Page 1 of One Night with the Doctor

1

There were some days a person just shouldn’t get out of bed. For Sebastian Walker today was one of those days. His first one on call as a police negotiator in a new city, a new state, and he’d hit the ground running.

He was supposed to be spending the day putting his riverside apartment to rights because, as a result of an inconsistent and often uncertain childhood, he craved the familiarity of his things.

Unfortunately, his pager hadn’t got the memo.

Thank God this wasn’t a full-time gig.

Swallowing the last bite of the apple he’d grabbed as he’d walked out of his box-strewn apartment, he pulled up at the scene twenty minutes after his pager had first bleeped. Not bad considering the streets of Brisbane were unfamiliar territory.

Quickly checking the knot of his gun-metal grey tie in the rear view mirror, he exited his vehicle. He could see the iconic arches of the bridge as he made his way to the area cordoned off with yellow police tape. Flashing his credentials to the officer in charge of the scene, he said, ‘What have we got?’

‘Jumper. With a gun. Her name’s Noelene. She won’t say anything else. Refuses to talk to us. Says she’ll only talk to Callie Duncan.’

Sebastian heard the cluster of groans around him as he strapped on the bulletproof vest he was handed. ‘Who’s Callie Duncan?’

‘A pain-in-the-butt community mental health worker.’

‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘Get her in then.’

It didn’t matter how the cops around him felt about this Callie what’s-her-name – it was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. She obviously knew the woman on the bridge and, if she worked in mental health then, she was probably better equipped than most of the bozos here to deal with this situation.

‘I’m just going to have a little chat with Noelene.’

‘Callie, call for you.’

Geraldine Russell, head social worker and director of the Jambalyn Community Centre held out the receiver. The office was overworked and understaffed and if a phone was ringing the closest person picked it up regardless of their job title.

Seeing Callie was juggling two stacks of charts and her pager, Geri fitted the phone into the crook of Callie’s neck.

Shrugging her shoulder higher to fit the phone snugly against her ear, Callie said, ‘Yo. What’s up?’ She listened to the voice on the other end nodding a couple of times. ‘Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.’

Callie dropped her shoulder and Geri hung up the phone, raising an elegantly groomed eyebrow. ‘Be where in fifteen?’

‘Grey St Bridge. They think Noelene Sykes is going to jump. She’s asking for me.’

Callie imparted the information casually as she dumped the charts on her overflowing desk, knowing Geri was going to go ballistic.

‘Oh, no.’ Geri shook her head emphatically. ‘No way.’

Callie grinned. Geri was a petite indigenous woman – barely scraping five foot – her long greying dreadlocks the only hint she was in the mid years of her fifth decade. Her lack of height and youthful appearance had often lead to misunderstandings about her authority but never for long.

She may be small but she was mighty and one too many people had made the mistake of underestimating her, to their detriment.

‘It’s Noelene, Geri. Noelene. As if she’s going to jump off a bridge. There’s obviously been some miscommunication. She’s asking for me.’

‘No.’ Geri folded her arms. ‘Not that bridge. Not today.’

Callie smiled at her friend and colleague of ten years, both understanding and appreciating Geri’s desire to protect Callie’s own mental health. Geri hadn’t even wanted her at work today and had tried every trick in the book to get Callie to take the day off.

But Callie hadn’t wanted to be home alone with the memories, either, so at least work was a distraction.

‘Yes,’ she said, gently but firmly. ‘I can handle it.’

‘I’ll go,’ Geraldine declared. ‘I’ll do it.’

Callie shook her head. ‘It’s fine. She wants me. She asked for me.’