I'll learn to dance in the rain [korrasami]

2

Asami

"What's a pretty girl like you going to a hospital for?"

I look up from my phone and see the driver's eyes staring at me from the rearview mirror at the front. "It's my first day of working there Sir."

"Is it?" His eyes snap towards the road again and we turn a corner.

"Yes, I'm a oncologist." I watch his expression change in the mirror from the back of the taxi.

"Oh.." Was all that the driver mutters. "Well, good luck."

When I tell people what my job is, they always give me the same look. Why the hell would someone do such a job? As an oncologist, it's not always an easy answer. From when my mom was sick, the oncologist that worked with her was able to make it bearable for all of us. My mom thought her world had ended right there and then when we were told the news, I did so too for a long time. But I remember how quickly the consultant was able to put her at ease and by establishing a good rapport, was able to give hope and reassurance until her last minutes. I knew then that the career that I wanted to pursuit would be challenging but extremely rewarding.

Getting to where I am now, fleeing New York, wasn't exactly what my younger self would've imagined. But what are you supposed to do when your mom gets sick and your dad turns out to be a fraud? Though I've only been in London for a few months, it's better here- for the most part.

My purse acts as an umbrella when I step out into the rain and the driver is already telling me how much I owe him for the ride from my flat. I wrap my coat tighter around me, hiding my uniform but at least I'm a little warmer now.

I've always known that a London black cab would be expensive. Taking a step into one would cost you a five pound note at most. Perhaps I should've taken the bus. I toss the driver the money he wanted before closing the door and watching him drive away. He only makes it a few yards before plunging into the morning rush traffic. I can see him ranting and raving through the window from where I am. Serves him right, he was rather rude.

When I turn, the hosptial stands. St George's Hospital no doubt. It's bigger than what I imagined it would be. It's been two months since I moved and settled into my London flat, and I can already hear the different vocabulary from the people passing by. When I step through the revolving doors the metallic tang from stainless steel in the open air hits me immediately.

I'm not unfamiliar to the smell or the amount of people there can be in the morning. Most of these people are probably here for a check up, there's an old man that hobbles past me with his left hand in a cast and I'm already thinking about all the scenarios that could've caused that. A tumble down the stairs or possibly a minor hit on a door frame? I've heard many bizzare stories in my journeys.

I reach the desk at the front and all of the receptionists are typing away, apart from one. With a small wave, I catch her attention immediately and she flashes me a wide smile. "Hi, how can I help you?" I recognise her voice.

"Hey, I'm Asami Sato. I think I spoke to you on the phone yesterday."

"Oh yes I remember. You're the new oncology nurse aren't you?"

I smile. "That's me."

"Great, it's nice to see you. I'll give the consultant a call and she'll be with you shortly." She says. "You can take a seat in the cafe if you'd like, I'll shout you."

"Thank you..." I take a look at the badge attached to her front pocket. "Zhu Li."

After a few moments I find myself in one of the coffee shops in the centre and I'm ordering myself a caramel latte. The person behind the counter tells me it'll be a couple minutes so I stand to the side and wait. With my phone in my hand, I busy myself with answering Ginger's text from earlier.