TALES OF HOLBY
(Dull title, I know, but it's taken from my favourite opera, Tales Of Hoffman which I've always wanted to write something about. Three troubled people from Holby General Hospital visit the strange new Olympia nightclub. In its illuminated gardens they each confide in a compassionate stranger who maybe has past suffering of his own to bear.)
Hardly anybody was downstairs in the Olympia nightclub; everybody was taking advantage of the warmth of the first real days of summer as they sat drinking in the garden, which had coloured lights and laser displays to enhance the entertainment which probably accounted for the slightly expensive drinks.
"Look at that for an effect" Rita told her boyfriend Iain enthusiastically, "That guy sitting over there's by a mirror but there's no reflection. How cool is that?"
"Mmm" Iain was only half-listening. He was planning to tell Rita that this relationship of theirs was a mistake and that he still wanted to be friends. He suddenly began to chuckle at a ragged rendition of a song by some of the junior doctors:
"He went out in a dirty anorak, a dirty anorak,
He nicked pills for the pain in his old back, the pain in his old back…"
Iain listened a little harder but could only catch the final two lines:
"Smack, whack, smack whaaaack, that was, that was, Big Mac."
Rita thumped him.
"There'll be hell to pay if Big Mac overhears that lot. He's been on the straight and narrow ever since he confessed about the tablets and Connie let him keep his job."
Zoe wondered if she had come to the right place. The 'friend of a friend' had told her that Ben Chiltern might be able to help her, but he could be hard to track down. Following her friend's description, she looked round and suddenly saw the young man next to the blank mirror effect. She walked slowly towards him and asked:
"Mind if I sit here?"
The young man was handsome in his way, though he was slim to the point of looking fragile, and his skin was almost translucently pale. He had a head of dark curls, and large blue/grey eyes that seemed to reflect kindness.
If this was Ben, he cut right to the chase:
"You need advice?"
Zoe nodded.
"I… I'm not sure if you'll believe me."
"I wouldn't still be sitting here if I didn't think you were genuine. Your eyes hold sorrow and you feel you can't share that sorrow with many, if anybody at all. Is that right?"
Zoe nodded. Ben smiled encouragingly – his smile was warm and kind – and made her blurt out the core of her problem without sidestepping it.
"I may have given my soul away."
Ben didn't laugh or tell her not to come out with such crap, or to stop wasting his time. He took one look at the mirror, where neither his nor Zoe's reflection could be seen, and said gently:
"Tell me."
And Zoe began her tale.
