<div style="text-align: right"><b><b>Tuesday 19:00.<br/>
The Grocery Store<br/>
Nowhere: Somewhere near the middle.</b></b>​</div><br/><br/>It was rare that Lexi McCallington found herself lost for words but, right in this moment, that was<i>exactly </i>what she was. Standing in the grocery, she had immediately recognised Raymond Sanheim, who was also shopping for fruit. Or, more precisely, he was shopping for a good quantity of what she was staring vacantly at - namely, some grapefruit. He made a joke and she was just about to reply (albeit rather slow off the mark, she had to admit) when he told her that he<i>had </i>recognised her. Then, he thanked her.<br/><br/><i>Thanked </i>her.<br/><br/>Lexi felt her heart pounding in her chest as she wanted to scream to him no, no, he mustn't thank her. It was<i>her  </i>fault that he was a single parent,<i>her </i>fault that Jakob had grown up without a mother. She should have done more, tried harder. However, Lexi was a consummate professional and, all these years later, she had told a lot of people the news that their loved one had died. She knew that it was about -- it would always be about -- Olivia Sanheim, Jakob Sanheim, and, of course, Raymond Sanheim. Her own angst, the therapy she'd had to undergo and just how close she'd come to walking away from the job at that point.<br/><br/>Because Olivia Sanheim should<i>not </i>have died. It wasn't right or fair and Lexi had<i>not </i>gone in to medicine to do that. To tell people that young, fit, healthy people had been murdered. In her mind, murder was exactly what it was.<br/><br/>There was no justice in the whole thing.<br/><br/>While all of that had come to the forefront of her mind as she had seen Raymond, Lexi knew that her professionalism demanded that she did not speak of it. And so, in surprise at what he had said, and how kind he had been, she stood, entirely lost for words. He bade her good evening and Lexi nodded her head but got no words out.<br/><br/>She watched him as he checked out and then, Lexi shook herself and handed her basket to the cashier. "I'll be right back," she said, and she made her way out into the parking lot where Raymond had just exited to. She stepped out into the evening dusk and she hurried to catch up with him.<br/><br/>"Mr Sanheim?" She did a double-take as she looked at the car he was loading his shopping into. It was ... big. Big and impressive. Her instinct would be to think that he was overcompensating, but she pushed that to one side and reminded herself that this was<i>not</i><br/>the city. It was entirely possible that he lived in the sticks and actually needed - and used - this car for the off-road experience it should be used for.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry, Mr Sanheim," Lexi said quietly, "I am rarely struggling for words, but I was taken aback. I recognised you when you came into clinic, but I didn't feel it was appropriate or professional to raise it then," she explained. She'd dreamed about this man the night before, and it had been a most bizarre dream. She wanted to explain to him what had happened, how hard they had fought to save his wife. How hard it had hit her when, despite everything, they had failed. But this was not appropriate and Lexi was very aware of her role.<br/><br/>"But I wanted to thank you for your kind words," she explained. She felt a chill, watching a discarded ribbon or bit of packaging fluttering across the parking lot - the wind was picking up, she thought. "People see me at the worst moments of their lives. I remember your wife very well and I wanted to assure you that we all fought as hard as we could to save her." That was most certainly true, and she added the words which were also very much true. "And I include her in that. She was strong."<br/><br/>It was hard, she knew, hearing that, so Lexi continued on. "Your son is a fine young man. I was impressed with his attitude. You must be very proud." It was a strange thing, she suddenly realised. His wife had been the first patient she lost. His son had been her first patient here. Must be something about those with the surname Sanheim. "I'm new to town," she explained. "do you know of a local music scene?"<br/><br/>Oh, Lexi, she thought to herself. He won't know, or care. What a foolish thing to ask. "I play, a little," she explained. Then, she rummaged in her pocket and handed him a business card. "If you do .... my home address and personal number are on there." Finally, having been struck unable to speak initially, Lexi stopped babbling and smiled at him. "You took me by surprise," she explained more slowly, with a slight smirk of self-depreciation, "but thank you." Motioning to his bag, her slight smile broadened into a grin. "A celebration dinner?"<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><b>Tuesday 20:30.<br/>
In the living room.<br/>
Nowhere: Somewhere near the middle.</b>​</div><br/><br/>Picking up the bowl that her ramen had been in, Lexi stood up from the kitchen chair and padded, barefoot, into the kitchen. She quickly washed up the bowl and left it on the side to drain then poured herself a glass of red wine and moved back to slouch on the sofa.<br/><br/>She wasn't a patient woman.<br/><br/>Lexi knew this about herself and most certainly no one who'd worked with her would think that she was. So, when Sandra didn't answer the call at their agreed time, Lexi didn't try again. She'd be held up at work, Lexi knew, so she sat down and pulled her journal out from a drawer and then she started to write. But, the words wouldn't come, and her mind wasn't on it. She caught herself listening to the music which was playing through Spotify in the sound system throughout the house.<br/><br/><i>Here Comes The Rain Again</i>, one of her favourite Eurythmics tracks, came on and she smiled. "Hey Norbert! Pause the track." She'd named it Norbert when she got here and set the system up. It was all very high-fangled high-falooting high-tech. But she loved it, loved that there was music in every room. She knew what she wanted to do.<br/><br/>So, Lexi got up and moved over to the piano. It was incredibly thoughtful of Patrick Smithson - her boss, the man who owned this house, her mentor - he'd had a piano put in here for her. Or, Lexi assumed he'd had it done for her, he'd been very keen when he'd heard that she played. "Hey Norbert," she said. "Resume track."<br/><br/>Immediately, as the song played, Lexi's fingers were dancing across the keys in perfect time; as a young person, she'd been considered a musical prodigy, but Lexi had always known that music would be her second love, her hobby. She loved it, there was no doubting it and it took her to a place of calmness, of clarity.<br/><br/>Annie Lennox's voice was just in between lines, when she heard it.<br/><br/><i>'talk to me ...."</i><br/><div style="text-align: right"><i><b>ding - dong</b></i>​</div><i>'like lovers do."</i><br/><br/>Who could be at the door at half past eight at night? Lexi knew that, out here, it might be someone who had a medical emergency, so she stood and made her way immediately to the front door. That she was in a pair of Spiderman short-leg pyjamas with her hair loose was irrelevant to her. Someone might need help.