him into contact with Olivia. He couldn’t risk asking for Newman ward because he knew Kamal would immediately become suspicious. Having to be so passive was a torture, and if someone else got allocated Newman ward he had to endure eight hours of mind-numbing boredom in the rest of the hospital. He stood like a condemned man waiting to see what Kamal would dole out.
The heat was making everyone tetchy and irritable.
‘Yassir, you do the offices upstairs,’ barked Kamal, ‘and Darren, you do Newman ward. And today I’m checking every inch of what you clean.’ He wiped a hand across his sweating brow.
Darren tried very hard to look disappointed.
He cleaned the corridors in double-quick time, keen to get to the rec room. A line of women filed past at one point and he feared he would miss her, but when the door was opened for him he could see Olivia standing by the window, feet apart, her baggy elasticated trousers see-through in the sun. The silhouette of her legs and bum was clearly visible. She turned and he could see the swell of her breasts before the effect was lost as a cloud passed over the sun outside.
Darren mopped across the main thoroughfare of the room towards the windows and towards her, passing Linda, parked nearby. She smiled vaguely at him as he mopped under her wheels. Olivia watched him the whole time, unmoving. He ran the mop across the dust on the floor-level runners that opened the plate glass door, should anyone have a key, to the courtyard garden beyond.
‘Walls make people talk. I’ve learned things about you.’
He looked up at her. Olivia’s eyes seemed to glow with flecks of yellow, reflected from the willow tree in the courtyard. He found he couldn’t look away.
He blushed with embarrassment, pulled a cloth from his pocket and began to wipe the window. ‘Oh yeah? Like what?’
‘That you’re an artist, Biological. With a degree and everything.’ She said it quietly, so softly that he had to take a step nearer to hear her. ‘Intelligent. So my question is, why is a bright boy like you cleaning floors in a shithole like this?’
Darren felt his stomach moving unpleasantly. If she had found out that already, then she probably knew he had a dead sister and that he was from Streatham. He began to panic. He had been unbelievably naïve and stupid, to not even consider that casual conversation in the upper offices or from Kamal could get back to her. He met her eye. He had not thought this through, this half-cocked plan to insinuate himself into the world of his sister’s killer; he had never considered that she might discover who he was all by herself – and take his power away from him in one moment.
Her face had turned blank and hard, the soft grins and melodious inflections gone. Her moods were like quicksilver, benign one moment and threatening the next. He had no idea what she knew about him, how much Carly might have told her about her life and her family, how long they had spent together. I’m trying, Carly, he said to himself, I’m trying so hard to get back to you.
‘I’d keep mopping if I were you, they might notice you staring otherwise.’
Darren tried to recover his composure. ‘You think this job is too good for a graduate?’
‘Oh yes, Biological, you’re too good to be true.’
He took a step away, like she was a cobra about to attack, not liking the implications of what she was saying.
‘And then there’s your hair. I imagine it doesn’t get like that without a lot of sun, sea and salt. You’re a surfer or a swimmer aren’t you?’
The gold flecks were back in her eyes now, a come-hither smile on her face.
Darren needed desperately to take control of this conversation, but he simply didn’t know what to say, and stared at her like an imbecile instead.
She sensed his discomfort. ‘What would you bring me in here, if you could?’
‘A noose.’ It was out of his mouth before he had time to consider the consequences and felt for two long
The heat was making everyone tetchy and irritable.
‘Yassir, you do the offices upstairs,’ barked Kamal, ‘and Darren, you do Newman ward. And today I’m checking every inch of what you clean.’ He wiped a hand across his sweating brow.
Darren tried very hard to look disappointed.
He cleaned the corridors in double-quick time, keen to get to the rec room. A line of women filed past at one point and he feared he would miss her, but when the door was opened for him he could see Olivia standing by the window, feet apart, her baggy elasticated trousers see-through in the sun. The silhouette of her legs and bum was clearly visible. She turned and he could see the swell of her breasts before the effect was lost as a cloud passed over the sun outside.
Darren mopped across the main thoroughfare of the room towards the windows and towards her, passing Linda, parked nearby. She smiled vaguely at him as he mopped under her wheels. Olivia watched him the whole time, unmoving. He ran the mop across the dust on the floor-level runners that opened the plate glass door, should anyone have a key, to the courtyard garden beyond.
‘Walls make people talk. I’ve learned things about you.’
He looked up at her. Olivia’s eyes seemed to glow with flecks of yellow, reflected from the willow tree in the courtyard. He found he couldn’t look away.
He blushed with embarrassment, pulled a cloth from his pocket and began to wipe the window. ‘Oh yeah? Like what?’
‘That you’re an artist, Biological. With a degree and everything.’ She said it quietly, so softly that he had to take a step nearer to hear her. ‘Intelligent. So my question is, why is a bright boy like you cleaning floors in a shithole like this?’
Darren felt his stomach moving unpleasantly. If she had found out that already, then she probably knew he had a dead sister and that he was from Streatham. He began to panic. He had been unbelievably naïve and stupid, to not even consider that casual conversation in the upper offices or from Kamal could get back to her. He met her eye. He had not thought this through, this half-cocked plan to insinuate himself into the world of his sister’s killer; he had never considered that she might discover who he was all by herself – and take his power away from him in one moment.
Her face had turned blank and hard, the soft grins and melodious inflections gone. Her moods were like quicksilver, benign one moment and threatening the next. He had no idea what she knew about him, how much Carly might have told her about her life and her family, how long they had spent together. I’m trying, Carly, he said to himself, I’m trying so hard to get back to you.
‘I’d keep mopping if I were you, they might notice you staring otherwise.’
Darren tried to recover his composure. ‘You think this job is too good for a graduate?’
‘Oh yes, Biological, you’re too good to be true.’
He took a step away, like she was a cobra about to attack, not liking the implications of what she was saying.
‘And then there’s your hair. I imagine it doesn’t get like that without a lot of sun, sea and salt. You’re a surfer or a swimmer aren’t you?’
The gold flecks were back in her eyes now, a come-hither smile on her face.
Darren needed desperately to take control of this conversation, but he simply didn’t know what to say, and stared at her like an imbecile instead.
She sensed his discomfort. ‘What would you bring me in here, if you could?’
‘A noose.’ It was out of his mouth before he had time to consider the consequences and felt for two long
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