As snow falls outside the window, the feisty red head continues to try and concentrate. She has been staring blankly at a CT scan of a patient for over 10 minutes and nothing. She had no possible solution. Sighing, she slams the scan down onto the desk, leaning back in her chair, pushing her long auburn locks out of her face. Resting her head in her hands she tries to clear her head. Of her and Johnny. Of her and Joseph. Of her and Shaun. Of everything. Because forgetting is the only way. The only way of escape. A sharp knock on her office door made her snap out of her thoughts and back concentrating on her work.
"Come in." She says sharply, trying to sound as if normal. Mo Effanga walks in, a angry edge badly-hidden in her attitude.
"Any diagnoses on bed 7?" She asks coldly, as if she had hurt her best friend. Wrong metaphor. Because that's exactly what she had done, "Jac? Diagnoses for ?"
"Almost there." She said, inferring for Mo to leave. But she stayed rooted to the spot, "Something wrong Morine?" She asked in her famous Ice-Queen voice, accompanied by her famous Ice-Queen stare.
"Yes actually. I told you not to hurt Johnny. But you just can't help yourself. You think your god high-almighty above all the rest of us. But here's some news Jac- No one likes you. You will grow old and alone. And frankly Johnny deserves better than you."
Jac couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Get out. Go on. Get out now. You may think that you scare me, but trust me, I've known spiders scarier than you. Now get out." For a second, Mo stood rooted to the spot, and then stormed out slamming the door behind her. Jac curled up in her chair, tears threatening to appear. What if Mo was right? What if no one would ever love her? She snapped out of it by the sound of her phone vibrating on the glass desk. She picked it up and looked down at the name on the screen. Sasha. She accepted the call and put the phone to her ear.
"What do you want?" She asked coldly.
"I heard." He said.
"Sasha, I may be brilliant, but I'm not a mind reader. For someone to know what your thinking, you must tell them first. That's how talking works." She used sarcasm to avoid answering him. She knew what he meant. She just couldn't bring herself to face up to what she has done.
"Jac. Don't avoid the question. You know what I mean. You okay?" He asks, knowing her as if he could read her mind.
"Not really." She replies, taking down her strong barrier to talk to the older consultant.
"Wanna meet for coffee in 5. I get a break then." He offers.
"I dunno. The wards pretty busy." She lies easily, as its a second nature to her.
"How come your on the phone to me then, huh?" He had her.
Fine. See you in 5." She replies shortly, hanging up. She grabs her Holby hoody and slips it on over her blue scrub top and picks up her phone and slips it inside the hoody pocket and walks out her office. As she passes the nursing station and walks down the corridor, everyone stares. Apart from Johnny. Apart from him. The one person who she wouldn't mind staring. As she gets to the lift, she presses the down button, praying it would come soon. When it gets her, she suddenly see's a patient lying on a trolley, being pushed by Maliks son and Chantell Lane. She was skinny, pale and had blonde hair surrounding her on the pillow. Johnny and Mo come rushing over to help. She takes the patient notes that Chantell hands to her and reads it out loud.
"Young girl, estimated between 13-16, found in a back alley, suspected rape and assault victim, major injuries in the head and chest. Had to be revived twice since being found. Once when she was found and the second in the ambulance on the way here." She reads aloud to the crew helping so everyone knew what they were dealing with.
"Johnny what's wrong?!" Mo yells at him. We all turn to face him. He's pale as a sheet and shaking like there was no tomorrow. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Its her." He says, stuttering as he said it.
"Call Mr. Levy, Mr. Spence, Mr. Hansen, Mr. Hope, Sister. Williams, Miss. Campbell, Mr. Malick and Mr. Gryffin. We may need there experties on this. Call a meeting in the board room in 15 minutes. Mo, Ollie, Chantell, Tara and Johnny, you ought to be there to." She said, ordering someone to go complete her order. Chantell obliged, "Johnny, for god sake what is it?!' She snapped at it.
"It... It's her. Its Brooklyn." He stutters.
"Brooklyn?" Mo questions, "It can't be here."
"Who's Brooklyn?" I ask, confused.
"It it." Johnny says.
"It can't be. She's still in the care home." Ollie pitches in.
"Who's Brooklyn?" I ask, louder this time.
"It looks just like her." Johnny replies.
"It could just be someone who looks like her?" Tara suggests.
"Who the bloody hells Brooklyn?!" I yell. And for the first time in weeks, Johnny looks at me. Actually looks at me.
"My little sister." He says, and tears fill his eyes as he looks down to the fragile teen on the trolley.