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Bernie stands amid half packed boxes, looks around the room, runs a hand through her hair and sighs. She has nothing left to stay for, yet still the thought of leaving makes her sad.
She stayed in Holby for her marriage, her kids. The former didn’t last long and the kids don’t need her here any more, not now Cam’s in London and Charlotte’s about to head off to uni. Serena is gone, and shows no sign of returning any time soon. Her autonomy on AAU has gradually been eroded, first by Ric, then by Nina. And now they’ve taken her trauma unit, the unit Serena gifted to her, the unit they worked so hard to build together.
There’s nothing tying her to Holby but the hope – still there but stretching thinner with every passing week – that Serena will come back, will still want her when she does.
Time to move on. She bends down to look at the next shelf, removes the first half dozen books and places them in the bottom of a fresh box.
There’s a knock on the door, firm and sure. Bernie sighs again, goes to answer but clearly isn’t fast enough because there’s another stream of knocks, impatient and insistent.
‘Alright, alright, I’m coming,’ she mutters.
When she opens the door her mouth drops and her eyes go wide. Because there in the rosy glow of sunset, like some sort of avenging angel, is Serena, a furious light in her eyes, jaw and shoulders set, the dying rays of the sun turning her short silvery hair into a halo of gold around her face.
‘How dare they,’ she says, low and fierce, and Bernie feels the force of her anger vibrate through the air. ‘That hospital has taken so much from me. I won’t let them take this from you too, not without a fight.’