(2013) Looks Could Kill Read Online Free Page B

‘individualistic’ quality which St Helena’s is well known for. I’m also a keen musician and would love to play in the new music building.”
    “I think we’ve got ourselves a musical firebrand here,” joked the Dean. The others laughed. Emma stared very pointedly at him.
    “Actually, I think my music is more likely to put out a fire than start one,” retorted Emma.
    “Very good,” said Dr Michaels. “Now, why have you chosen medicine?”
    “Well, my father’s a GP,” said Emma, “although I think I’m more interested in complex cases that need careful thought – not really run-of-the-mill general practice. And there’s something that appeals about helping people to understand their illnesses and therefore cope with them better.”
    “You mention ‘relieving suffering’ in your personal statement,” said the Dean. “Can you expand on that for us?”
    “Well, I think suffering is more complicated than just pain. People suffer if they have to take too many tablets. People suffer if they have procedures they don’t really need. And people suffer if their illnesses are beyond the scope of treatments available. So, I suppose my aim would be to help people move away from suffering to somewhere where there’s a degree of resolution.”
    “Well, that’s very interesting,” said the Dean, “and as a religious man, I can see a lot of Christian value in what you say. It sounds as if you’ve done a lot of thinking, which is unusual for someone so young.”
    “I suppose I’ve seen my fair share of suffering,” said Emma. “My aunt died from cancer last year…” She turned her face away and wiped away a tear.
    “Thank you very much, Miss Jones,” said the Admissions Tutor, embarrassed by her emotional display. “I think that’s everything we need to ask you. Do you have any questions for us, I wonder?”
    “My mother told me to ask whether the food in hall is any good,” said Emma, now fully recovered.
    All three of them laughed.
    “Actually, the food isn’t bad,” said the Dean, “although it’s not exactly cordon bleu.” They all laughed and Emma left the room after thanking them and saying goodbye.
    “Impressive, I thought,” said the Admissions Tutor, “she really held her own, and she’s obviously a thinker.”
    “I agree,” said the Tutor for Medicine. “And her ideas about illness were remarkable for someone still at school.”
    “I’d have to concur,” said the Dean. “But I felt something really quite strange when she looked at me – quite unnerving really.”
    “So, we’re agreed that Miss Jones should be offered a place for next year?” said the Admissions Tutor.  The other two nodded. “Excellent,” he said.
    Emma thought the interview had gone quite well. Despite her nerves, she felt in control. Staring at the pompous Dean hadn’t been sensible though. But she pulled things back with the small fib about her aunt. Emma wasn’t really much of a musician either. And there’s no way that her mother would ever inquire about college food.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

March 1981
     
     
    Back at school, Emma found that teachers took more notice of her now that she had the offer from St Helena’s. Studying for her ‘A’ levels almost seemed an irrelevance, although she realised that she wouldn’t be going anywhere unless she achieved the two As and a B that St Helena’s had requested. She felt that some broadening of her horizons before going up might help, so she offered to do some voluntary work in a nursing home.
    There was one particular home that Emma visited which was conveniently located near her school. She’d been welcomed with open arms when they knew she was a daughter of a local GP and planned to study medicine. So, once a week, during a free afternoon, Emma would visit at tea time and go around talking to the residents.
    Emma had her favourites: Mr Thomas with his ready smile and penchant for a joke; Mrs