CHAPTER 40
THE WARD MANAGER had asked him to visit Mrs Taylor; she must be a new patient. As he made his way to ward 8 with his hairdryer and trays of curlers, Julian wondered if what Simon had told him was true; that the old ladies loved him. He hadn’t been aware that his presence was bringing untold comfort to the elderly, but a steady flow of female patients well past their prime that visited his little salon in the hospital foyer had seemed to reinforce the message.
Opening the outer doors to the ward, Julian wrinkled his nose as the smell of excreta assailed his nostrils. He didn’t know how Simon could enjoy working in such a fetid atmosphere. He preferred to be downstairs in his salon as much as he could, dressing the hair of the walking wounded. However, calls such as these fr
