I feel so bad having to tell you,” Donna said, “but I thought you should know

Surtsey asked: “How’s Mum doing?” Donna looked at her. “Not great.” Surtsey turned away, the look in Donna’s eyes too much. “I just want her to be comfortable,” Surtsey said. “She is, trust me.” Surtsey shook her head. “I feel so guilty, I should be looking after her.” She felt Donna’s hand on hers.

“Louise was right back there. I get paid to look after her,” Donna said. “She’s in the best hands, even if I say so myself.”

Surtsey felt tears coming, tried to blink them away. She slipped her hand away from Donna’s and took a sip of coffee. She was deliberately not looking west to the Inch, her face turned upwards to the sun in the other direction.

She knew Donna was studying her, could feel her gaze without looking. “You don’t look like you had a very good night,” Donna said.

“No.”

“Out on the town?”

“Hardly.” Surtsey didn’t say anything else.

“It’s none of my business,” Donna said. Surtsey was silent for a long time. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The hash was still burning through her synapses.

Silence

More silence for a while. A cormorant scudded along the surface of the water then landed on a groyne and faced the sun with its wings open like a meditating Buddhist.

“How’s your love life?” Surtsey said eventually. Donna laughed. “What love life?”

“There must be guys interested, you’re a goodlooking girl.”

“Who works odd shifts and deals with the dying.” Donna looked mortified for a moment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s OK.” Surtsey smiled at her. “So you don’t get a chance to get kinky with your nurse’s uniform?”

Donna touched the material of her scrubs and laughed warmly. “You’ve seen my uniform, right?”

Joggers and cyclists throbbed up and down the prom, parents taking their kids to Towerbank along the road, their red uniforms little flashes of future promise.

Surtsey watched them and felt like an imposter. She felt like she’d been living someone else’s life since last night.

How could she square that with sitting here drinking latte and chatting on a beautiful summer morning, the shush of waves and the noise of kids, dogs snuffling around their feet and gulls pecking at the bins along the way, old folk doddering down the steps from the baths.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Donna said. “About Louise.”

“Let me guess, she’s going to die.” “Surtsey.”

“Sorry.”

Donna hesitated, her thumb flicking at the polystyrene lid of her coffee. “She asked about pain medication.”

“She’s on a lot of morphine already, right?”

“I don’t mean that,” Donna said. “I mean additional medication.”

“So what?”

“Large amounts of it.”

It took Surtsey a second. “Oh.”

“Sorry.”

Surtsey looked out to sea. Flat and shimmering this morning, untroubled. “You didn’t give her any?”

“God, no,” Donna said. “Technically I’m supposed to report it to my supervisor.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No.”

“Thanks.”

“Maybe you could have a word with her?” Surtsey sighed. She saw tears in Donna’s eyes. “Hey, don’t be stupid.”

“I feel so bad having to tell you,” Donna said, “but I thought you should know.”

Friendship

Surtsey touched Donna’s wrist, a leather friendship bracelet there. “You did the right thing.”

Silence for a moment, Surtsey’s hand still on Donna’s bracelet. She thought about her mum. Was she really trying to get enough pills together to end it herself? How the hell was she supposed to bring something like that up in casual conversation? And why hadn’t she spoken to Surtsey about it first? “You’re a good daughter,” Donna said eventually. “I’m not so sure.”

“You are.”

“Yeah, well.” Surtsey noticed the time on her watch. “Help. I’d really better get over to KB.” She didn’t move for a moment, just breathed, then swivelled and hopped off the wall.

“No rest for the wicked,” Donna said. “Something like that.”

All the way on the 42 bus Surtsey tried to get her heart to beat like normal. She breathed carefully as they trundled past Peffermill and Cameron Toll, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Or was it meant to be the other way round?

She jumped off at the bottom of Mayfield and crossed West Mains Road. The Grant Institute was a brown 1930s block on the edge of campus facing over the road, home to geology and geophysics, including her, Halima, Brendan and the rest.

Edinburgh Uni enticed students to come with the promise of vibrant student life up in George Square, bars, cafes and clubs, being in the thick of the festival in summer. Then after first year undergrad they shoved you out here with all the other science nerds, surrounded by posh houses and fields, half an hour on the bus from town.

She went up the stairs to their open-plan department office. Somehow it always managed to be gloomy in here even on sunny days. The room was half full, folk checking social media or reading news on screens, one or two actually doing some writing or data analysis. Halima and Brendan both smiled at her as she went to the kettle, but she didn’t stop.

She spooned coffee into her mug and waited for the kettle to boil. She stared at Tom’s empty office at the end of the room. The door was open, but then it always was. That was one of the good things about Tom as a boss, there was no sense of superiority.

Gossip

Surtsey felt dizzy. Her eyes defocused then came back as the kettle switched off. She poured, splashing water onto the table.

“Got some gossip.”

The voice made her twitch and she spilled more water, splats of it on the floor between her feet. It was Halima. “Babes, watch yourself, you nearly boiled your shoes there.”

Surtsey put the kettle down and stirred her coffee. Halima grinned. “Apparently Tom’s gone missing.” “What?”

“No one has seen our beloved professor since yesterday.” Halima was mugging like a detective. Surtsey looked at her watch and shook her head. “He’ll just be coming in late.”

Halima wagged a finger in the air. “His wife was here this morning asking if anyone had seen him.” “Alice was here?” Surtsey looked round. “Where were you, by the way?” Halima said. “I thought maybe you’d pulled a sickie. That new grass is crazy.”

“I went to see Mum.”

Halima’s goofball face faded. “Of course, sorry.”

More tomorrow.