‘God, sorry. Thought you said please.’ A giggle. ‘Come in.’ The tone sounded and Rachel pushed through the door.
It was a big ward, with the nurses’ station halfway down. As she drew closer Rachel could hear someone calling, ‘Nurse, nurse!’
There was an air of abandonment to the place. Rachel hoped she’d die at home, or outside, anywhere but somewhere like this. She hated hospitals, the smells and the mess.
The nurses’ station was deserted. Shirelle’s name was written up on the board behind but, unlike the others, there was no bed number assigned to it.
Exasperated, Rachel poked her head into the nearest bay. Saw only sick people, dozing, drips in their arms. None of them Shirelle.
She walked further down the corridor. The tremulous voice kept on calling, ‘Nurse? Nurse?’ and someone struggled with a hacking cough. Rachel heard a peal of laughter. In an anteroom, two nurses, one tiny, the other like a beanpole, were heaping laundry into bags. ‘Shirelle Young,’ Rachel said, flashing her ID to stop any argument. ‘Admitted last night.’
‘Should be on the board,’ the titchy one said.
‘No,’ Rachel said, ‘not her bed number.’
There was a pause. Titch frowned, the other one shrugged.
‘I could go round every bed,’ Rachel said sharply, ‘if you’ve lost her.’
That riled the smaller nurse, who got all huffy and said, ‘Take a seat, we’ll check for you.’
The seats were a little further along, tucked in an alcove out of sight. Rachel sat, impatient, glanced at the notice banning mobile phones and checked hers. No messages. No one ever paid any attention to the signs. She wondered why they still bothered.
‘Nurse! Nurse! I need the commode!’
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
As far as Rachel could tell, there were only those two nurses, and whoever it was had buzzed her in, covering the ward. That couldn’t be right, could it?
Then the lanky one was back. ‘She’s gone,’ she said. She was trying to look relaxed about it but Rachel could see worry in her eyes.
‘Discharged?’ Rachel said.
‘Not officially. I think she’s just left.’
Rachel’s pulse jumped. ‘Where was the bed?’
‘Near the door.’ The nurse pointed to the entrance to the ward.
‘When was she last seen?’ Rachel said.
‘She got her meds ten minutes ago.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. Call security. She’s a potential witness as well as a victim, she could be at risk. She mustn’t leave the hospital. You can describe her?’
‘Yes, sure,’ the nurse said defensively.
‘Then do it.’
The woman blinked and Rachel ran. She took the stairs, judging it would be quicker than the lift. The stairwell was empty apart from a bloke in scrubs running up. At the bottom Rachel looked about. The place wasn’t too busy out of visiting hours but there were still patients heading into consultations and clinics and others being moved between departments by porters.