The Last Night Shift · Second Shift · Pulse Beat
They gave her a party on the ward, which she hated. It was a small one: a cake from the bakery downstairs, paper cups of tea, a card signed by the whole night staff. Mrs D'Souza, to everyone's…
They gave her a party on the ward, which she hated.
It was a small one: a cake from the bakery downstairs, paper cups of tea, a card signed by the whole night staff. Mrs D'Souza, to everyone's astonishment, had put a bunch of marigolds on the desk. She did not look at Fatima. "I was wrong about the notebook," she said gruffly, at the end, to the wall. "Don't tell anyone."
Dr Menon gave a short speech, the first of his career. "Fatima Sheikh joined this ward six years ago," he said, "and in that time has taught three registrars, saved four lives that I know of, and read more at three in the morning than I did in medical school." He raised his paper cup. "She'll be the only doctor in the city who has actually been the nurse. Please look after her."
Her friend Sunita cried. Matron shook her hand. Mr Rao, who had come with a bag of oranges, sat in the corner in a clean shirt, beaming like a man at a wedding.
At six, she walked the ward one last time, with her torch shaded by her palm.