Kate’s eyes flutter open and she looks up at me.
“Are you alright?” I whisper.
“What?” She frowns and tries to sit up and onto her elbow.
“Lie down,” I bark.
“How many tablets has she taken?” the operator asks.
“How many tablets have you taken?” I ask Kate.
She frowns. “Huh?” She then flops back to the floor; she appears drunk.
“She’s disoriented,” I reply.
“She’s taken a strong painkiller. Count the tablets, sir. I need to know how many she has had.”
“Send a fucking ambulance before I put my hand through this phone and strangle you,” I scream.
This bitch is hopeless . . . no wonder people die every day.
“Count. The. Tablets.”
My fury bubbles and I count through the blister pack. “There are thirty-eight tablets here.”
“How many came in the box?”
I speed-read the directions on the box as I look for the amount. “Pack of forty.”
“So, she’s had only two?”
I stare at the dazed woman in front of me. “I think she’s had more than that.”
“Can you look through her belongings and see?”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
“Listen here, you motherfucker. I want an ambulance to the Miles Media building right now. If this woman dies I’m having you charged with . . .” I pause as I try and think of an appropriate charge. “Something bad,” I splutter. “Murder.”
“Just check her bag.”
I begin to rattle through Kate’s bag, wallet, keys, makeup . . . tampons. I wince and throw them over my shoulder.
“Well?” the operator asks.
“I’m looking, alright? There’s a lot of fucking crap in here.” Oh, screw this, I tip the handbag upside down onto the carpet and stuff flies everywhere.
“What are you doing?” Kate whispers as she sleepily sits up. “Get out of my bag.”
My eyes nearly bulge from their sockets. “Get out of your bag? Are you fucking serious right now?”
“What?” she whispers.
“What’s happening, sir?”
I grit my teeth. “The patient is about to get knocked back out. That’s what’s happening.”
“What is your name, dear?”
Kate frowns. “Kate Landon.”
“What’s happened?”
Kate frowns as she looks around. “I don’t know.”
“You took some medication?” the operator asks.
“No,” she whispers.
I hold the box up and widen my eyes. “Look familiar?”
“Oh.” She puts her hand over her forehead as she remembers. “Yes, I took some painkillers.”
“What were the painkillers for, dear?”
“Period pain.” Kate’s eyes flick to me.
I roll my eyes. Now I’ve fucking heard it all.
“How many did you take?” the operator asks.