She walked over to the sinks, taking off her scrubs as she went. She placed her hands on the edge of the sink and lent forward, lowering her head and taking some deep breaths. She had to compose herself, she knew what was coming next; she would have to tell the mother. How Jill felt would be nothing compared to the mother's anguish. And she wouldn't help the situation if she, the doctor, couldn't pull herself together.
She smacked her hand against the cold steel of the sink in frustration. The sharp pain she caused seemed to bring her to her senses.
Straightening up, she brought a hand to her face, brushing away a few tears. Taking another deep breath, she proceeded towards the tiny waiting room for relatives.
She would normally have sought out Gordon after something like this, found comfort in his arms and in his words. But now, she couldn't. She couldn't just walk out of a conversation the day before then return to him when she actually needed him to talk to her.
It was out of the question.
But she wanted to.
'I'm sorry'; two simple words. Adequate most of the time; 'I'm sorry I'm late': 'I broke it, I'm sorry'; 'I'm sorry we argued'.
But 'we were unable to save your daughter, I'm so sorry'? In no way is that adequate. But that's exactly what Jill said to Julie's mother. What else could she say?
As soon as the words were out her mouth, she could only watch helplessly as the woman broke. Her face crumpled and she let out a heartbreaking scream. Jill reached out a hand in a vain effort to provide some ineffectual comfort. Julie's mother suddenly sagged, the scream seemingly releasing all her energy, and she collapsed into Sister Brigid's waiting arms. Jill's hand hovered for a second, before dropping to her side.
"Shhhh, Sheila. There there." Sister Brigid's comforting, soothing tones filled the room, though they did nothing to help the heartbroken woman she held. They couldn't possibly help someone who'd been hit with so much grief.
Jill sank into the seat beside them. Her eyes rose to meet Sister Brigid, and a look of sorrow passed between them, before her attention was turned to Sheila who had raised her head to her, her face already stained with fast falling tears.
"Was she in pain?"
The sorrowful voice cut through the Jill's heart, the pain in her eyes shot through her. She swallowed hard to prevent her emotions overcoming her before responding quietly. "No, I'm certain she didn't."
Sheila nodded briefly before sinking back into Sister Brigid's arms.
With a futile murmur of condolence, Dr Weatherill left Sheila with Sister Brigid and exited the room.
Dr Weatherill walked down the corridor, head held high, ponytail swinging, heels clicking with precision.
Dr Weatherill pushed open the familiar door bearing her gleaming name plaque.
Jill closed the door, collapsed against it and sobbed.
