50
Julian Mills stood in Tanya Henderson’s room on the ward, watching the monitor next to her bed. Her breathing had become laboured without the endotracheal tube, which lay on the pillow next to her head, the bulbous end thick with a coating of mucus and saliva.
He could feel his heart beating in his chest, knowing it wouldn’t be long until it happened. And he had to hope that the nurse wouldn’t arrive in the meantime.
The bleeping of the monitoring equipment was far louder than he wanted it to be, and he was pleased that he’d asked the nurse to fetch him something from the café while he watched the fort. Sure, she’d think him a complete sexist arsehole, but so what? At least she wouldn’t know the real truth. And even if she did, it would never be proven.
Once it was too late — once T
