Under The Hood

Ch. 9

I step into the reception office later than normal after my doctor appointment to find Jude rifling through the papers on the desk. I rest my glucose monitor and insulin in the desk drawer and power up the computer.

"What wrong?" I ask as he grumbles.

He glances over at me, telling me he can't find a quote for a customer. As he searches the desk beside mine, he adds, "I called Winfield school to tell them about last night, but they couldn't have been any less helpful. They said there's no proof."

I swivel in my chair to face him. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, they pissed me right off. Even said they're not going to look into it because of lack of resources," he grumbles.

I frown, totally stumped. "Then how will those girls know right from wrong?"

He shrugs. "They won't. I hate it when people get away with things."

I also sent a couple of emails to the school, but I won't hold my breath on them getting back to me after hearing Jude hasn't had any luck. It doesn't seem like they're all that bothered.

"Why were you late this morning?" Jude changes the subject.

I swallow. "I had an appointment. I booked it off with Nathan."

The bags under his eyes make him look weary. "Nice for people to tell me. I have two men off sick today. On our busiest day!"

I swivel my chair back to get working. "I'm sorry. I couldn't miss the appointment. Otherwise, I would have rescheduled."

Everything is looking good with my body so far. Eyes and nerves are healthy. The doctor confirmed hormones are to blame for my wavering blood sugars, saying I will probably have to inject more than I'm used to doing while I settle into the pregnancy.

"Let me know personally in the future. Nathan often forgets," he responds, turning to stride away.

The bloke has a talent for dramatic exits.

I take some calming breaths, walk over to the bench to prick my finger, and worry about the crazy low reading. I forage for my cereal bar, resting my insulin and monitor on the desk to quickly eat the nutty bar.

"Does it hurt to inject?"

I look up to find Nathan in the doorway, pointing to my equipment on the desk. I shake my head. "Not really. It depends on the part of your body."

He nods as he approaches, thinking it over in his head. "You get a telling-off from grumpy guts?"

I laugh at the name. "I think I did. I'm not sure if he was just venting or if it was all directed at me."

"The stomach bug is doing the rounds. It's not like the other lads could come in if they're projectile vomiting. Jude is the type to show up for work regardless, though, so he gets pissy when people let him down," he says, watching me put everything away.

"Imogen?" Jude is shouting from outside.

Nathan rolls his eyes at me.

"No need to shout at her," Nathan says back, shaking his head when he follows to where our boss looks like he may blow a blood vessel. "You'd be even more up the creek if she decided to leave."

"You're not going to leave, are you?" Jude responds, panic in his expression.

I shake my head. "No. My levels are low, so I had to eat something." I'm about to apologise but think better of it.

That throws a bucket of ice water over him. "Do you not feel good? Do you need to sit down? It's okay... I have this if you need to go home."

Nathan looks between us in shock.