(2013) Looks Could Kill Read Online Free Page A

procreate but keep sex hidden from prying eyes” seemed to be what she was hearing all the time. Her schoolgirl crushes had remained just crushes only expressed in her diary, but she’d had to end that when her mother discovered it and read the contents. Luckily, she’d never made any mention of her ability in her diary, or otherwise a fearsome reprisal would have been inevitable. Not surprisingly, after what she'd learnt of her mother dropping her at the end of the bed in the belief that she was evil, she found it difficult to confide in her mother in case that set her off again. She’d had some fleeting, intimate contact with a boy at school who reminded her of Danny from kindergarten, but she didn’t trust him or herself sufficiently to allow this to develop any further.  She found that lying about friends and relationships came easily to her and no-one seemed to doubt the veracity of what she told them. Her parents had recently acquired a dog from a patient who’d moved abroad, and Emma discovered she enjoyed spending time in the company of an animal whose trust was implicit and unconditional. And gazing into its deep, dark eyes proved to be an unexpectedly useful way of testing her ability.
     

December 1980
     
     
    The train journey from Guildford to Oxford was fraught because of snow on the line. Emma’s anxieties about the interview and being away from the comparative safety of the village were in danger of going off the scale. Her parents had offered to drive her there, but the thought of her mother ruining everything was too much. Going to Oxford had been something she’d decided on and ultimately she hadn’t allowed her mother a say in the matter. Her mother had been dead against her doing medicine of course – “That’s for boys, you should be a nurse” – but that had just spurred her on. Of course, her father approved, but he never said that openly to her mother.
    Emma actually arrived at St Helena’s with time to spare, as the interview wasn’t until 2:00 p.m. She wandered around the grounds; St Helena’s had a sort of no-nonsense feel to it with solid buildings and acres of land which made her feel more as if she was in the countryside than a city. There was also a sense of purpose in the way that people moved about, which was very different to the way in which classmates at school lounged about aimlessly.
    Emma checked through the literature that she’d been sent in the post and read: “You will be welcomed by a strong, independent, and diverse College with a history of encouraging forceful and individualistic students. The college is committed to encouraging its students to excel, both academically and personally.” Although she couldn’t in all honesty imagine seeing herself as ‘forceful’, ‘individualistic’ seemed fairly apt. But Emma wasn’t sure that she’d be able to convince the college tutors.
    “Now,” said the Tutor for Medicine, “Our next candidate seems promising. She’s expected to get straight ‘A’s and her father is a GP. He didn’t go to Oxford but he sounds a solid enough fellow. And we don’t see many candidates from her school.  Oh, and another thing, in her personal statement she talks about relieving suffering – whatever that means – so we’ll need to ask her more about that.”
    “Please come in, Miss Jones, and have a seat,” said the Admissions Tutor. “My name is Dr Edwards and I’m the Admissions Tutor. This here – he points to the Tutor for Medicine – is Dr Michaels, who’s the medical fellow, and over in the corner we have the Dean, the Rev Bryant.” They all nodded to say hello.
    “May we start by asking you why you chose St Helena’s?” asked Dr Edwards.
    “Well,” said Emma, “there’s part of me that’s quite conservative and respectful of the tradition of an old university like Oxford, but there’s also another side of my character which wants to break the mould and do something different; perhaps that’s the