Page 72 of Peep
“Just wait til yuh tayse it.”
While she serves our slices, I prepare the teas. Once we’re settled, she turns on the small TV in the breakroom, landing on BBC Yorkshire. We tuck into our cakes, moaning in sync at the gooey goodness.
“Ok, this might be my favourite yet.”
Femi’s proud smile warms my chest. My job isn’t exactly exhilarating, but I’m content here; it’s laid back, and I work with a wonderful woman. The icing on the cake is that my boyfriend lives here. It’s all very convenient and almost feels too good to be true. I’m deep in blissful thoughts when Femi tuts and shakes her head at the TV.
My eyes shoot to the screen, and the cake almost comes up.
“Jahmar work deh, right?”
A news anchor stands outside the front of York Hospital, giving a report. I barely hear the words; my head feels like it’s been dunked underwater. I can read though, and the words gut me from the inside out.
‘Male doctor taken in for questioning after allegations of kidnap and illegal orchiectomies.’
My hand slams over my mouth. I force myself to swallow the cake that’s trying to climb up my throat. Femi stares at me for an answer. I need to play it cool, or she’ll know this is about Jahmar. With a shaky hand, I bring my tea to my lips and force myself to swallow the chunk lodged in my throat.
“Yes, he works there sometimes,” I rasp. It’s like a lump of coal has been wedged in there, scratching at my oesophagus.
“I erm, I’m gonna call him, see what it’s all about.”
“Ok, den,” she replies, eyebrows drawn together.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Without even thinking about it, I leave Emeralds and head straight to York Hospital. Femi’s going to be pissed and suspicious, but I don’t care. I need to speak to his co-workers and find out where they’ve taken him.
This is it, our downfall—it was always inevitable.
I scramble out of my car and seethe as I frantically try to pay for the overpriced parking. I spot a news van that seems to be packing up as several uniformed cops try to usher them away.
I head straight for A&E, where Jahmar said he’s working today. Racing through the waiting area, I almost collide with the reception desk. Deciding it’s best not to outright ask which police station he’s been sent to, I pretend to be a patient.
“Hi, excuse me, I’m looking for Jahmar, I have an appointment.”
The nurse with thick-framed glasses and an eighties perm looks up at me with magnified eyes.
“We don’t take appointments. You’re in A&E, love.”
There’s a weird buzz in the air, doctors and nurses looking flustered and overworked. I’m sure the news has caused a bit of a stir. My chest grows tight with panic.
“Who do you have an appointment with? Maybe I can point you in the right direction,” the nurse kindly offers.
“Jahmar, I mean Dr Walker, he locums here.”
“Oh, ok. Let me see if I can track him down. Please take a seat.”
I ball my fists, digging my nails into my palms to stop them from shaking.
The nurse wanders off, poking her head behind several curtains before stopping outside one and animatedly chatting to whoever’s behind it. My feet move on their own, following her and trying to peek inside. I need to set my eyes on him.
“Sure, almost done here. I’ll be out in five.” The knots in my stomach uncurl at the sound of his smooth voice. He sounds so steady. Is what I saw on the news bullshit, and they just came in to ask some questions? My head is fucking gone. I have too many questions.
When the nurse turns around, she jumps. “Oh, Jesus Christ, you scared me.”
“Sorry, so can I see him?” My lingering panic trickles through my tone, making the nurse eye me suspiciously.
“Yes, he’s almost done. Now, please take a seat in the waiting area,” she says sternly this time, straightening her shoulders.
