The Doctor
by Laura Solomon
and Kerryn Young
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It took a lot of time and
effort to keep the mohawk looking ship-shape. I
used special hair products on it and had already
re-spray painted it pink twice as the colour had
started to dim and fade. I always liked to take
pride in my appearance.
A week after Philip had
died my phone rang. It was the doctor, wanting to
know what I was doing on Saturday night.
“I’ve got a
funeral to attend”, I said.
“What are you doing
afterwards?”
“I’ve got the
after party to go to”, I said. “Lots of
free booze.”
“Are you trying to
tempt me?”
“Come along if you
like. More the merrier. Hopefully I’ll have
something to celebrate ‘cause they will have
read the will.”
Philip’s parents
organized the funeral. They saw me eyeing up the
red sports car and subtly let me know that it was
going up for sale, proceeds heading towards their
pocket. I wore a bright red skin tight strapless
dress to the funeral – it was Philip’s
favourite dress on me. His parents gave me
sideways looks but I didn’t mind. It was an
open coffin, the dude on the microphone said a
few words and then asked if anybody wanted to
come and put a flower on the body. A great long
queue of women, I counted 25, lined up to place
their flowers. All the women looked about my age.
The second to last woman spent forever gazing
into the coffin, her shoulders heaving with sobs.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the crowd.
After five minutes of sobbing, she attempted to
throw herself into the coffin with Philip and had
to be detained and escorted off by security. I
was shocked; it was as if she was his
current girlfriend. Maybe she was – it
wouldn’t have surprised me if Philip was
cheating on me all along.
The will was read out. He
everything except the car to Stella and Sheryl
– blonde twins who looked like they’d
stepped out of a Sweet Valley High book. The car
he left to me. I saw his parents spit tacks.
Somebody threw a chocolate éclair at Stella when
the will was announced and it hit her in the side
of the head. A minor brawl broke out. I couldn’t
believe that Philip had left me nothing in the
will, so I walked off; tears were welling in my
eyes.
I ran bang smack into
Trevor the doctor. A lit cigarette dangled
between his fingers.
“Hey babe” he
said. “Where you going in such a hurry?”
“A fight broke out”,
I said.
He glanced over at the
brawl.
“Wow. Chaos reigns.
You wanna drink?”
I nodded. I needed
something to help me get through. We walked the
short distance to where the after party was being
held – in the same building as the funeral
– just down the corridor and to the right.
“Gin please”, I
said.
He nodded briskly then
headed for the bar, puffing furiously on his
cigarette as if his life depended on it.
We sat down together in one
of the booths and Trevor lit one cigarette from
the end of another. What class!, I thought.
I could tell he was a man of distinction and
style. He was drinking a funny coloured liqueur.
I asked him what it was.
“Absinth”, he
answered.
“Have you had a good
week?” I asked.
“Not really. Lost two
patients.”
He didn’t elaborate so
I didn’t ask for details.
I sipped my gin, eyeing up
Trevor as I did so and I saw him trying to look
down the front of my dress. I was flattered by
the attention. We drank on, into the evening,
until the faces of the other funeral attendees
began to blur. Trevor took my hand. I didn’t
resist. I saw Philip’s parents giving me
looks of disapproval and felt a slight twinge of
guilt, but the alcohol dulled it. Anyway, he hadn’t
left me anything in the will and he was dead now,
so he wouldn’t have a clue about what was
going on. Trevor invited me back to his house. He
chainsmoked all the way through the intercourse,
dropping hot ash on me. I was very disappointed
in this and told him he had a nicotine addiction
problem and should try patches or the gum.
“Hey so what else is
news”, he said glibly, lighting another fag.
In the morning he was quite
the gentleman and made me coffee and eggs
benedict. I was watching my figure so I only had
half the breakfast and left the other half
congealing on the plate. Trevor was paged and had
to go to work hungover. It was a heart attack he
was meant to be tending to, but he took his sweet
time, tending to me first and making sure I was
okay and could get home safely. He asked me to
meet him for lunch the next day and I agreed.
I showed up at the hospital
where Trevor worked wearing a sparkly gold top
with thin spaghetti straps and my best leather
mini, teamed with pink heels to match my mohawk.
As I entered the hospital
café where we had arranged to meet I scanned the
room looking expectantly for Trevor. I couldn’t
believe I was dating a doctor my luck was
changing, I’d be set for life.
I didn’t see him
straight away, so I sat down at the nearest two
seater table. Just as I sat down I heard vacuous
giggles from the corner. I looked over to see
Trevor sitting with a group of nurses- there must
have been about four or five all gazing at Trevor
attentively, giggling at his every word. I felt a
wave of jealousy. Without thinking I marched over.
“Excuse me”’
I screeched, “When does our lunch date start?”
The doctor turned to face
me.
“Sorry” he said.
“I didn’t see you sitting over there. I
was just entertaining these lovely ladies.”
“Yes, looks like it”,
I snapped.
“Would you like to
join us.”
“No I want to have
lunch with you alone.”
“Oh, getting
possessive are we? What is it – second date?”
teased one of the nurses.
I shot the nurse a cold
look, turned on my pink heels and marched back to
the table, hoping that Trevor would follow.
He stayed talking with the
nurses for a further five minutes and I was just
about to leave when he came sauntering over.
“So what do you fancy
for lunch then?”
“Are you sure you can
spare me the time”, I replied coldly. “Don’t
bust your boiler.”
“Oh come on sweetheart
they’re just my work colleagues. We were
just having a team meeting.” He paused.
“Did you know you’re really beautiful
when you’re angry.”
“Don’t try that
old line on me. I know your type. Man about town.
Ladies man. Well, I’m too jaded for you to
be breaking my heart. I’ve been around the
town too you know.”
“Have you now. I never
would have picked it. How about we skip lunch and
I’ll show you the linen room?”
“The linen room! Is
that where they do it in hospitals. I always did
wonder.”
“No it’s just
that I think I left my belt in there.”
“Oh okay then.” I
said quickly. “I can help you find it.”
We got up and I followed
him dutifully down the corridor, we passed a
group of what appeared to be student nurses, they
giggled when they saw Trevor.
“Hi Doctor Trevor”
they chorused in flirty unison.
We arrived at the Linen
room, Trevor locked the door and looked at me
with a seducing glance.
“Hey I thought we were
just here to find your belt”, I said
Trevor suddenly got a
strange look on his face and went as white as the
sheets he was standing next to. Before I knew it
he dropped to the floor, twitched a little and
stopped moving.
“Trevor! I exclaimed
“What are you doing, this isn’t funny
you are scaring me”.
He didn’t answer - I
ran out to the corridor and pushed the emergency
call button. That’s the last thing I
remembered as I dropped to the floor myself in a
faint.
When I came to I was lying
in a hospital bed- a nurse was standing near me,
“Trevor?” I said.
She turned and looked at me,
“Sorry love, Doctor Trevor had an aneurysm”
then added sarcastically “When you two were
counting the linen, he died”.
My vision narrowed, my last
thoughts were, not again! then I lost
consciousness for the second time.
My parents came and took me
home. I didn’t say a word; I sat on my couch
for the next week staring at the wall. I vaguely
remember my mother coming in and out of my flat
trying to get me to drink soup. I couldn’t
eat, I was in shock - three boyfriends dead in a
year, I was cursed; the black widow.
It turns out that Trevor’s
aneurysm was most likely caused by his 50 a day
smoking habit. So I found myself the following
Tuesday attending yet another funeral. When they
read Trevor’s will I was surprised and
delighted to discover that he had left me fifty
grand and a property in the Cotswolds. Thanks
for thinking of me Trev, I silently toasted
as I downed my third margarita at the after party.
I caught a cab home, ascended the stairs and
passed out alone in my queen sized bed.
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