THE ROAD THROUGH THE FORBIDDEN

CHAPTER IV (RED-HAIRED BEAUTY)

February, 1987

Today's duty promised to be quiet. There hadn't been many new patients recently and the care of the others was mainly provided by Dr Prot. Tomasz felt completely unnecessary in this place and had the impression that he would not learn anything new here. Unfortunately, if you don't come from a wealthy family and don't have connections, you are left with working only in such establishments. He explained to himself that at least he wouldn't get any worse and that this was a kind of "life school" that he had to go through at the beginning of his career.

He thought about the last few weeks and the direction in which his affair with Katarzyna was going. It was supposed to be a fleeting acquaintance in which they both didn't want to get too involved and they were only supposed to have sex together. However, recent events and the way Tomasz conducted their encounters did not quite meet the girl's expectations, while he was just getting on. Kasia did not like the role of a passive doll with whom Mr Doctor, to satisfy his desires and, incidentally, hers, played for hours. She wanted closeness, tenderness and a proper fuck, not a cat-and-mouse game. Besides, she evidently expected some kind of declaration from him, as she kept asking where their relationship was going. Tomasz, however, was not looking for anyone long term now, nor did he intend to look for anyone in the near future.

He was snapped out of his musings by the sound of an ambulance that had just pulled up outside the admission room. Three paramedics appeared in the corridor with a woman on a stretcher. Behind them, a stocky man was dragging himself along with his head bowed. He was practically purple in the face, and if it wasn't for the fact that it was the woman lying on the stretcher, there might have been some doubt as to who was the patient here and who was the attendant. Tomasz was so focused on the man that he didn't realise the paramedics had passed him and were moving towards the lift. He managed to catch up with them at the last minute. Out of the corner of his eye he still managed to spot two militiamen walking towards them. Fortunately, the lift doors closed in front of them.

- What's going on? - He asked, and the lift door nearly slammed his lab coat shut.

- I don't know - replied the oldest of them. - It's not for me to judge, but probably standard - a would-be suicide. Her legs, arms and abdomen are cut. We found her in her bathroom, a razor blade lying next to her. Her husband denies any involvement. The woman, unfortunately, not very talkative. The militia will be here soon.

- They're already here - he sighed, and it occurred to him that Prot was going to pass the buck to him again.

Tomasz now had a chance to have a closer look at the girl. Her face was beautiful. He couldn't judge the figure because she was lying on a stretcher, wrapped in a straitjacket like a cocoon. One thing he was sure of, she was tall. She had big green eyes and red hair. He noticed tiny freckles in places on her pale complexion, but they were not as prominent as on other women with this colour of hair. Her face was unnaturally pale, most likely due to blood loss and poor lighting.

The lift doors opened and to his eyes, appeared, of course, none other than Dr Prot. Irreplaceable, as always in times of need, a wonderful and caring doc. Excellent, so another patient lost, Tomasz thought.

- Oh, Tomek! I see you have already become acquainted with our patient. Well, well, I guess you want to get your employee of the month badge - laughed Prot.

Tomasz pretended he hadn't heard the last sentence.

- What have we here, gentlemen? - the head of department turned to the paramedics.

- A 25-year-old woman. Superficial cut wounds to the abdomen, legs and arms, probably with a razor blade that was lying next to her in the bathroom. Wounds not very deep, blood loss negligible. Patient not very talkative, more frightened by the whole situation than actually injured. We don't know if she was trying to kill herself or get her husband's attention, but the old scars on her legs and arms show that this is not the first time for her. Perhaps it is to you that she will want to say more. Where can we put her? We have another call, we have to go, and the ambulances are in short supply.