“Where’s my father?” I yelled.
Edward flashed a look of confusion, then grinned. “Oh, you must mean George. Your doctor telephoned him to say that you’d be returning home and that you will call him when you are able. He was a bit persistent at first, but eventually he consented once he understood your need for some time to yourself.”
“My doctor didn’t tell him that. You rang him, didn’t you?”
“According to this form, I am your doctor. I’m assuming responsibility for you. It’s only right, when you think about it.”
“You’re a f*****g obstetrician! Not a psychiatrist!”
“I am an obstetrician and general practitioner. And you are pregnant and obviously in a fragile state. The doctor sees fit that I should be able to handle things from here. So, it’s me or the asylum.”
“I’ll take the asylum
