Gentleman Sinner

*Hours pass. I’m up and down from the chair like a yo-yo, checking Penny’s pulse, blood pressure, and temperature at least every twenty minutes. I don’t need to do it so often, but if I remain unmoving in the chair then I’m likely to doze off. I wonder constantly if I’m missing something—something important. She’s not come round, her temperature hasn’t changed, and her pupils are still dilated.

At eleven o’clock, I check her over again, beginning to doubt my judgement and diagnoses. I pull her eyelid up, looking closely into her eye. I’m so focused on my task, searching for more signs, I jump a foot off the bed when she jerks.

‘I’m going to throw up,’ she chokes, rolling over to the side of the bed and heaving uncontrollably. ‘Oh God.’

I dash for the bowl and round the bed, making it just in time for her to spill her guts. Wisps of her hair dangle down, skimming the contents of the bowl, and I pull them back with my spare hand, holding her hair out of her face as she continues to throw up, her retches loud, the stench wicked. But while it’s unpleasant, I can’t help but be grateful. She’s with it, and evacuating any crap from her stomach is a good thing.

It’s a long five minutes until she stops, and I lower the bowl to the floor before properly securing her hair with a tie. ‘Better?’ I ask as she heaves herself back on to the pillow, her brow shimmering with sweat.

She turns slightly dazed eyes on me, her expression blank. ‘You must feel like my private doctor.’

I smile, my ease growing. She recognizes me. ‘Actually, I’m a nurse.’ I start tucking her back under the covers. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘My head’s pounding.’ She places a palm across her brow. ‘Did I get steaming drunk and not remember?’

I bite my lip, wondering how best to break it to her. I take some painkillers from the side table, handing them to her with a glass of water. ‘I think you were drugged, Penny.’ There’s no easy way. It is what it is, and she has to know.

Her face falls into thought; the mental battle she’s having to try to recollect is almost painful to see. ‘Drugged,’ she murmurs, looking down at the two pills in her hand. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘Take them,’ I insist, applying a little pressure to the underside of her hand for her to lift the pills to her mouth.

‘Are they safe?’ She gives me the eye as she tips them in and swallows them down with some water.

I’m biting my lip, liking her joke, but wondering if she’s fully grasped the gravity of what I’ve told her. ‘Penny, do you remember anything?’

‘I remember getting a glass of water.’ She looks past me, squinting. ‘And I remember heading for the dressing room to get ready for my set.’

‘And then?’

‘Nothing.’ She smiles faintly at me, gripping her glass of water with both hands, resting it on her tummy. ‘But I’m guessing that’s a good thing, right?’

I place a hand on her arm and squeeze. After everything she’s been through, this woman, who’s barely even an adult, is still so strong. ‘I’ve arranged for you to take the morning-after pill. It’s just a precaution.’

‘Thank you.’ Already her eyelids are becoming heavy.

‘You should sleep. I’ll go tell Theo that we talked. He’ll be anxious to hear you are okay.’ I back up towards the door, and she sighs, sinking into her pillow, her eyes closing.

‘Thank you for looking after me again, Izzy.’ Her words get quieter towards the end, her grogginess and exhaustion carrying her quickly back into sleep.

I watch her for a few moments before I slip out, closing the door gently behind me. ‘Jefferson!’ I jump, nearly colliding with him as I turn.

‘Miss White.’ He smiles, though it’s tinged with worry.

‘What are you doing here at this hour?’

‘I didn’t want to leave until I’d checked up on the young girl. How is she?’

‘She’s okay . . . I mean fine. . . . Well, she woke but drifted off to sleep again.’ I thumb behind me to the door. ‘Someone should sit with her. I was on my way to tell Theo that she came round.’

‘Ah, Mr Kane has left the grounds.’

I feel my forehead become heavy. Where would he go at this time of night, other than the Playground? Left the grounds? ‘Where’s he gone?’

‘I don’t make it a habit to question his movements, Miss White. I simply serve him.’ He moves past me to the door. ‘I’ll arrange for someone to come up and sit with the girl.’

‘Jefferson,’ I call, making him stop midstride into the room.

‘Yes, Miss White?’ He doesn’t turn around, and I sense it’s because he knows I’m going to ask him something he won’t answer.