The night nurse shivered. This was the time of day when she felt most vulnerable. This no-man's-land between night and morning, a grey void when the birds stopped singing and you couldn't be sure that they'd ever sing again. When anything might have happened and she didn't yet know about it. She slumped a little, feeling suddenly faint. She didn't have the strength to see his pain, to remember who he was, that he was in her charge. She simply found him repulsive, self-absorbed and nasty.
'I realise that,' she snapped. 'But you've been here for four months now, and as far as I can tell, you seem to like it just fine.'
As she said this her lips pursed like the beak of a hen. The organ struck a strident chord.

And so he left.