Читать книгу The Doctor's Christmas Gift - Jennifer Taylor - Страница 8

VULNERABLE.

On the surface, it wasn’t a word that should have applied to the woman seated in front of Catherine’s desk. However, it had been on her mind so much in the past weeks that she wasn’t surprised when it occurred to her now.

It was the Wednesday of her first week at Brookdale Surgery and she was halfway through morning surgery. Maybe it had been silly to have let Matthew Fielding’s comment spur her into taking the job but so far it seemed to be working out extremely well. She had slotted into the new post with surprisingly little trouble. Of course, the fact that the staff at the surgery had been so welcoming had helped enormously. Everyone, from Ann Talbot, their practice nurse, to the two receptionists, Margaret Price and Sharon Goody, had gone out of their way to help her settle in.

As for Matthew, well, he had been nothing less than professional in his dealings with her these past few days. He had been friendly but circumspect, helpful but not overly familiar in their exchanges to date. There certainly hadn’t been any more offers to share coffee and omelettes, she’d been pleased to note! Catherine was determined their relationship would continue like that. She’d come to Brookdale Surgery to do a job and nothing else.

‘So, apart from these dizzy spells, have you experienced any other symptoms, Mrs Hoskins?’

Catherine briskly returned her attention to her patient. Lauren Hoskins was in her thirties, an attractive, well-dressed woman who worked in advertising. The address on Lauren’s records was in a road which had become highly sought-after in the past few years. A lot of wealthy couples had chosen to purchase the large Edwardian properties and refurbish them. However, despite such material advantages, Lauren exuded a strange aura of vulnerability. Catherine very much wanted to get to the root of her problems but so far had met with little success.

‘Not really.’ Lauren smiled wanly. ‘Should I have had other symptoms, Dr Lewis?’

‘Not at all,’ Catherine replied evenly. ‘As I’m not sure yet what is wrong with you, it certainly isn’t possible to say how you should or shouldn’t feel.’

She turned to the computer and checked through the woman’s medical history again. Lauren Hoskins had visited the surgery no less than five times in the past three months, each time complaining of dizziness. She had seen Glenda Williams each time and Catherine couldn’t fault the other doctor’s thoroughness as she ran through the list of tests that Lauren had undergone.

‘Looking through your records, it appears that you’ve been tested for diabetes and high blood pressure. You’ve been for an MRI scan to rule out any problems within the brain, like subdural bleeding, for instance.’ Catherine ran her finger down the list, checking off each test and its conclusion. ‘Dr Williams has eliminated labyrinthitis, which is often a cause of dizziness, because there was no sign of inflammation in your inner ears. She has also discounted Ménière’s disease because you’ve not experienced any deafness or tinnitus—that ringing in the ears which is symptomatic of the disease. You’ve also had three pregnancy tests and all have proved negative.’

Catherine glanced at the woman as she came to the end of the list and noticed how Lauren had quickly averted her eyes. Had it been the mention of the pregnancy tests which had caused that reaction? she found herself wondering.

She picked up a pen and pretended to jot down some notes while she gave herself time to think. Maybe that was the cause of Lauren’s frequent visits to the surgery, the fact that she and her husband had been trying—unsuccessfully—to have a baby? The stress of not conceiving could certainly cause physical symptoms such as dizziness. However, if that were the case, then why was Lauren so reluctant to talk about the problem and seek help? Catherine decided to tread carefully rather than ask her outright.

‘I think another pregnancy test would be in order today just to rule out that possibility again.’ She took a sample jar out of the drawer and passed it across the desk but Lauren shook her head.

‘I’m not pregnant, Dr Lewis. I…I know that for a fact.’

‘I see.’ Catherine sat back in her chair and studied her quietly. ‘Are you and your husband trying for a baby by any chance?’

‘No!’ Lauren laughed bitterly. ‘A baby’s the last thing we need at the moment.’ She made an obvious effort to collect herself. ‘Anyway, that really has nothing to do with why I came today. I just thought—hoped—that you might be able to shed some light on these dizzy spells I keep having all the time.’

‘I wish I could. However, it does appear that you’ve had all the tests available, which seems to suggest that the problem isn’t anything physical.’ Catherine chose her words with care. ‘Stress can often be a major contributing factor in a situation like this, Mrs Hoskins. Is there anything worrying you at the moment? Maybe something stressful happening at work or a situation at home which needs resolving?’

‘No, of course not! Everything is fine…perfectly fine, both at work and at home! It’s just these dizzy spells. That’s all.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘Anyway, I won’t waste any more of your time, Dr Lewis. Thank you for seeing me. Good day.’

Catherine hurriedly got up and followed her to the door. Despite what Lauren had said, she sensed there was something very wrong. ‘Please, don’t rush off, Mrs Hoskins. I’d really like to try and get to the bottom of this problem.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Dr Lewis. As you said, I’ve had all the tests available so there doesn’t seem much else you can do.’

She quickly left the room. Catherine frowned as she watched her hurrying along the corridor. She couldn’t help wondering if she should go after her. It was disquieting to have provoked such a reaction from a patient…

‘Problems?’

Matthew had come out of his consulting room and paused when he saw her standing in the corridor. Catherine shrugged, trying to ignore the surge her pulse gave. He had been already hard at work when she had arrived that morning so it was the first she’d seen of him that day. She couldn’t help thinking how well the blue of his shirt set off the colour of his eyes, making them sparkle like sapphires.

She hurriedly chased away that fanciful thought before it could take hold. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘You’re not sure?’ Matthew grinned. ‘Oh, wow, that must be a first!’

Catherine stared at him in bewilderment. ‘What do you mean?’

‘That I never thought I’d hear you admit there was anything you weren’t sure about.’ His eyes danced with laughter, making her long to smile back. She managed to curb the urge but it was a struggle all the same.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she retorted, turning to go back into her room.

‘Don’t you?’ Matthew followed her inside and propped himself against the doorjamb as he treated her to a considering look. ‘So the fact that you’ve not made any attempt to ask my advice isn’t an indication that you prefer to go it alone in the face of whatever adversity?’

His tone couldn’t possibly have caused offence, but Catherine knew that he was still making a point. She hadn’t made any attempt to seek him out even though there had been several occasions when maybe she could have done with his help. Oh, not that there had been anything that she hadn’t been able to deal with, of course, but there had been a couple of instances when it would have been helpful to supplement a patient’s history with a bit more background information.

It was galling to admit that she had allowed her personal feelings to influence her to such a degree. It had never happened before and she couldn’t understand why it had happened now. It was difficult to keep the worry out of her voice when she replied.

‘Everything has been fairly straightforward so far.’

‘I see. So it wasn’t because you were afraid to ask my advice, then?’

‘Afraid?’

Her heart surged into her throat as that remark he’d made about her being vulnerable sprang to mind again. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much. Maybe it was this feeling she had that Matthew could see more than she wanted him to that troubled her. To the world at large she had always presented such a confident front yet she knew that underneath it she wasn’t really like that. Inside there was someone completely different, a woman who had fears and uncertainties she had never told anyone about. Did Matthew suspect that? It was that question which worried her most of all.

‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘I’d hate to think that I came across as unapproachable so if you have a problem, please, don’t be afraid to ask my advice. If there is any way that I can help you, Catherine, then you only have to say the word.’

He grinned. ‘Although I’m not trying to set myself up as some sort of oracle, you understand, or claim that I have all the answers. There is a hidden agenda to that offer. It means that I can pick your brains whenever I need help!’

Catherine felt an immediate rush of relief when she realised that she had completely misread the situation. Matthew was simply trying to promote a closer working relationship, not trying to uncover her innermost secrets.

She smiled back, feeling the tension oozing out of her. ‘The old two heads are better than one theory?’ She laughed when he nodded. ‘Well, I’m a firm believer in it, too, so I’ll take you up on your offer straight away. What do you know about Lauren Hoskins? I know she’s Glenda’s patient but has Glenda ever mentioned her?’

‘She has, actually. She had a word with me the last time Lauren came to see her because she, too, was puzzled. Evidently, Lauren has had every test under the sun and they’ve all come back negative.’

‘That’s right.’

Catherine turned to the computer so she could check through the patient’s case history once more. She started nervously when Matthew suddenly appeared at her side and bent to look over her shoulder. He was so close that she could smell the faint aroma of soap which clung to his skin as well as another scent she couldn’t quite identify. Her brow furrowed as she tried to work out what it was…

‘Baby powder.’

She didn’t realise she’d spoken out loud until Matthew looked enquiringly at her. Catherine felt the blush sweep up her face until it felt as though even the roots of her hair must have been glowing.

‘Sorry? What did you say?’

‘I…um. Nothing.’ She managed the weakest of smiles then quickly averted her eyes, focusing on the computer screen as she began to scroll through the list of tests Lauren Hoskins had undergone in the past few months.

‘Blood pressure, three times. Diabetes. MRI.’ There was the faintest wobble in her voice but she was certain that Matthew wouldn’t notice it. He really didn’t know her well enough to pick up on something like that. Her confidence returned as he kept his eyes—and his attention—firmly fixed on the screen, seemingly as intrigued as she was by the mystery of why Lauren should be experiencing those dizzy spells all the time.

‘Well, it’s got me foxed and I don’t mind admitting it,’ he declared as they came to the end of Lauren’s notes. He straightened and Catherine shivered when she was suddenly deprived of the warmth from his body.

Matthew must have noticed her reaction because he frowned. ‘If you’re cold, turn on the fire. Here, let me do it for you. It can be a bit tricky until you get the knack of lighting the wretched thing.’

He went to the grate to light the old-fashioned gas fire. Catherine looked away as her pulse performed the oddest manoeuvre when she saw how the muscles in his thighs bunched as he crouched down to put a match to the jets. They ignited with a small pop and he quickly adjusted the flames before he stood up.

‘It gets really chilly in these rooms with them having such high ceilings,’ he observed, dropping the spent match into a misshapen pottery ashtray on the end of the mantelpiece. ‘That’s why we decided to keep the gas fires when we refurbished the place. Central heating is fine in a modern house but you need a bit of extra heat in these rooms.’

‘Yes, I suppose you do,’ Catherine replied, struggling to keep any inflection out of her voice. It bothered her that she seemed to notice things about Matthew which she had never been aware of before. When was the last time that she had noticed something like thigh muscles? she thought wonderingly. Probably in anatomy class, the answer came back. And that had been entirely different!

She took a small breath, fighting the feeling of panic which seemed to be closing in on her. She had to deal with this before it got any worse. So Matthew Fielding was a very attractive man, but she had met other attractive men in the past and she would meet many more in the future. She just had to put him into that context.

She wasn’t sure if that bit of homespun wisdom would have an effect but it seemed safer to hope that it would. It also seemed safer to steer the conversation back to what they had been talking about before she had got sidetracked.

‘To get back to Lauren Hoskins,’ she said, pleased to hear how calm she sounded, a world away from how she really felt. ‘Is there anything we might have missed, d’you think?’

‘It’s possible. Let’s go back through everything we know so that we can eliminate all the possibilities one more time.’

Matthew came and sat on the edge of her desk, looking thoughtful as he set his mind to solving the problem. Catherine joined in with relief, feeling easier now that they were concentrating on work. She began listing, and discounting, all the possible causes for Lauren’s dizzy spells.

‘Blood pressure is fine and her ECG results were excellent. No sign of diabetes or inner ear infections either.’

‘She didn’t mention anything about feeling sick or vomiting, or that she had trouble with her balance?’ Matthew put in.

‘Vertigo, you mean?’ Catherine shook her head. ‘No, I checked that. And there’s been no noises in her ears or deafness so we can discount Ménière’s. I also checked if the dizzy spells coincided with her menstrual cycle, but they don’t. A lot of women get light-headed just before or during menstruation because of hormonal changes.’

‘Mmm. I noticed that she’s had several pregnancy tests so I assume we can rule out that possibility, too?’ Matthew queried.

‘Yes. Actually, I offered to do another test today but Lauren was adamant that she couldn’t be pregnant.’

Catherine wondered if she should mention the idea she’d had that it might be Lauren’s failure to conceive which was causing the problem. She had nothing to base the suspicion on, especially when Lauren had been so quick to deny it, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that it might hold the key to the woman’s problems.

‘What? I can see that you’ve thought of something.’ Matthew laughed when she looked at him in surprise. ‘No, I’m not psychic. You get a sort of broody look on your face whenever something is bothering you!’

Catherine forced herself to smile but the comment had startled her. She had never realised that her expression was so revealing. Unless it was just that Matthew noticed things that other people missed.

The idea unnerved her and she rushed to speak. ‘Lauren seemed to get very defensive when I suggested she might be pregnant. I did wonder if there was a problem in that area and if maybe she and her husband had been trying for a baby but not had much success.’

‘It’s certainly a possibility,’ Matthew agreed. ‘When you say defensive, though, what do you mean exactly?’

‘Oh, just that she denied they were trying for a baby and said that it was the last thing they needed at the moment. I can’t explain why it struck me as odd but it did.’

Catherine frowned as she tried to work it out. She heard Matthew sigh and looked at him expectantly. ‘What?’

‘Just that it isn’t easy to help people when they won’t tell you what’s really wrong. It’s one of the curses of working in a middle-class area like this. People can’t bear anyone to think that their lives aren’t perfect. They seem to see it as some sort of failing on their part, as though they have a duty to maintain the right image.’

Catherine shrugged, more than a little surprised by the observation. ‘Most people tend to be like that, surely. They put up a front.’

‘To a degree, yes. However, in an area like this, where image and status are so important, it can be a real problem. Maybe Lauren can’t have children. Maybe her husband doesn’t want them. Who knows? When your life seems perfect to all intents and purposes, you tend to paper over the cracks—hide the bad bits to keep up appearances in front of your friends.’ He shrugged. ‘The problem is that the bad bits have a way of revealing themselves one way or another.’

‘And Lauren’s dizzy spells could be an outlet for what is going wrong in her life?’ Catherine nodded thoughtfully as she considered that possibility. In a way, it was only what she had been wondering, although Matthew had put a slightly different spin on the idea.

‘Yes. If there is no physical cause for her illness then we should try to find a psychological cause.’

‘I did think of that. I asked Lauren if there was anything worrying her but once again I have to use that same word and say that she became extremely defensive.’ Catherine shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to do for the best. What about her husband? Do you know anything about him?’

‘Not a lot. I’ve only met him once when they registered with us. He came in for a new-patient check-up.’ Matthew shrugged. ‘He seemed a pleasant enough chap, a bit full of himself but that’s nothing unusual in his line of work.’

‘What does he do? I imagine it’s something quite high-powered.’

‘Peter makes documentaries for television, I believe. I know he was telling me about something he was working on, but I don’t recall it ever being broadcast. Although I’m not the best person to ask when it comes to intellectual programmes.’

He grinned. ‘My viewing tends to consist mainly of children’s programmes. I’m a whiz when it comes to the latest cartoons. I reckon I could win top prize on one of those game shows so long as my specialist subject was the latest cartoon hero to hit the screens!’

Catherine couldn’t help laughing. ‘A talent like that should be nurtured. Not everyone your age could make such a claim.’

‘Don’t!’ He winced. ‘I have a birthday coming up and I’m rather sensitive when it comes to the subject of age.’

It was obvious that he didn’t mean a word of it and why should he? she thought, taking stock of his muscular physique. Matthew was in his prime and many men his age—and younger—would be delighted to be in such excellent shape.

She looked away when she realised where her mind was wandering again. She could hardly believe it had happened a second time. ‘On the surface, then, they seem to be a couple who have everything going for them,’ she observed, deciding it was safer to stick to work.

‘On the surface, yes. But you know as well as I do that it’s impossible to judge by appearances.’ Matthew frowned. ‘I remember Glenda saying one time after Lauren had been to see her that she felt that there was something the woman wasn’t telling her.’

‘I got that impression, too. How strange. I had this feeling that she wanted to tell me what was wrong but that she was…well, afraid to do so.’ Catherine sighed. ‘I shouldn’t have let her rush off like that, should I?’

‘You couldn’t have stopped her,’ he protested, then stopped as Margaret, one of the receptionists, popped her head round the door.

‘I hate to disturb you, Matt, but there’s a queue outside.’ She shot a pointed look at her watch. ‘Your eleven o’clock appointment has arrived and your eleven-fifteen…’

‘OK. I can take a hint!’ Matthew laughed as he got up. ‘Anyway, you can blame Catherine this time, not me. She’s the culprit.’

‘Me?’ Catherine echoed in astonishment.

‘Uh-huh. I was so fascinated by our conversation that I didn’t realise so much time had elapsed. Ergo, it’s all your fault!’

He gave her a decidedly wicked smile then sauntered out of the room. Catherine hurried to explain when she saw the speculation on Margaret’s face. It was obvious the other woman had completely misunderstood Matt’s remark.

‘Matt…Dr Fielding…meant he was fascinated by a case we’ve been discussing,’ she gabbled, her tongue tripping over itself in her haste to set matters straight.

‘Of course, Dr Lewis.’

Margaret’s tone was so bland that the words conveyed exactly the opposite meaning they should have done. Catherine felt heat suffuse her when she realised that the receptionist didn’t believe a word she’d said. Did Margaret think that Matt had been wasting his time chatting her up instead of seeing to his patients?

It was on the tip of her tongue to assure Margaret that wasn’t the case when she suddenly thought better of it. Wasn’t there a saying about protesting too much?

‘I’ll send in your next patient, then, shall I, Dr Lewis?’ Margaret asked in the same bland tone.

Catherine nodded because it seemed an awful lot safer. No protestations would pass her lips, no explanations, nothing. She wasn’t going to give the staff at the surgery anything to gossip about!

‘Has she gone?’ Matt glanced furtively along the corridor as he sidled back into her room. He treated Catherine to a conspiratorial smile. ‘I should have warned you that Margaret is a real termagant when it comes to her beloved appointment system. You dice with death if you mess it up! Anyway, I daren’t risk getting in her bad books again so I’ll see you after surgery. In the kitchen around twelve-thirty. OK?’

‘I…um. Why? I mean, what do you need to see me about?’ she demanded, her voice rising by at least an octave. She cleared her throat, striving hard to achieve her usual even tone. ‘There isn’t much we can do unless Lauren is prepared to tell us what is really wrong with her.’

‘There isn’t. However, it wasn’t Lauren I wanted to talk to you about.’

Matthew cast another wary glance over his shoulder when the door leading from the waiting room opened. ‘I need to ask your advice this time, Catherine. The old two heads theory and all that. So, I’ll see you in the kitchen later. And don’t let Margaret know that I’ve been in here again or she’ll have me shot for dereliction of duty!’

He disappeared and a moment later Catherine heard him greeting his patient with some quip or other. The sound of their laughter was abruptly cut off as his consulting-room door closed.

She took a deep breath, added another for good measure, then went for the hat trick. It didn’t work. Maybe Matthew’s invitation to meet him in the kitchen hadn’t had quite the same ring to it as Meet me under the clock and I’ll wear a red rose, but it had certainly had an effect on her equilibrium. Making a date…any kind of a date…with Matthew Fielding made her feel very vulnerable indeed!