‘Turning it off isn’t going to make the flooding go away,’ was all she said.
‘I know, I know. But I’ve got to get these files updated and…’
Mary frowned. This wasn’t like Ayesha. She didn’t like being criticized for anything and usually Mary chose the most diplomatic phrases if she wanted her to turn the radio down. She glanced over: Ayesha was staring at a long list of names on her screen. For a few minutes, the sound of keyboards clicking filled the office. Then Mary heard steps coming along the corridor and two brief knocks on their door. What now?
Judy, the ward sister, let herself in before either of them had replied.
‘Have you heard?’ she said.
‘Heard what?’ asked Mary.
‘About Mrs K?’
Mary nodded. So it wasn’t anything sensational. ‘Yes, I know. She died during the power-cut.’
Judy’s eyes gleamed. ‘No, there’s more.’
‘What?’
‘There were marks round her face and neck. She didn’t die naturally. She was suffocated.’
Mary frowned. ‘What? You mean someone—someone killed her?’
‘Yes,’ said Judy. ‘At least, that’s how it looks. It’s been logged.’
‘But that makes no sense. She had—what?—just a couple more days left. Who’d want to kill someone who was about to die?’
‘I know. It’s mad. I can’t understand it. We’re waiting for Dr Peterson. Once he’s arrived, he’ll go through the documentation. And he wants you there.’
‘Me?’
‘Well, you arranged her care package, didn’t you? You know her as well as any of us.’
Judy left, beaming with the satisfaction of delivering bad news.
‘Hmmm…’ said Ayesha.
‘What?’ asked Mary.
‘With this flooding—will Dr Peterson be able to get here?’
Mary knew Dr Peterson’s office well. While she and Ayesha shared the proverbial broom cupboard, Dr Peterson’s office was vast. There was a fine Persian rug on the floor, framed certificates on the walls, a long row of bookshelves lined with impressive-looking medical tomes, two windows with views of the woods, a polished wooden desk and chairs for visitors. Whenever Ayesha visited, she came back fuming. You could get six of us in that room! she’d say. Ten! Mary had decided long ago that you needed to choose your battles. There was no point in getting angry for the sake of it.
Judy was already there. She nodded at Mary and smiled, almost as if they were guests at a party. Dr Peterson was at his desk, leafing his way through a thick pile of documents held in a file. He looked up over his half-moon glasses as Mary came in and gestured with his hand to a chair.