so overworked! What’s the matter?” asked Barbara, noticing her friend’s sudden pale face.
    “I’ve just remembered. The reason why I was so late that evening and now they’re dead!”
    Unexpectedly, Anne began to cry. The shock of the day had suddenly pushed its way through. She sank down into the water to wash away the tears, nobody could really tell, her face was wet anyway.
    “Tell me,” Barbara said, straight to the point as always.
    Anne told her about Peter Armstrong and his mother. She listened with that intense concentration she always had. It felt like you were the most important person in the world when Barbara listened – a great asset in her line of work.
    “You don’t think it’s your fault, do you?” she reasoned; at once getting to the heart of the matter.
    “I suppose I do in a way. If only I’d insisted on her being admitted that night, she’d still be alive.”
    “Don’t be an idiot, Anne, how could you have known? Did you kill her? No, of course you didn’t. There is one only person to blame for her death, and that’s the killer!” Barbara’s no nonsense attitude made Anne see sense.
    “No, of course, you’re right. It’s just the shock. Come on, let’s swim. I’ll race you.”
    Barbara followed Anne in her race to the other end of the pool – Barbara won as she always did. They were out of breath and laughing when they had both stopped.
    “You always win,” said Anne, exhilarated by the exercise.
    “That’s because I come here more often,” Barbara replied, smiling.
    After a few more laps, both women left the pool, showered and changed then went over to the coffee bar.
    Anne