Lydia stands before a mirror in the cold, grey ward, fully dressed. She tries to summon her usual, confident smile but those crimson lips remain mutinously unturned. Even her own body, it seems, has lost faith in her. She glances over to the elderly woman, now sound asleep. She looks peaceful, kindly even. For a moment Lydia wonders whether she imagined their conversation. Perhaps whatever drugs the doctor administered had caused her to have a vivid nightmare. She raises her phone and taps to check her notes. The to-do list is there, just as she wrote last night. She looks up into the eyes of her own reflection. Are they… afraid?
“You’ve been given the all clear.”
Lydia whips around to find Alex standing in the doorway. He looks tired, but smiles as she meets his gaze. “Did you speak to Doctor Engel?” Lydia asks.
“Some nurse,” says Alex. “Said the doc’s on her morning rounds.” He walks over to Lydia’s bed and picks up her bag. “Shall we go?”
“Not yet.” Lydia snaps her lipstick closed and checks her hair in the mirror one last time. “I need to see him first.”
“See who?”
“Jason,” says Lydia, snatching her bag from Alex on her way to the door, heels clicking against the cold floor with each long, purposeful stride.
“Now wait a second,” says Alex, chasing after her, “I don’t think you’re in any condition to be—”
“Oh, are you a doctor now too?” she asks, without slowing down.
“You can’t just go barging in there.”
“Who’s going to stop me?” She glances at him over her shoulder. “You?”
“Hold on,” Alex pleads, reaching out to grab her arm. “This isn’t you.”
“Oh really?” She stops and spins around, jerking her arm out of his grasp. “Who is it?”
“I mean…” Alex scrambles for the right words, “without a plan. Do you even know what you’re going to say?”
“I’m a smart woman, Alex,” says Lydia, setting off down the corridor again. “I’m sure I’ll manage to put some words in an appropriate order.”
“You’re being emotional.”
She shoots him a withering look.
“That’s not what I meant,” Alex says, frustrated. “Look, this isn’t what you would usually do.”
“I wouldn’t usually get beaten around the head in a car park either,” she snaps, “but it happened and I’m going to find out why.”
“Fine,” Alex says loudly, sprinting to get ahead of her and block the corridor. “Fine, okay, if that’s what you want.”
“I wasn’t asking for your approval, Alex,” says Lydia shortly. “Please get out of my way.”
“I will when you tell me what your plan is.”
Lydia glares at him, but she’s more annoyed with herself for not having an answer.
“Listen,” says Alex, holding up his hands in an appeasing fashion, “one of the guards here is an old friend of mine.”
“A friend?” Lydia raises an immaculately-pencilled eyebrow.
“Well, acquaintance,” says Alex, sheepishly. “Whatever, why don’t you let me talk to him? Maybe I can work something out.”
“Like what?” Lydia asks, half curious, half incredulous.
“You have your ways,” he grins, “I have mine.” She stares at him with a mixture of scepticism and irritation. “Look,” he says, “if I can’t stop you, at least let me help you. Okay?”
“I can handle myself,” she remarks, pulling away.
A long-frustrated sigh bellows from Alex’s chest, “Fine.” He suddenly smiles with what appears to be a thought. “I’ll see you later.”
Before Lydia can add anything, he turns away and starts walking down the corridor with what is unmistakably a swagger in his step. She stares, open-mouthed, wondering why, and then leaves to go and see Jason.