Leaving

Caroline couldn't believe what she'd just heard.

The last couple of months had felt like a waking nightmare. She had gone from being overjoyed when Mac returned her feelings, to abject terror when she was told about the accident, to overwhelming devastation when it turned out that Mac had lost his memories of their relationship.

She'd had hope that with time, he would either remember her, or that whatever he had liked about her before would still be there, and he'd fall for her again.

The conversation she'd just overheard between Mac and Guy had put paid to that hope.

"And the loser, I think for the loser, a night of terror, with the biggest freak in town – and that would be Dr Caroline Trodd, the google eyed Neanderthal."

Mac and Guy had both made noises of disgust, and she had fled without saying anything.

It was amazing, that in one sentence, Mac had managed to highlight most of the things she liked least about herself. People had been calling her a freak since she was a small child. Born a precocious girl, with high intelligence, to average, middle class parents, Caroline had not fit in at all.

Social situations had baffled her, and she'd never understood how some people just seemed to know instinctively how to act and what to say, to make other people like them. So, she'd gone through school, university and life in general with a tentative, awkward persona, and a deep fragility hidden under the surface.

She'd thought that things had been going well at this hospital, and that she'd been making real friends. And the thing with Mac, though brief, had given her confidence and hope.

But apparently that was an aberration.

Caroline decided that straight after work, she was going to get horrifically drunk.

When she woke the next day, she realised that she might have reached a turning point in her life. It was clear to her now that she'd been sliding into depression, and that if she didn't do something about it, it would only get worse.

But what to do? The usual remedies in such cases might be helpful – therapy, medication etc, but she couldn't help thinking that they wouldn't tackle the underlying cause. Or at least, if she stayed in the toxic environment her work now seemed to her to be, she might not be strong enough to actually get better. And she really wanted to get better, to recover and actually enjoy life.

She wished she had someone to call for help, but her mother would be next to useless. Her solution when anyone was feeling down, was to go out and get drunk, and then shag someone silly. While Caroline thought that might actually be fun, she knew it wouldn't help. It might actually make things worse.

As she was showering, a possible solution popped into her head.

What if she moved away?

In a new city and a new job, she could seek out the help she needed, and begin new relationships with colleagues and friends on her own terms. She didn't have long to go on her specialist registrar's training, and there was no reason she couldn't complete it at another hospital. In fact, it might look good on her CV if she received training at lots of different hospitals – she could sell it as her wanting to learn as much as she possibly could, so she could be a better surgeon.

Yes, she decided, this idea had potential.

Caroline decided to look for a new job online, and away from work, so that no one would find out about it. The last thing she needed was an interrogation and mockery from Dr Guy Secretan. That man didn't know the meaning of the word privacy.

Plus, if she did it online, that limited the chance that post would come to the house, and that Angela would see it. Angela was not a great respecter of privacy either. She was, in fact, an incorrigible gossip.

She found an ideal post at a very prestigious teaching hospital – the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, it was tied to the University of Edinburgh, a renowned institution of research and learning. Yes, it was a bloody long way to move, but such a complete change in her surroundings might be just what she needed. Besides, it meant she was very unlikely to bump into anyone from East Hampton.

She put in her application on their Scottish NHS website, and waited to hear back, resisting the urge to bite her nails.

If she made it through the first round of applications, and the telephone interview, then she would be asked to visit the department for an in-person interview, which meant taking a train to Scotland.

She resolved not to dwell on whether or not she would be successful, she was just pleased that she was finally being proactive in her own life.

At first, Caroline didn't notice the email alert she'd been waiting for appear on her phone. This was because she'd just had a rather upsetting conversation with Mac.

She had successfully passed the telephone interview, and she was told she would hear today about when the in-person interview would be. She had told the person who'd interviewed her on the phone the days she would be off from East Hampton Hospital and they had promised to try and schedule her for one of those days, allowing for travel time from London.

Caroline had just been putting her empty lunch tray on the trolley, rather distracted by wondering if she was doing the right thing by leaving, and she ended up almost dropping a sauce bottle. Perhaps she was being too hasty, and the prospect of a new job was an escape, rather than her trying to face her problems.

And then Mac had appeared.

"I think that maybe there was, like, a misunderstanding."

His whole spiel about wiping the slate clean was enough to clinch it for Caroline. If she got offered the new job, then she would take it. And to make sure she couldn't accuse herself of running away, she would look up reputable, private therapists in Edinburgh, before she moved. She would make appointments to find the right one, and she would keep to them. And she would get a GP and discuss medications.

She couldn't stay here anymore.

So, because of the shock of her conversation with Mac, albeit a rather one-sided conversation, Caroline had not noticed the email at first.

When she did, she read it with mixed feelings.

They wanted her at the ERI this weekend and had arranged for her to meet her prospective boss on a Saturday, so that it wouldn't disrupt her work schedule. His name was Professor Uren, Professor of Interventional Cardiology, and apparently, he was looking forward to meeting her.

She swallowed around a lump in her throat, but determinedly answered the email, accepting the interview.

There was no turning back now.

The weekend visit to Edinburgh went wonderfully well. The hospital was top of its class, and the staff couldn't be friendlier. She wasn't the only English person there, which was good, as otherwise she might have felt too out of place.

As it was, however, she been treated brilliantly. She was very impressed by the tight ship Professor Uren ran, and for all his lofty position, he himself was a very down to earth, family man. He told Caroline that they were delighted she'd applied, as he'd heard great things about her, from Professor Dorling, one of the surgeons she'd trained under at St Thomas' hospital.

Caroline hoped this personal touch might mean she was a shoo-in for the job. They told her she should hear in a few days, and so she had returned home on the train, full of hope for the future.

Things at East Hampton went on as before.

No one knew she had been away for the weekend, as Angela herself was away with her boyfriend, on holiday. When Angela returned home, Caroline was already there and was treated to hearing how Angela and her boyfriend had broken up in spectacularly and characteristically dramatic fashion.

Later that week they had a documentary crew filming at the hospital, and Caroline stood back to observe how everyone seemed to fall all over themselves to get the filmmakers to notice them. She thought the whole thing was rather funny.

Angela had ended up being the star of the show, and when she told Caroline that she'd been asked to accompany Patrick, the director, to Toronto, Caroline was actually rather pleased. This meant she wouldn't have to ask Angela to move out, should Caroline herself end up moving to Scotland. So, she did her best to encourage Angela to go.

As she waited for her friend outside Sue White's office, wherein Angela was trying to be let out of her employment contract early, Caroline got a phone call from Professor Uren.

They wanted to offer her the job.

She felt like she couldn't breathe for a moment, but then she regained control over herself. Without thinking about it, she immediately said yes. He said he'd email the formal offer, and it will contain the information on where to send details of her notice period with her current employers, and her possible moving date. They were apparently willing to work around her logistical needs, which was a refreshing perspective.

They clearly wanted her to be happy about the job.

That afternoon, Caroline was just entering the doctors mess, looking for a quick coffee, when she spotted Mac. They hadn't spoken much after their last conversation, just the necessary stuff when they were opposite each other in theatre, and when they were dealing with their patients.

"Alright," he said as she walked past him to get to the coffee machine.

"Fine," she replied, not wanting to engage.

"Oh, I meant to say – please ignore what I said the other week about us wiping the slate clean. Apparently, it was never dirty." He said casually. Caroline paused for a moment. She realised he was expecting a reply.

"Wasn't it?" She asked, absently, trying to find a clean mug to use.

"No, A rogue anaesthetist persuaded me that we were sworn enemies in another life. I now believe that to be a fabrication." He declared, a little haughtily.

Caroline repressed a sigh. She should have known that Guy would have had something to do with it. He could never resist sticking his oar in and seemed to delight in keeping her and Mac away from each other.

The sooner she was away from all this pointless melodrama, the better.

"Right," is all she said, before making her coffee and leaving.

She didn't notice Mac frowning after her, looking confused and slightly hurt.

Instead, she took her coffee outside and reflected on what just happened. Had Mac come to her last week and told her this, would it have made any difference? Surely all this lying from Guy was just a symptom of a larger problem. And the real issue was that she had tied up too much of her self-esteem in whether or not Mac wanted to be with her. It was especially important now, as it seemed he was never going to remember what they had, and clearly wasn't interested in finding something new.

If he was, wouldn't he have made an effort to be on friendly terms after he'd suggested they wipe the slate clean? He hadn't, and she didn't think he was likely to in the future.

No, she was even more sure now that she was doing the right thing.

Because the truth was, she was in love with Mac, and her feelings were obviously unrequited.

What happened before the accident was probably due to him being drunk and feeling nostalgic about leaving the hospital. She had to leave. If she stayed here, pining for him, she was worried it would destroy her – or worse. It could turn her into a bitter, old shrew.

No, best to get away while she still had some semblance of self-worth, and the determination to get a better life for herself.

And anyway, the Royal Infirmary was a brilliant career move, and surely that should be her focus, not some stupid boy?

Yes, she told herself, she was definitely doing the right thing.

She sipped her coffee and then gasped, her tongue burning, "Hot, hot, hot".

She hadn't bothered confronting Guy about lying to Mac. What would be the point? He wasn't going to apologise, and it wasn't like having a go at him would make any difference. He was always out for himself, and a telling off from her wouldn't make him change his ways. More likely, he would taunt and poke at her about how Mac didn't remember that he liked her. It was best just to let it go, she didn't have the emotional energy to go through all that.

So, she resolved to try and serve out her mandatory eight weeks' notice as quietly as possible.

As far as she was aware, the only people who knew she was leaving were her boss, (which was not Mac – no matter what he claimed to Guy about them being on his team), and Joanna Clore. Joanna, frankly, couldn't give a toss about Caroline and whether or not she was leaving, so when she had requested that both of them keep it to themselves, Joanna was quick to agree.

To be honest, Caroline thought that Joanna was hoping a handsome new surgical registrar might be hired in her place, and actually couldn't wait for her to leave.

Since Angela had left the house, Caroline was finally able to pack up the various pieces of her life without anyone noticing. She found the whole process to be bittersweet, yet cathartic.

At work she has also found herself feeling rather detached from the every day madness going on around her. She just seemed to glide through it, just doing her job and then going home. It was, she supposed, because she no longer had a stake in any of it. Guy's rudeness and Mac's aloofness simply rolled off her, leaving her fondly amused, rather than hurt.

She was slightly worried that she might be falling into a dangerous apathy, and finally completed a promise she has made to herself. She had recently put down a deposit on a lovely garden flat in Newington, a part of Edinburgh in easy reach of the hospital, and looked up her local GP. She called them to find out what their registration requirements were, so that she would have it all ready when she got there.

She also looked up local private therapists, and had found the Southside Centre, within walking distance from her new flat. There were a number of different therapists working from there, all with their own specialisms. She had decided to meet one she liked the sound of first and see if they got on in person. After all, she knew enough about mental health and therapy to know that if you didn't like the therapist, there was no point in going to see them.

With all this decided and arranged, she went on with her work at East Hampton Hospital, with a feeling of hope shoring up her defences and making her last few weeks actually rather pleasant. It was actually a nice change.

Ten days before her last day, Caroline rather cautiously accepted Mac's request to walk with him outside on the grounds. When he suggested they take a seat on a bench, she tentatively sat down, wondering what this was all about. Surely, he wasn't about to make a move? That seemed rather unlikely, considering their history. Maybe he was buttering her up before asking her to swap shifts with him… he was certainly smiling at her rather disarmingly.

"Stop it," she scolded lightly.

"Stop what?" He protested. "I'm only smiling." He said, looking at her with what seemed like admiration, but which Caroline interpreted as definite buttering up.

They were silent for a moment, and then Caroline made a decision. Maybe she could have a little fun at his expense, especially if he was about to ask her for a favour.

"Do you want to come round my gaff tonight?" She asked, echoing the words she had said to him so many months ago. It filled her with longing and bittersweet nostalgia.

"Your gaff?" He clarified.

"That's not rude," she defended, feeling slightly off balance by the déjà vu.

"Not coming, if it's not rude," he declared, unknowingly repeating himself. And then he paused, and a flare of recognition swept across his face.

Before she knew what was happening, they were leaning into each other, and she was convinced that, not only did he remember what happened between them before the accident, but he was about to kiss her.

And then suddenly, he stopped.

A woman with wild, curly, blonde hair, had appeared behind him, and put her hands over his eyes.

"Guess who!?" she demanded, with a teasing lilt.

Mac removed her hands from his face, and said, flatly, "Holly."

Later, at home packing, and looking back on that moment, Caroline told herself that that was when she finally gave up on her and Mac ever getting together. Even as she told herself that, she knew that deep down, she was lying.

She still loved him, was still in love with him, and part of her felt she probably always would be. But here was yet another complication, and another reason to escape while she still had her sanity.

The next few days at the hospital were filled with drama, and yet Caroline felt even more of a disconnect from the people around her. After all, soon she will move to the other end of the country, and likely never see them again. And it made her wonder if she should tell them she was going. Take the time to say a proper goodbye.

An outside observer would probably point out the obvious – Caroline's self-perception was tragically skewed. She believed, erroneously, that no one will miss her, and so there is no need to say goodbye. Guy will move on to his next conquest, and Mac now has Holly and their newly revealed son.

Drama, drama, drama.

And maybe, deep down, in the dark recesses of her heart, she wanted to punish them.

Punish them, for not seeing how desperately unhappy she was, for calling her a freak and for dismissing her as a weirdo. Maybe, when she's gone, they'll realise what they had, and it'll be too late. She knew she shouldn't be fostering that vindictive streak, for fear the it might get bigger, but she couldn't help it.

She decided to make a note of all this twisted thinking, realising it's something she'll need to tell her eventual therapist. Perhaps, in time, she'll be able to get some insight. And that's the first step to change.

On her very last day at East Hampton, Caroline woke up and decided she needed to be a grown up, and make a clean break with her friends and colleagues. She went over in her head and made a mental list the people she wanted to say goodbye to.

Mac – obviously, Guy, Martin and Boyce. In their own way, they had been kind to her on occasion, and it would be a bitter note to start her new life on, if she just left without saying something.

So, when she got to work that morning, she tried to speak with each of them in turn,

Which turned out to be easier said, than done.

By some strange coincidence, everyone was horrendously busy, it seemed. Too busy, in fact, to talk to her. Even for a few minutes.

Martin – he was trying to hide from his girlfriend, who was accusing him of calling her a troll.

Guy – he was in pursuit of the new nurse in paediatrics.

Boyce – he was trying to set up some kind of flour bomb in Statham's office, and Mac – he was meeting Holly and their son at some swings in the local park.

Caroline decided to take this as a sign and decided not to pursue what was clearly a lost cause. But she couldn't leave without getting her feelings off her chest, so before she finished her shift, she found herself a quiet nook, and wrote a letter.

That evening, she was in the locker room, and hanging up her coat, for the last time. It felt so final, probably because it was, and she felt sort of weird about it. Like, there should be sad music playing the background or something.

She sat down to change her shoes, and debated in her mind, posting the letter in Mac's locker, or throwing it in the bin. It had been good to get all that off her chest, but now, she wasn't really sure if she wanted him to read it. Would it really accomplish anything? And was it fair to dump it all on him now, since she had not had the courage to say it to his face?

She was interrupted by the object of her thoughts popping his head round the door.

"Caroline, sorry I brushed you off earlier, rude of me. You wanted to talk about something?" Mac asked, and she looked up, flustered.

"Oh, right, well, I," she was saved from explaining herself, or making something up – she hadn't decided which she would do yet, by Sue White dragging Holly into the room by the collar of her white coat.

Caroline sighed, exasperated. She was beginning to think fate was against her.

"You tell him right now young lady! I saw that hair dye in your bag! And the DNA test! He's not the daddy! Tell him! Or I will!" Sue was screeching at Holly and both Mac and Caroline were stunned mute.

She regained her senses before him and managed to slip quietly past the chaos.

Deciding to take a leap of faith or something like it, she posted her letter into his locker, unaware that, though he was still flabbergasted by the news that Mackenzie might not be his son, Mac still noticed her every move.