Jill entered reception, not really noticing her surroundings and the people around her, her mind whirring over the most recent letter. It was longer, more specific and more frightening than the first letter. It contained a string of commands, including 'Don't tell anyone.' and 'Leave one hundred pounds beneath the Clock Tower at midnight.' It finished with a threat of 'If you break any of these rules, someone you love will suffer.' The thought made her vow never to breathe a word of it, although she knew it was no guarantee that even if she followed the letter, no one would get hurt.

A while after reading it, she had realised that there was no stamp, meaning it had been hand delivered, and so a person who was involved with the letters knew where she lived and had visited her home.

The letter in question was still clutched firmly in her hand as she stood in reception, gazing with a vacant expression at Lizzie, who was trying to shove some patient files into her hands.

"Doctor Weatherill, here are your files. Doctor Weatherill!"

Barely knowing what she was doing, she took the files and wandered in the vague direction of her office, then felt someone take hold of her elbow and direct her into a different room.

"Jill, are you okay?"

The familiar and somewhat calming voice of Gordon gradually brought her mind back to the present.

"Come on, sit down."

She put up no resistance as he guided her into a chair, his hands gentle and his voice concerned. She refused to speak to him however, the hurt still fresh and raw.

"Jill, what's wrong? Talk to me Jill."

Sharply, she whipped her head up, tears brimming in her eyes, as she began to speak bitterly. "If you don't love me Gordon, just say so, stop pretending to act concerned."

"You think I don't love you?" His voice, laced with notes regret, hurt and shame travelled straight to her heart.

"Well I think that was pretty apparent from your lack of a response yesterday, don't you think." She angrily brushed away a tear that had started to track down her check.

"Jill..." He paused and she warily watched as he crouched down in front of her. "Sweetheart, I do love you, more than you can imagine."

Not letting herself believe him completely, she questioned in him. "Then why didn't you tell me that yesterday?"

"It didn't quite sink in that you feel the same way as me, and then Lizzie came so…" He reached out and took the hand not clutching the letter, and then leant towards her and touched his lips gently to hers. It was brief but it was tender and filled with love, and it was all she needed to open the floodgates. She slid off the chair and onto the floor next to him, allowing him to cradle her tightly as she let her emotions out. He couldn't possibly know the main reason for her upset, just as she couldn't possibly tell him.


"Doctor Weatherill!"

Jill turned as the haughty tones of Mrs Hander, the receptionist reached her ears.

"Mr Racheed wants to speak to you in his office." A smirk was evident on her lips as her patronising tone made Jill's blood boil.

"Thank you Mrs Hander." Jill said, perhaps a little too sarcastically, she didn't really care though; she had a feeling she was already in trouble.

She proceeded towards the administrator's office, abandoning her hope of leaving the hospital before nine o'clock. She knocked on the door and after receiving a reply, entered.

"Doctor Weatherill, take a seat." His eyes were like cold marbles and his face stony. "I've had a complaint, from a Mrs Harrison. She accused you of being rude. Mrs Hander backs up her story." He paused, proceeded to temple his hands beneath his chin, and looked at her intently for a few moments. "There have been many incidents, albeit little ones, that have come to my attention. At the moment I am wondering whether you're suited to the job here."

She was speechless for a few moments, and then narrowed her eyes. "Why on Earth did you give me the job in the first place, eh?" This, she almost shouted, and then immediately regretted it.

The suave, statuesque man in front of her didn't respond, he just raised his eyebrows at her.

Her eyes slipped from his to stare at her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

There was a slight pause before he spoke again. "You're new here so I'll make an exception this once for not knowing." Jill opened her mouth to thank him, but he continued. "Mrs Harrison is a very influential person here; she's on the hospital board, so I will not have you speaking to her like that again. Do you understand me?"

A dozen lashing responses brimming on her tongue, she just nodded mutely.

"Dismissed."

She stood up and couldn't leave the room fast enough; she was so angry. It seemed to her that regardless of what Mrs Harrison did, she would always get away with it. Mr Racheed was obviously terrified of the woman; he was like a lap dog to her.

She marched out the hospital and into the car park, ignoring Mrs Hander's condescending stare, and the tutting accompanied with the comment of 'Ladies shouldn't run' from a passer-by, as she hurried towards her car. Once inside, the revved up the engine and started towards her flat, slightly out of breath. The familiar interior of her mini comforted her slightly, though she was still furious. Mr Middleditch would never have spoken to her in that way, without asking for her version of events. He would have done his best to stick up for his staff as well, something which Mr Racheed was incapable of doing.

She sighed longingly.