26The rest of the week passed in a blur. Vince had only half his mind on the job, just doing what he had to do. After his last patient on Friday evening, he shut the door, took a deep breath and put his head in his hands. The relief of getting through to the weekend was washed away by a tsunami of anxiety.
He picked up his phone. ‘Hey, Shirl, are you finished?’
‘Dusted and done, champ. Time for a bucket of sav blancs and fishy pho.’
‘Sounds delicious,’ said Vince. ‘I didn’t know you did Vietnamese.’
‘Gareth is cooking, Rooned. It’s therapy for him after treating crazies all week.’
‘Good for him,’ he responded. ‘On another matter, I went to see Lachie McKenzie on Monday.’
‘You still in the poo?’
‘Too right.’ He paused. ‘And they’ve banned me from the labour ward.’
Shirley produced a
