The Pharmacist

Rachel’s years at university were relatively good ones, second only to those brief childhood years with Jenny, the only time in her life when she’d been truly happy. Getting away from home and her overbearing parents was a relief, and Rachel felt she could finally be herself without constant interference.

Four years of studies, on which she’d thrived, resulted in an excellent degree for her trouble and presented several career opportunities for the future. Initially, medical research appealed to Rachel. The continual study and academic challenge would suit her drive, but the road to the top was lengthy and tedious, and working as a team member didn’t suit her personality.

Rachel’s need to be in charge led to a change of her previous ambitions and the idea of owning a pharmacy became the ultimate goal. However, working with another pharmacist to learn the ropes was expected, so Rachel acted as an assistant in an established pharmacy for four years – a place from which she couldn’t wait to escape. At twenty-six, Rachel was frustrated, both in her career and the relationship with her parents – her plans didn’t move on as quickly as she wished.

The one thing that was not a viable option after university and Rachel determined never to do was to return to Matlock. However, the position she’d secured in Chesterfield proved, geographically, still too close to her parents for her liking. Despite the proximity, Rachel ensured there was always an excuse not to visit her parents.

After work, Rachel rarely went out on an evening, content to stay in her own space, with her books and plans for the future. Living frugally and saving every spare penny she earned brought her dream closer, and seeking a pharmacy of her own, as far away from Matlock as possible, occupied much of her spare time.

Although Rachel didn’t generally enjoy the company of other human beings, even she had needs and occasionally ventured out to satisfy them. The bar in Chesterfield wasn’t the usual sort of place she frequented, but her visit was for a purpose, and that was to find a man. Not for a relationship – that was always made clear – but simply to fulfil her primal need for sex.

Rachel rarely experienced trouble in picking up a man and her requirements were purely physical. If there was no relationship to follow, intelligence didn’t come into the equation; a good looking, presentable man with a clean, toned body was the only stipulation.

Rachel spotted him at the bar the moment she entered. He was tall, and being tall herself this was an attribute she appreciated. Broad, muscular shoulders and a pleasing face interested her as she approached him with the confidence of a woman aware of her own physical attractions. It wouldn’t take long for her to assess whether he would fit the bill. At a guess, the man was around eight or nine years older than her and it took only a few minutes for Rachel to decide that he was suitable. Strangely, his eyes drew her, steel blue with a haunted look, intriguing and mysterious. As he appeared to be the strong, silent type, all the better, Rachel turned on the charm so rarely displayed, and the evening was decided.

Reluctantly, she took him back to her flat, it was safer than going anywhere he might suggest, and she baulked at paying for a hotel room; every spare penny was reserved for her future plans.

The sex was urgent and quick. She had no desire for any foreplay or tenderness; the man was simply there to satisfy a need. Afterwards, he fell instantly asleep in her bed and Rachel left him alone while she took a shower.

When she returned to the bedroom, the still sleeping man was restless. His body was bathed in sweat, and he writhed as if in pain, wrestling with the throes of a nightmare. Rachel looked at his naked body and felt only annoyance at his presence. Suddenly wanting him gone from her flat, she woke him to discover tears in his eyes. But his apparent torment evoked nothing in her except revulsion. She despised weakness and felt not the slightest compassion or curiosity as to the reason for his distress. If Rachel had shown even the slightest degree of sympathy, the tormented man might have opened up and unburdened himself, but she cared little for other people’s needs. She was driven only by her own.

* * *

He was a troubled soul. The haunted look in his eyes, which had initially attracted Rachel, now seemed disturbing. If he had the chance to confide the subject of his nightmare, Rachel would have learned of a recurring dream – of an event from his youth for which he was deeply ashamed.

During his regular bouts of fitful sleep, the man relived a time when he was behind the wheel of a van and losing control. He was confronted time and time again by the horrific scene of a car forced over the edge of an incline – caused by his stupidity – and the unforgettable sound of the explosion a few moments afterwards.

There was no doubt in his mind that he alone was culpable for the resulting carnage, and the images, indelibly seared on his brain, served as a constant and never-ending reminder of his cowardice at fleeing the scene. He lived with the knowledge that there would never be a way to absolve himself from the guilt which haunted him each day. He was responsible for the death of four people, two of them children. The recurring dream was a regular and disturbing recollection of the lowest point of his life – his nadir – and of his deep, abiding shame.

But Rachel asked the man to leave without learning of his torment, of his bitter regrets. He’d been used simply to satisfy a need. She was without the slightest desire for the intimacy of allowing him to sleep in her bed for the night and held no wish to converse with him on any level or share personal details about their respective lives.

They were both consenting adults. He’d been a willing participant. The pair, however, were also carelessly ignorant of the new life they created that night.

By the time Rachel realised she was pregnant, the man, whose name she’d almost instantly forgotten, was long gone, and there was no question of telling him about the pregnancy. Since the night Millie was conceived, Rachel hadn’t seen him, which suited her fine; there was no room or desire in her life for a permanent relationship.