That bastard.
She felt so furious, so nauseous, that she wanted to pound someone until they died, preferably him. To make him suffer as Precious was suffering now.
‘Are you a relative?’ asked a female orderly, coming in and sitting beside Layla, a clipboard and form at the ready.
‘No. A friend.’
Some friend. It’s my fault this happened to her.
‘And her name is…?’ The orderly clicked her pen, held it at the ready.
‘Precious. She’s called Precious. She works at the club, the Shalimar. I don’t know her real name. The girls don’t use their real names. If you phone there, ask for Ellie, she’ll fill you in on the details.’
‘You got the number?’
Layla gave it to her. She was useless, hopeless, but the one thing she could do without any trouble at all was remember numbers. ‘Is she going to be OK?’
‘The doctors are with her now,’ said the woman. She stood up, and left the room.
Layla sat there, waiting. A constant procession of misery passed by in front of her: a mother clutching a child’s teddy and weeping into her husband’s shoulder, an elderly couple fretting over an ancient mother who’d been rushed in with chest pains, a solitary girl who had the gaunt look of a druggie, hunched in her seat, bloodstains on her grubby T-shirt, sobbing quietly.
‘Layla? Honey?’
She looked up. Annie was there, with Max.
Layla stood up and practically fell into her mother’s arms. Annie clutched at her, held her steady.
‘It’s Precious,’ she said, unable to hold back the bitter tears of grief and remorse.
‘Shh,’ said Annie, rocking her.
‘It’s my fault,’ Layla sobbed. ‘You told me. You told me not to get involved with the girls, you said that, and I thought you meant I was too good for them or something. But you didn’t. I can see it now. You didn’t mean that at all.’
‘It’s going to be all right,’ said Max, rubbing her back.
‘I made friends with her,’ said Layla shakily. ‘And now she’s in bits.’
‘Someone must have seen you together,’ said Max.
‘We were together a lot,’ said Layla. ‘Anyone could have seen us. Oh shit, I’ve been so stupid.’
‘You shouldn’t have come here on your own,’ said Annie.
‘There was a mix-up over whose shift it was,’ said Max grimly. Someone was going to get their arse kicked over that.
‘I just didn’t have time to think about it,’ said Layla.
Alberto appeared in the doorway.
Layla took a halting breath, tried to stop the flood of tears. Annie gave her a handkerchief.
‘I’ve had a word with one of the nurses,’ said Alberto, glancing between Annie and Max. ‘They’re taking her up to surgery.’
‘They say what the damage is?’ queried Max.