Chapter 7

Dr Gerry McAllister was a natural flirt. As he passed by Nurse Sophie, he gave her a playful slap on the backside, drawing a giggle from her.

“I’m not wearing any underwear today, doctor,” Sophie teased, her voice light and mischievous as she adjusted her tight blue nurse’s pants, pulling them up and wiggling her bum at him showing off the crack.

“I think I need to put my stethoscope up there,” he grinned, sliding his fingers between her legs.

“Ooooh, yeah...” Sophie cooed, before smirking. “And you’ve got to protect me from the patient coming in. He’s a fucking Frankenstein freak with those stitches across his face!”

She laughed, biting her lip as Gerry’s hands lingered a moment longer.

“Enough,” Gerry said with a smirk, pulling back. “Later,” he winked. “Let’s see this freak first.”

The door had been slightly ajar, and Pembroke, who had been waiting for fifteen minutes, had heard everything. His face burned with fury—not just at the time wasted by their shameless flirting, but at the descriptions of him.

As Pembroke stepped into the room, his anger momentarily gave way to shock. Standing there, smirking with a stethoscope slung around his neck, was the same handsome man he’d seen at the strip club—and the one he’d followed yesterday, meeting his daughter.

“Hi, Edward, I’m Dr. McAllister, and this is my colleague Sophie,” the doctor said smoothly, his charming demeanor unchanged. “Now, let’s get those awful stitches out, shall we?”

Pembroke didn’t say much. He lay down on the examination table with a grunt, his jaw clenched. His eyes, however, drifted away from Dr. McAllister and settled instead on the nurse as she moved around the room. Her tight uniform hugged her figure as she bent over to gather the equipment. His jealousy of the doctor was going to explode.

“Bit old for getting into knife fights, aren’t we, Edward?” joked Dr. McAllister as he worked on Pembroke’s face, his tone light but faintly condescending.

“I was the victim of a crime, actually,” Pembroke replied petulantly, his voice sharp with defensiveness.

“I wonder what you did to deserve it” thought Gerry in to himself. He had read this man’s patient records, he also had suffered previous stabbing injuries in prison.

The work continued in silence, though Pembroke’s attention was drawn to a picture on the far desk. It was a family photograph of the doctor, a blonde woman—his wife—and their brunette daughter. Pembroke recognized the girl from the previous day, the one he had followed. They looked like the picture-perfect family, the wife stunning and radiant, her beauty almost infuriating in its flawlessness.

“There you go, all done,” said Dr. McAllister, smiling as he stepped back. “That’s a nasty scar, but who knows? Maybe women will like it.”

Pembroke caught sight of the nurse stifling a giggle out of the corner of his eye. His outrage flared, but he bit his tongue, his face flushing with humiliation.

After leaving the room, he lingered in the hallway, his ears pricking up as he heard muffled laughter from inside.

“What a freak,” came the nurse’s voice. “I thought I’d collapse from the smell of him.”

“He’s probably been in prison for being a nonce,” the doctor added, his tone dripping with disdain. “God, couldn’t happen to an uglier man. To be honest, the scar improves him.”

The sound of laughter echoed through the door, punctuated by the sharp smack of flesh, then the unmistakable sound of kissing. Pembroke’s fists clenched at his sides, his face burning with fury and shame. With a loud harrumph, he turned and walked away, his footsteps heavy as the bandage on his face absorbed the faint oozing from his freshly removed stitches.

Pembroke walked through the hospital, his footsteps echoing faintly in the corridors. Suddenly, he heard a voice call out, “Dr. McAllister,” and instinctively glanced back, expecting to see the male doctor respond.

To his surprise, it wasn’t the doctor he’d seen earlier. Instead, a blonde woman turned toward the call, and then engaged in conversation with a man in a suit. Pembroke recognized her instantly from the photograph in the doctor’s room. She must be his wife.

She was even more glamorous in person—stunning, with an effortless elegance that turned heads in a short but smart skirt, heels and jacket. Yet, as she spoke with the suited man, she seemed tense, her expression strained. Pembroke lingered for a moment, watching their interaction curiously, noting the contrast between her polished appearance and the stress etched across her face.

Kate was visibly distraught as she spoke with her union representative. She had reluctantly agreed that the best course of action was to make a payment to the teenage girl who had lodged the complaint. Though the representative framed it as a pragmatic solution to make the issue go away, to Kate, it felt like an admission of guilt—people would think she was some sort of child sex predator!

She walked up the stairs, trying to stay positive. “Hopefully, this will make things go away,” she thought, “and I’ll just be more careful in the future.” Her focus was broken when suddenly she heard a sharp “snap” sound, unmistakably that of a phone camera.

She instinctively turned her head, but behind her, Pembroke froze, caught in the act. He had been following her, snapping photos and recording videos up her skirt. The loud shutter sound from his phone sent a jolt of panic through him as he scrambled to shove it into his pocket before she could fully turn around.

Kate spun around, appalled by the sight of the disgusting, fat, old man with bandages across his face, caught red-handed in his vile act. The realization that he had been recording up her skirt filled her with fury.

“You fucking pervert!” she spat, her voice sharp and filled with disgust.

Pembroke’s face drained of color. His mind raced with panic, imagining the consequences. He could go back inside for this, maybe for the rest of his life.

He stammered out a pitiful response under Kate’s searing gaze, his words reeking of desperation.

“I’m so sorry, please, please don’t tell the police! I just ... I had an operation, look,” he pleaded, pointing to the bandage on his face. “I don’t know, maybe it was the stress ... I wasn’t thinking straight. Please, I’ll leave—I’ll go, and I won’t bother you again. Please, have mercy.”

His voice cracked as he spoke, his hunched posture and shaking hands betraying his terror.

Kate weighed her options. This man was clearly a predator, and the thought of what he might do to other vulnerable girls made her retch. She thought of her own daughter, horrified at the idea of someone like this lurking near her. If he was bold enough to do this in a hospital, what might he do elsewhere?

But then, another thought surfaced—reporting this would mean getting involved in yet another ordeal, right after dealing with her own set of allegations. Even if she was the victim this time, it might dredge up everything she desperately wanted to leave behind.

Her jaw tightened, and she fixed Pembroke with an icy glare. “If your operation’s over,” she snapped, her voice sharp and commanding, “then fuck off out of this hospital.”

She watched as the pathetic man fumbled to leave, her disgust outweighing any lingering indecision.

“Fucking bitch!” Pembroke seethed as he stormed out of the hospital. “Cunt!” he spat internally, his humiliation boiling over into rage.

By the time he reached his car, the fear that had gripped him earlier had given way to a simmering fury. “If I ever see her outside, and I think I can get away with it...”

----------- That evening, the McAllister family sat down together for dinner. Kate took a deep breath and explained to Maddie how her troubling claim was finally being resolved. She sighed inwardly, deciding not to mention the unsettling encounter with the tall, overweight man in bandages. She didn’t want to burden her husband or daughter with yet another upsetting incident.

Gerry, for his part, refrained from bringing up the same man, who had come in earlier to have his stitches removed. The thought of mentioning it was complicated—he’d been with Nurse Sophie at the time, the woman he was secretly having an affair with. He certainly didn’t want to bring that into the conversation.

And so, Pembroke didn’t enter their thoughts at all that evening. As the meal went on, the mood gradually lightened. Laughter filled the room, and Maddie felt relieved to see her parents becoming more cheerful. For the first time in weeks, it felt like things were starting to get back to normal.

The next day, Pembroke awoke in his hotel room to a painful, relentless throbbing in his face. Groggily, he sat up, only to notice his pillow was smeared with blood and pus. The dressing had come off. He really shouldn’t have got so drunk last night!

Now, he was paying the price. The thought of returning to the hospital filled him with dread, but he couldn’t avoid it. The dressing needed to be changed, and the risk of infection was too great. Grumbling to himself, he dragged his aching body out of bed and began preparing to face the humiliation of going back.

He nervously asked at the desk of A and E, hoping it would just get treated quickly. But an hour later he was called through and was horrified to be directed to Dr McAllister.

“Hello again, Edward! Were you drinking after I specifically told you not to?” the doctor said cheerfully, wagging his finger in mock disapproval.

Pembroke didn’t respond much, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. He was too embarrassed—about the dressing coming off, the alcohol still lingering in his system, and the prospect of being chastised by this overly friendly doctor once again. But above all, his attention was fixed on the family photo across the room. The blonde woman in the picture, the one he’d humiliated himself in front of the day before.

As the consultation continued and the doctor remained lighthearted and cheerful, Pembroke began to relax, if only slightly. Maybe his wife hadn’t mentioned it to him after all, he thought, a flicker of relief starting to push through his unease.

The doctor struck up a conversation with the nurse Sophie, who seemed to hang on his every word.

“ ... Yeah, so on Tuesday, Kate and I are taking Maddie on a two-week hiking trip through the Highlands,” he said, his tone warm and animated. “The wilderness, the fresh air—it’ll be good to get out into nature. Just the car and the campervan, no distractions. I’m sure Maddie will love it. She needs to open up a bit ... so shy, so scared sometimes...”

Pembroke, hearing the exchange, couldn’t help but stiffen, his ears tuned to every word. He was imagining the doctor’s wife and daughter out in the open, far from civilisation, vulnerable, alone ... Meanwhile nurse Sophie was also brimming with a different sort of jealousy over the doctor’s wife Kate, a woman she despised and hated. She wished Gerry’s family would just disappear so she could have him for herself.

“Have to pick Maddie up after hockey practice this evening,” Gerry mentioned casually to Sophie as he dabbed at Pembroke’s face.

“Oh ... why not let her wait a little while?” Sophie teased

“Hmmm, it’s pretty dangerous. It gets dark early, and those pitches are isolated. She’ll be all by herself,” Gerry replied, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

“Come on, Gerry,” Sophie said with a playful grin. “She’s going to be in the Highlands for two weeks—she needs to get used to being by herself for a bit. Letting her wait twenty minutes isn’t going to harm her. It’s a safe area—no estates or anything sketchy around there...”

She leaned in closer, smirking. “Besides, she has you for two whole weeks. I only get you for twenty minutes.” Sophie giggled as she brushed her hand against his arm.

Pembroke sat silently, feeling a swell of rage at the lack of professionalism. “They don’t even care I’m here,” he thought bitterly. “I’m nothing to them. Just a joke.”

But another thought soon overtook his anger. The mention of the holiday intrigued him, yes, but what truly caught his attention was the detail about little Maddie waiting alone by the hockey pitches that evening, presumably near her school.

He lingered in the room, listening carefully as the conversation shifted. “OK, I’ll pick her up at seven-twenty. I’ll just tell Maddie I got stuck in traffic for twenty minutes” Gerry laughed.

Pembroke smiled grimly as he left the hospital, his fresh dressing itching against his face. Fuck it, why not take a look, much more interesting than doing another tourist pub crawl, he thought.

Maddie stood by the shelter near the hockey pitches, her black-and-white uniform fluttering slightly in the evening breeze. Her skirt and t-shirt offered little protection against the cold, and she pressed her knees together for warmth, clutching her hockey gear tightly. Her brown hair waved in the wind as she scanned the darkening surroundings with a cheerful patience.

“Sure you don’t want a lift, Maddie?” Susan’s mother called from her car, her voice kind but concerned.

“No, don’t worry, my father’s coming soon,” Maddie replied brightly, flashing a polite smile.

With a small wave, Susan climbed into the car with her mum, and the two drove off, their taillights disappearing into the distance. Maddie was left alone now, the last girl standing by the deserted pitches. She glanced at her phone, still confident her father wouldn’t be long.

A car pulled up, its headlights cutting through the growing darkness around the deserted hockey pitches. Maddie smiled with relief—she had started to feel a little worried. But the smile quickly faded as she realized it wasn’t her father’s car.

It rolled up slowly, stopping directly in front of her. Maddie’s grip on her hockey gear tightened, a faint unease creeping over her as she stared at the car, unsure of what to do.

A man stepped out, unfolding himself slowly, his enormous frame looming taller and broader with every movement. He was even bigger than her father—taller, fatter—his bare belly hanging out from beneath an oversized, ill-fitting t-shirt. He wore cheap tracksuit bottoms and scuffed trainers.

But it was his face that left her utterly disoriented. Layers of fat jowls and a bald head were partially obscured by a swathe of bandages, giving him an almost monstrous appearance. Maddie stared, completely taken aback, unable to process what was happening or how to react.

“Oh, hello Maddie,” Pembroke said, his English accent disarmingly friendly. “Fancy seeing you here. How was hockey practice?”

Maddie blinked, still taken aback. “Erm ... sorry, I don’t remember you,” she said cautiously, clutching her gear a little tighter.

“Oh, you were only a wee girl back then, I suppose,” he replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now look at you—all big and grown up.”

“Erm ... thanks, I guess,” Maddie mumbled, her unease growing.

Pembroke watched her closely, testing the water. She seemed meek, timid—just as he had hoped. So far, so good. He decided to push further.

“Do you mind if I wait for your daddy with you?” he asked, keeping his tone light and casual.

“Wh—why?” Maddie stammered, her confusion evident. “Do you ... know Daddy?” She was so confused, what was going on, where was her father? He should be here by now.

“Oh ... yes,” Pembroke said, his smile widening as he leaned slightly closer. “You know, your daddy likes to have fun, doesn’t he? Hehe, he’s a bit naughty.”

Maddie’s brow furrowed, her unease deepening, but before she could respond, he continued.

“Maybe ... maybe he’s a bit naughty with you too, though?”

Her body froze. She finally managed to take a step back, her grip on her hockey stick tightening as her instincts screamed that something was very, very wrong.

“You see,” Pembroke said, his voice taking on a mocking, sinister edge, “your daddy likes to see girls like you dance ... in naughty clubs. Some of them dress just like you, then take their clothes off for him. Yes ... very naughty indeed.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head as if scolding her, his mocking tone dripping with malice.

He took a deliberate step closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. His heart raced with elation as he saw her reaction—she just stood there, frozen in place, her large, frightened eyes staring up at him. She didn’t say a word, didn’t move, offering no resistance or retort.

“Hmm—he ... he’s coming soon,” Maddie stammered in a small, shaky voice, her body visibly trembling now.

“Oh, I know he is,” Pembroke said with a slow, unsettling smile. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. “That’s a nice outfit. You look very pretty in it.”

“Th-thanks,” Maddie stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She forced a weak smile, trying desperately to make herself believe this was a normal conversation.

Inside, she was praying he would leave her alone, her mind racing with fear and self-recrimination. Why can’t I do something? she thought. Scream, run, hit him—anything! But her body refused to move, paralyzed by the weight of his presence and the terror he exuded.

“What you got there?” Pembroke asked, pointing toward a spot between her legs.

Maddie blinked in confusion, her grip tightening on her hockey stick. “Erm ... what? It’s my hockey stick,” she said hesitantly, unsure what he meant.

“Best put that down, Maddie,” he said cheerfully. “But I wasn’t talking about that. I meant what you’re wearing there.”

She hesitated, her brow furrowing. “It’s—it’s my skirt,” she replied, unsure of where this was going, though a knot of dread was already forming in her stomach.

“Haha!” he bellowed, his laughter echoing in the empty space around them. His belly shook under his too-small t-shirt, the hairy, flabby skin spilling out over the waistband of his ill-fitting tracksuit bottoms. The grotesque sight made Maddie’s stomach churn.

“No, silly,” he said, his laughter stopping abruptly as his tone turned serious. “I mean, what do you have under your skirt? I can’t see.”

Maddie’s eyes widened, her mind blank. “Bu-but you’re not supposed to see...” she stammered, her voice barely audible.

“That’s not very fair, is it?” Pembroke said grimly, his expression darkening. “What are you hiding? Maybe you and your family are up to something bad, and you’re trying to keep it a secret. Is that it?”

“What? I— you don’t make sense...” Maddie mumbled, her words tumbling out in a rush as her mind raced a mile a minute.

“It’s OK, I’m a doctor too,” Pembroke said suddenly, his tone shifting to something unnervingly friendly. “I’m just curious, and a little concerned about it. Trust me, your daddy sees girls in their underpants all the time—for fun and for work—and so do I. It’s normal!”

He sighed, adopting a faux-professional demeanor, as if he were discussing something routine. “Now, please, just roll up your skirt and let me have a quick peek. I’ve just got to see, that’s all,” he added, as though this were a harmless medical matter.

Maddie stared at him. The absurdity and wrongness of his request made her head spin, but his calm, practiced tone added to her confusion and fear.

“Good girl,” Pembroke said softly, his smile widening as he leaned in slightly. “Now come on, lift that skirt up, all the way to your waist.”

This was always the critical moment, the point where he could tell if he had chosen his target well. There were times when the girls would scream and run, but if he got past this stage, he knew he had struck gold—someone too timid, too afraid of upsetting him, and too conditioned to be polite and compliant.

Maddie told herself her father would be here soon, and then this would be over. Until then she would just ... do what he said. After all, he wasn’t doing anything ... yet. His polite tone even made it seem ... OK.

She gingerly pulled at the skrit of her hockey skirt, looking down, avoiding his eyes, and pulled it slowly up. Pembroke’s eyes greedily drank in the opening up of the flesh of he upper thighs as the material went higher, higher, then her thighs met in a gap covered by some white tight sports knickers.