Page 9

“You ready?”

I’d known Sal for a while. He started in A&E around the same time as me, but he’d gathered far more experience than I had working in the city. He joked this was a picnic in comparison, and I had no reason to disbelieve him.

The Queen Victoria Hospital in Edgmond-on-Sea was small, not at all like the bustling hospitals in London, but I enjoyed it here and the challenges it brought. The staff were great and so helpful, too.

“Yep, just need to drop my bag in the car.” The heatwave of the past few weeks had yet to abate, and a pint in a beer garden sounded just the job.

It wasn’t far to the pub, The Farmer’s Arms. Suntanned people sat in the garden, a sea of sunglasses and vest tops. I just hoped they were wearing their SPF50.

“What you having?” Sal caught the bartender’s eye. She sauntered over, blowing at stubborn strands of her long hair stuck to her forehead, her face flushed.

“Something cold.” I looked at the beers on tap. “A pint of lager, please.”

Sal ordered the same and tapped the bar with his card while we waited. Once he’d paid, we ventured into the garden to look for somewhere to sit, trying not to spill our drinks.

“Looks like everyone had the same idea,” Sal said as we squeezed past a group of lads, their raucous laughter loud.

“It’s nice weather, and who knows when it’ll break? Until then, we put up with it. In a week’s time, it’ll probably be pissing down, and we’ll be complaining about that instead,” I said and took a sip, the cool beer sliding down my parched throat.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He drank deeply, draining at least half of his glass. “God, I needed that.”

I did the same, grimacing at the slight bitterness. It absolutely hit the spot.

“How are you liking A&E? It’s been, what? Six months now?” He smacked his lips and drained the rest of his drink.

“I love it. It’s hard work, long hours, but so much variety. I wouldn’t get that in any other department.”

“Eh, you can, but I get what you’re saying. You never know what’s going to turn up.” He gestured to my glass. “Another?”

I nodded and drank the rest of it down. I gazed at the surrounding people while he went to the bar: young, old, men, women, families with kids and pets. The sun brought them all out to have fun.

The beer garden backed onto the river with moored boats and barges. This summer had brought some of the hottest days in decades; no one wanted to miss out.

Despite my earlier protests, I was glad I said yes to going out and sank the second pint almost as quickly as the first. Two became three, then four, and before I knew it, we were chatting and laughing with a group of girls.

“So, you’re doctors?” one of them asked, and I knew what would come next. “I have this rash.”

And there it was. She lifted her top, displaying a tanned stomach complete with a belly button ring.

“This one’s on you, Sal. I’m going to the bar. Can I get you anything, ladies?”

They declined and turned their attention back to Sal, who now had his hands on the girl’s torso.

I laughed as I walked away, pushing through the crowd towards the bar. The sky had darkened, but it was still warm, the residual heat of the day hanging like a damp blanket.

I stumbled, bumping into a group of people. Cheers erupted, but I kept my feet and lurched towards the bar.

I hadn’t had a night out like this in forever, and after today, it was what I needed to help me de-stress. Not usually a big drinker, this was the most I’d had in a long time, but the night was young, and the bar was still open.

I checked out the room while waiting to be served. The noise was overpowering. Speakers dotted around the pub streamed loud music. Large groups of people laughed and sang. There’d be a few sore heads in the morning, mine included.

“Two more pints, please,” I shouted to the bartender, struggling to be heard above the volume of voices.

He nodded, poured the drinks, took the payment, and with a cursory ‘thanks,’ moved on to the next customer, then the next. It had been a while since I’d seen it this busy. Usually, there were a few regulars propping up the bar, but tonight, everyone was here to enjoy the wonderful weather while it lasted.

By the time I got back to where we’d stood, Sal was nowhere to be seen.

“Where the fuck are you?” I mumbled and swept my gaze around the still-crowded garden, but he’d disappeared.