Page 84 of The Night Shift

‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I do.’

‘You’re brilliant,’ he said. ‘A brightly shining star. And you’re mine. How did I get so lucky?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘There must have been some sort of festive magic in the air the week we met.’

‘Festive magic. Hmmm. You got any evidence to back up that hypothesis?’

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling. ‘I think I do.’

Late December (not sure of the date, that’s the trouble with bloody hospitals)

Dear Dr Winters

I’ll keep it brief. I’m a person of few words. A bit like yourself.

I wanted to say thank you for the care and attention and all that stuff. I see how hard you work and I know it can’t be an easy job but your kindness and honesty has made a difference to me these past few days. It’s unusual for me to chat to anyone since Magda died. I’m not much of a talker as a rule and I don’t like socialising. I think perhaps we have that in common. But I forget sometimes that it’s important to engage with the people around me. No man is an island, as they say.

I hope you go on to do great things. I’m sure you will. And I hope you find someone who loves you like I loved my Magda. You deserve it. Anyone prepared to spend time with a cantankerous old goat like me in the last few days of his life, deserves a ruddy medal as far as I’m concerned.

Best wishes

Jakub Zeller