Читать книгу The GP's Marriage Wish - Judy Campbell, Judy Campbell - Страница 7

CHAPTER TWO

‘SO IT’S all change, then, is it?’ Karen Lightfoot, the practice nurse, stared with round, rather bulging eyes at Victoria and Connor. ‘Talk about gob-smacked! I can’t believe Betty and John are getting married after all these years! And now you two are taking over?’ She shook her head dolefully. ‘Any minute now I’ll wake up and find it’s been a dream.’

‘As long as it’s not a nightmare, Karen,’ said Connor drily. ‘We’re going to try and make it work, but we can only do it with your, Maggie’s and Pete’s help. As a receptionist for some years, Maggie knows every patient in the practice, and although Pete’s only been practice manager for a few months, I’m sure we’ll be able to manage the finances as well as my father and Betty did.’

A week after her return to England, Victoria and the rest of the surgery staff were sitting in the office behind the frosted window of the reception area before surgery started. Betty and John had told them the week before of their departure and it was plain that they all felt as shocked as Victoria and Connor.

Victoria took a sip of strong black coffee, feeling rather like a condemned prisoner. The cold realisation that she was committed to share the running of The Cedars Medical Centre with someone she would never had chosen to work with was starting to sink in.

She looked across at Connor. She may have spent two years with him at school, but in many ways he felt like a stranger. She was still amazed that anyone could change so much physically—the callow youth with attitude had become a man with an air of authority about him, still undeniably attractive—but not to her, she thought fiercely. She’d learnt what he was really like—how could one feel anything kindly for someone like him? She bit her lip and doodled absently on a piece of paper. She was still raw from the sadness of breaking up with Andy so recently and that had made her more sensitive perhaps.

The thought of Andy reminded Victoria of the depressing news she’d received in the post that morning. It had been all she could do to force down a few cornflakes when she’d read it, reviving painful memories of her time in Australia. Its effect on her mood was going to make it a very long day indeed.

She was dragged back from her reverie to the present by the loud voice of Maggie Brown, the receptionist. She was a round-faced, pleasant woman with a wild bun of hair, which was escaping from numerous large hairpins.

‘If we’re making a fresh start, I want to put in a plea for another receptionist to help soon. I know we have Lucy, but she’s only part time, and sometimes I’m run off my feet—I really do need some more backup. I’ve been telling John for ages that we’re understaffed, but he never took any notice.’ She gave a half-laugh to soften her words. ‘If I have a breakdown soon, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘We’ll bear that in mind, Maggie,’ said Connor gravely. ‘Do you have any comments, Pete?’

Pete Becket, bespectacled and burly, nodded emphatically. ‘We urgently need to run over the number of domiciliary visits and dermatology reports the practice has been racking up—we’re going to be well over budget this year if we aren’t careful. Of course it’s been difficult to pin John down in the last few months,’ he said, putting a large folder on the table. ‘But we don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.’

‘And while we’re on the subject,’ broke in Karen, ‘John did mention that we should think about getting a phlobotomy nurse—it would save so much time when we need blood samples, instead of sending patients all the way into Sethfield.’

‘That’s something that will have to be discussed with the other practices in our cluster,’ said Pete. ‘Now we’re involved in practice-based commissioning it’s important we put these points forward at the next meeting. And, of course, the biggest issue is the closure of the local community hospital, St Hilda’s, to make way for commercial building in the town. Some of them are for it, others not.’

Connor and Victoria glanced at each other and he put up a hand. ‘Hey! Give us a chance to take breath—we’ve only just got here! We’ll certainly look into your concerns—I’ve been making notes so that Victoria and I can study them and then we’ll have a proper meeting.’

‘Asap, I hope,’ said Maggie, ‘otherwise I may come to a full stop!’

Karen stood up, her blue nurse’s uniform straining over her plump body. ‘Right—if that’s all, I’d better get going and start doing the BP tests on the oldies now. I can hear the waiting room filling up.’ She went to the door and then turned back to say brightly, ‘Oh, and by the way, we need more coffee and biscuits, we’re right out. Can someone get them before our break?’

‘Well, I’ve no time to get any,’ said Maggie firmly, as everyone began to leave the room. ‘I’m just about to load the morning lists onto Connor and Victoria’s computers—and I’ve got to switch the phones through now.’

Connor and Victoria were left alone. They stared bleakly at each other for a second as if the reality of working together had begun to sink in. Then Connor pulled forward the pad he’d been making notes on and said tersely, ‘They don’t seem very happy!’

‘I’m afraid your father seems to have left a few problems behind him,’ observed Victoria. ‘As senior partner he had the final say in all the decisions. He should have ironed some of them out before asking us to take over.’

‘Excuse me? What do you mean?’ Connor frowned at her, his voice sharp. ‘There were two of them here, you know. My father has probably been off work quite a bit with his treatment. Betty knew what the position was.’

‘She was run off her feet—it’s not easy to cope being the only GP in the practice,’ Victoria pointed out forcefully. ‘They should have got a locum in. It seems to me John was trying to save money.’

‘That would have been a joint decision—and anyway perhaps some of things that have been mentioned aren’t cost effective. No good splashing money around.’

He stood up and stared down at her frowningly, his eyes a steely blue. It made her feel a little…well, unsettled, as if he was looking right into her mind and didn’t like what he saw there.

‘I’m not blaming anyone—just stating facts,’ she said.

‘No, you’re making suppositions, Victoria, jumping to conclusions about my father.’ He glowered at her again, his strong face a study in anger. ‘As I remember it from school, you do have a tendency to blurt out opinions without backing them up with evidence.’

Victoria laughed—it was such a preposterous statement. ‘What the hell are you talking about? For goodness’ sake, dragging up school days!’ She looked at him scornfully. ‘Perhaps it would be as well not to go back there.’

For a second he looked slightly abashed—perhaps he was remembering that night when he’d been so insulting to her, and she pressed home her point. ‘To be honest, I don’t know how we’re going to work together if you’re going to be so rude—in fact, I give our partnership a week or two at the most if this goes on.’

His strong face relaxed into a grin, making him look quite boyish, and he raised his hands in contrition. ‘OK, OK, so I spoke slightly out of turn. But it’s no good looking back at how the place was run and apportioning blame.’

Those blue eyes revealed a twinkle of laughter in them, holding Victoria’s with a teasing charm, and to her continued annoyance she felt a treacherous and brief flicker of response to the sexy aura he exuded. Something about his eyes and the amused quirk of his mouth, she supposed. He had a point about looking back, though—the only way they could work together was to deal with the present problems and not point a finger at either John or Betty for causing them. Connor shot a look at his watch.

‘Well, it’s time to take the plunge now. We’d better thrash over these problems later—in the pub after work tonight suit you?’

Victoria shrugged unenthusiastically. She knew she wanted this particular day to finish early, to digest the news she’d received in the post that morning and wallow in a bit of nostalgia for things past. Discussing the troubles of the practice at the end of the day sounded very unappealing. ‘OK, I suppose so…’ She sighed.

‘Don’t sound so keen.’ Connor put his hands on the desk and looked at her appraisingly with those startling blue eyes. ‘Look, I can tell you aren’t over the moon about working with me, but we’ve said we’ll give it a go, so in the circumstances we’ll have to make the best of things.’

‘I agree with you,’ she said coldly. ‘We need to pull together to make a success of the practice, and I’m quite prepared to do that. I’ll meet you tonight to discuss things, even though it’s not actually very convenient.’

‘Good,’ he said briskly, gathering up some papers and making for the door. He looked back at her before he went out. ‘By the way, if you need any help, let me know.’

Victoria’s face burned with irritation. He might have been trying to be helpful, but she interpreted his offer as slightly patronising. She controlled her voice with an effort.

‘I think I can manage quite well, thank you—after all, I’m just as experienced as you.’

He raised an eyebrow and gave a low chuckle. Victoria had become much more assertive than he remembered! ‘Just a suggestion, Freckles—lighten up a bit. No need to be so deadly serious!’

He’d gone before she could think of a timely retort and indignantly she snatched up her bag. This was a fine start to the first day of work at The Cedars!

Her heart was thumping angrily as she stalked out and made her way to her room. She was cross with herself for allowing him to get under her skin—but she was a grown up now and in future she would maintain a dignified and professional approach, however much he irritated her, she told herself sternly.

Her first patient that morning was Janet Loxton, middle-aged and immaculately dressed in a tan suit with a black scarf draped elegantly round her neck. She sat down on the edge of the chair and Victoria took a deep breath and tried to calm down while she listened to the woman. Mrs Loxton’s look was unnervingly hostile.

‘I wanted to see your mother—she’s my usual doctor,’ was the unpromising start. ‘I must say I’m shocked to hear she’s left the practice.’

‘She felt it was time to retire,’ explained Victoria. ‘She’s now married to Dr Saunders and they plan to go away for a rest.’

‘She might have given us more notice.’ A deep sigh. ‘Anyway, I suppose we’ll have to get used to you.’

I seem to be surrounded by rude people, thought Victoria wryly, but she fixed a smile on her face and said soothingly, ‘I’m sure when you get to know us better, things will be easier.’

Janet gave a cynical grunt, then said abruptly, ‘I need sleeping pills. I’m awake all night and I’m run off my feet all day, looking after my father…’

Victoria groaned inwardly. It was Sod’s Law that her first patient would start off with what she called a ‘heart-sink consultation’. Giving sleeping tablets was something she was very reluctant to do, feeling it was a fob-off for a quick result, and didn’t tackle the underlying causes—but in her experience the patient was usually adamant about having some!

‘And is this insomnia something new?’ asked Victoria.

‘Oh, no, I’ve had it before. I suppose it’s worry… Anyway, you’ll see that Dr Sorensen always gave me something for it. Just give me the same things, please.’

The woman’s tone was peremptory, trying to hurry the consultation along. Victoria peered at the patient’s notes on the computer and saw that her mother had indeed prescribed sleeping tablets in the past, but she was damned if she was going to just hand them out like sweets on demand.

‘Do you work as well as look after your father?’ she asked.

‘I have a part-time job at the dress shop in the village. It saves my sanity. The rest of my time is spent running after an old man who needs professional help.’

‘I take it he lives with you?’

‘Yes…has done for the last five years. He needs to go in a home, though, but that’s absolutely out as far as he’s concerned.’

Victoria leant forward and looked at the woman sympathetically. ‘It can’t be an easy situation for you…’

‘Of course it’s not!’ snapped Janet. For a second her mouth trembled, revealing very briefly the strain she was under. ‘That’s why I need these pills—I’ve got to get some rest.’

‘Have you spoken to Social Services about getting help?’

Janet gave a humourless laugh. ‘Oh, they’ve sent people in to give him baths, tidy him up a bit, but he’s just sent them packing—he can be very rude when he wants to. Refuses to have anything to do with them. Do you wonder that I can’t sleep?’

‘Mrs Loxton,’ said Victoria gently, ‘you can’t keep on these tablets for ever, and anyway the effect begins to wear off when you have them continually. You can develop a tolerance for them and need a higher dose to have the same effect.’

The patient leant forward and said intensely, ‘I know all the pitfalls—you don’t have to tell me. Your mother gave them to me, and I don’t see why you just can’t give me some without all these questions.’

‘I can’t just hand out prescriptions because my mother gave them to you,’ said Victoria firmly. ‘Your circumstances and health may have changed since you last saw her. However, I will give you a low dose of Triazolone—a ten-day course to try and get you back on an organised sleep pattern. But sleep disorders can be caused by a number of factors and I want you to try what we call sleep hygiene.’

Janet looked puzzled and Victoria smiled. ‘Nothing to do with being clean! It’s a kind of routine—wind down at the end of the day, don’t stimulate your brain with television or exciting reading, and obviously cut out caffeine, and have a warm drink before you go to bed.’

‘Yes, yes, I’ll do all that,’ said the woman impatiently.

Victoria looked at her patient reflectively. ‘You know, what you could do with is some respite care for your father. Perhaps he’d be amenable to going into a home for a few days. It would give you a break.’

‘I doubt he would—he’s as stubborn as a mule. He’s ninety-six and has always been like that, so I don’t think he’ll change now.’

‘Why don’t I come and see him and give him a general check-up? I could broach the subject to him then.’

Victoria printed off the prescription from the computer and gave it to Mrs Loxton, who put it in her handbag and rose from her chair.

‘I don’t think he’d want to see you—he doesn’t hold with doctors and I don’t want him upset because I have to deal with the consequences,’ she said abruptly. ‘Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with him as far as I can see, except arthritis, poor eyesight and a beastly temper. Thank you for the prescription anyway.’

She disappeared and Victoria frowned as she updated the woman’s notes. She wished she knew more of the background to Mrs Loxton’s domestic affairs—was she married, and did she get any help for her father from her family? This was where her mother’s knowledge would have been invaluable. She tapped her teeth with her pen thoughtfully, then pressed the intercom to the office.

‘Maggie, could you spare a second?’

‘Sure—I’ll be with you in one second. I’m just sorting out some appointments.’

‘I just need a bit of background information…I won’t keep you.’

Maggie’s face, surrounded by her wild hairstyle, peered round the door. ‘How can I help?’

‘I’ve just seen a patient called Janet Loxton—can you tell me her father’s name?’

‘Of course. He’s Bernard Lamont. You may have heard of him.’

‘The name sounds familiar—isn’t he an artist?’

Maggie nodded. ‘Oh, yes—he’s one of Braithwaite’s celebrities. He exhibits at the Royal Academy, I believe.’

‘Ah, I knew you’d know about all the patients,’ said Victoria. ‘Can you tell me anything else about him?’

Maggie smiled—she looked quite pleased to be asked. ‘He’s a right curmudgeon, though of course he’s very old now. I believe he can’t paint any more, so that’s hard for him. He and his daughter don’t get on.’

‘He lives with his daughter?’

Maggie nodded. ‘Well, she moved into his house when her marriage collapsed—that was a few years ago when Bernard Lamont was OK. Now she’s got a new boyfriend and it can’t be easy to carry on a romance with a demanding parent in the background.’

‘Has she any family or siblings?’

‘Not that I know of. She used to work in London when she was married.’

‘Right. Thanks, Maggie, that’s very helpful. It’s good to get the background on patients’ lives—gives me a fuller picture. I’ll make a note to visit Mr Lamont.’

Maggie laughed. ‘You’ll be lucky—he won’t see anyone.’ She turned to go. ‘I’ll get back, then. Can’t leave the desk too long at this time of day—it’s like a jungle out there sometimes!’

They smiled at each other and Victoria pressed the intercom to summon the next patient with a sudden upsurge of spirits. She could see that Maggie had a sense of humour—someone she hoped she could have some fun with. Getting to know the patients and the day-to-day doctoring was part of being a GP, and if Maggie could help her fill in the backgrounds of these people, so much the better.

The morning spun by with a succession of patients with fairly mundane complaints from sore throats to bad backs, and by the time the last patient came in it was nearly eleven o’clock and Victoria could smell an enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifting across from the little kitchen. She glanced at the clock—hopefully she’d be able to grab a cup in about five minutes.

A large, ruddy-faced man entered the room, leaning heavily on a stick, followed by an anxious-looking woman.

‘Please, sit down, both of you.’ Victoria smiled.

The man sat down heavily, his chest heaving in and out and a wheezing sound coming with every breath.

His wife started speaking quickly before he could say anything. ‘I’m so glad we were given this appointment, Dr Curtis, because I’m really anxious about Dan. He’s not been well for the last few weeks, but he wouldn’t come and see you. Today he seems really ill, and I’ve said if he didn’t come now, while he was in Braithwaite at the market, I’d throw his cigarettes away—and I meant it!’

Dan Wetherby shook his head, unable to speak, and Victoria got up and warmed her stethoscope in her hands. ‘I think I’d better examine you, although I can hear your breathing’s not good even before I look at you. Let’s undo your shirt.’

‘Susan’s just fussing—there’s nowt to worry about,’ he wheezed, and was convulsed by a racking cough.

‘I’m not fussing,’ protested his wife. ‘I knew your mother, Doctor—she’s such a lovely woman—and she said months ago he was to come for a check-up. She even came round to see him, but he’s that stubborn…’

Victoria waited until Dan stopped coughing and then put her stethoscope on his chest, front and back, listening intently. It sounded bad, as she had known it would, crackles and wheezes in all zones, and his heartbeat was very fast. The couple watched her face anxiously, trying to read from her expression what the diagnosis would be.

She put the stethoscope on the desk and folded her hands in front of her. ‘You know yourself you’ve got a very bad chest, Mr Wetherby. How long have you been like this?’

‘Weeks,’ said his wife. ‘I begged him to come and see you, but he wouldn’t—the obstinate old fool.’

‘Can’t leave the farm,’ wheezed Dan.

Victoria took a deep breath—she knew he wouldn’t like what she was going to say next. ‘You aren’t well, Mr Wetherby,’ she said gently. ‘Your lungs aren’t working as they should and I can hear all sorts of crackles. You need immediate hospitalisation to relieve your symptoms.’

‘Can’t you give me an antibiotic?’ he whispered. ‘That’s what I had last time I had an infection.’

Victoria nodded. ‘You certainly need antibiotics, but the hospital will give them intravenously to make them work more effectively, and in any case until you have a CT scan and a sputum test, we don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with…and we can’t give you those procedures here.’

‘I can’t go to bloody hospital… I won’t…’

Susan clasped her hands together and looked across at Victoria. ‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’ she said quietly.

‘As I say, I can’t tell exactly what’s going on until tests have been done—and that has to be done quickly, and in hospital.’

Dan struck his stick on the floor. ‘I’m not going—not without another opinion. Think of all the stuff I’ve got to do at the farm…’

Victoria looked at Dan’s stubborn expression and sighed. Perhaps he felt he was giving in to his illness if he did what she advised. ‘Look,’ she said with an encouraging smile, ‘what about if I asked Dr Saunders to look at you? If he confirms what I think, would you go then?’

‘Might do,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, yes, you will, Dan Wetherby.’ His wife looked at her husband fiercely. ‘I’m not having another night like last night, with you hardly able to breathe for that cough. We’ll see Dr Saunders as well, just to hammer home that he needs to go to hospital.’

‘I won’t be a minute, then. I’ll just see if he’s still here.’

Victoria went to the office to find out if Connor had started on his home visits or was still in surgery. He was sitting in front of the computer, peering earnestly at the screen and making notes.

‘Connor, can I have a word?’

He swung round. ‘Ah, Freckles…I mean Victoria. Don’t tell me you need help already?’

Victoria looked at him coldly. ‘Ha, ha. Very funny. Yes, I would like your help—and not because I don’t know what’s wrong with the patient,’ she said defensively.

‘I’m sure you do,’ Connor remarked lightly.

She ignored his remark and continued. ‘Mr Wetherby has chronic airway disease, very tachypnoeaic with widespread respiratory wheeze. I believe he should be admitted immediately for tests and therapy, but he’s adamant he won’t go until he has a second opinion, so…’

‘You’d like me to come and look at him?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Only too happy to oblige a colleague. Lead me to him.’

They went into Victoria’s room and she introduced Connor to the anxious-looking couple. ‘Dr Saunders will examine you, Mr Wetherby, and I know he’ll give an unbiased opinion on what should be the course of action,’ she explained.

‘Good morning, Mr and Mrs Wetherby.’ Connor gave them a charming smile and shook Dan’s hand, then drew up a chair to sit in front of them. ‘I believe you’ve been having some chest trouble. Dr Curtis tells me this has been worrying you for quite a while—am I right?’

His voice was kind and gentle, and the elderly couple, who had tensed noticeably as he’d come into the room, relaxed again. Victoria looked at him cynically. He could turn on the charm if he wanted to—his sympathetic manner showed a sensitivity she’d never experienced from him herself, she reflected.

Connor sat down in front of Dan, bending his head forward as he concentrated on the sounds coming through the stethoscope on the man’s chest. After a minute or two he looked up at Victoria.

‘Tachycardic and definite signs of consolidation at the left base,’ he murmured to her. Then added, ‘What was your advice?’

‘I think Mr Wetherby needs to go to hospital for immediate tests, nebulisers and intravenous antibiotics.’

Connor nodded and stood up, folding his arms judiciously. ‘I completely agree—no good pussyfooting around here.’ He looked at the old man and his wife. ‘Your chest is bad, and I can only see it getting worse, whatever we give you here. I think Dr Curtis has no alternative but to get you to St Hilda’s immediately.’ He added gently, to take the sting from his words, ‘You’ll feel so much better when you’ve had some treatment, believe me.’

Dan looked from one doctor to the other, then gave a sigh. ‘Well, nowt for it, then. If you both think I should go, I’ll have to do it. Mother, you’ll have to get our Barry down from his place to give us a hand with the milking.’

‘I’ll do that,’ promised his wife, ‘when I’ve got you to the hospital.’

‘I’m sending for an ambulance, Mrs Wetherby,’ said Victoria. ‘I want him to be started on oxygen as soon as possible, and the paramedics will give him that. Perhaps you’d like to follow him in your car.’ She picked up the phone. ‘I’ll also speak to the registrar on the chest ward—we want things to get moving as soon as possible.’

Suddenly the Wetherbys looked very vulnerable and bewildered—events had moved too quickly for them and they were in shock, gazing blankly at each other. Connor started to explain to them what was likely to happen in the hospital, his voice a low reassuring murmur. The phone calls over, Victoria looked at the trio for a minute. Connor was bending forward as he talked earnestly to them, encouraging them to ask any questions and giving them time to adjust to the situation. Quite an eye-opener, she thought. Connor had matured into the doctor with the perfect bedside manner!

‘The ambulance is on its way,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and meet them and fill in the paramedics on your condition, Mr Wetherby.’

In ten minutes the patient was on his way to St Hilda’s. Susan started crying as he was taken out to the ambulance and turned to the two doctors waiting by her side.

‘He’s very ill, isn’t he?’ she said softly. ‘I’ve known it for some time now—and I think he has, too—but we were both too frightened of the truth to do anything about it. How stupid we’ve been.’

‘No, you haven’t,’ soothed Victoria. ‘Lots of people find it hard to admit they need help. Look,’ she added, ‘let me give you a lift to the hospital—I don’t think you should be driving after a shock like this.’

Susan shook her head and dried her eyes. ‘No, no. I’ll be all right. I’ll go round by my son’s place and he can come with me—he works from home so I know he’ll be there.’

She got in the car and then wound down the window, looking up at Victoria and Connor. ‘Thank you, you’ve both been very kind and I’m so grateful.’ She smiled at them. ‘You know it’s like seeing a young Dr Sorensen and Dr Saunders when I look at the two of you—you’re both so like your parents. They were lovely doctors in the community, and it’s so comforting to know that you’re carrying on now they’ve retired.’

They watched as she drove out of the car park and Victoria murmured, ‘A nice woman… She must have been so worried about her husband. It’s amazing how some people have the capacity to carry on and ignore what’s happening to them. He must have felt terrible for a long time.’ She turned towards Connor and said with an effort at courtesy, ‘Thanks for backing me up there—he’s quite a stubborn old boy.’

‘No question about it—he needs immediate treatment.’

They turned and went back towards the surgery, the autumn sun warm on their backs. Connor stopped for a moment and looked back at the valley in front of the house, the ploughed fields reflecting the shadows of the clouds as they drifted across the sky.

‘It’s a beautiful part of the world,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten how lovely it was. My father was right about the surgery being in such an idyllic place.’

‘Yes, and it all looks much the same as it did before I left some years ago. The stable block of Mum’s house had just been converted into the medical centre then…’ Almost absently Victoria added, ‘Hard to believe such a lot has happened since.’

He looked at her with raised brows. ‘Such as?’

She gave a short dismissive laugh. ‘Oh, it’s water under the bridge now.’

‘Quite right, Freckles. Look forward.’

She frowned. ‘I’ve told you, don’t call me that.’

‘Sorry…can’t get out of the habit somehow.’ He kicked a stone away from under his foot and glanced at her with a wry smile. ‘Funny that we should end up together in this practice, isn’t it? There was always a bit of rivalry between us in the old days—you probably never dreamt that our paths would cross again.’

‘No,’ agreed Victoria shortly. ‘It certainly wasn’t in my life plan.’

‘We’ll have to learn to work in harness together now.’

‘I suppose so…’

‘Perhaps,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘we could put on an act.’

‘What do you mean, an act?’

He gave a short laugh. ‘It’s obvious, my dear Victoria, that you’re not too keen about working with me.’ He looked at her steadily. ‘Perhaps you’ve good reason… I know I was a brat at school.’

Victoria was startled—he’d actually admitted he’d treated her badly! That was something, she supposed—a kind of apology.

‘It was a long time ago,’ she murmured.

‘What I mean is that if we pretend that we rub along OK, we might actually find we do! After all, we could have quite a nice life here. We each have good homes to live in that our parents have vacated, even if it is short term—it just needs a bit of give and take on both sides, I reckon.’

His clear blue eyes held hers questioningly and Victoria suddenly felt rather flustered, as if a switch had been thrown to register a mixture of excitement and danger. She looked at him in confusion. For so long she’d thought of him with dislike, the memory of that dance assuming more importance than it warranted, she supposed. Now he’d acknowledged that incident, shown that he’d matured, and it seemed silly to hark back to how he’d treated her then. She looked at his strong, intelligent face and firm uncompromising lips and swallowed hard. How extraordinary was that? She was beginning to admit to herself that she found Connor Saunders just as sexy now as she had when she’d been a schoolgirl!

She stepped hastily away from him. She must be going mad or perhaps she was sex starved, but how could Connor Saunders, whom she’d vowed to put out of her mind, kick-start feelings she thought had vanished for ever? He looked at her enquiringly, obviously expecting some reaction to his remarks.

With an effort she collected her thoughts. ‘I’m perfectly willing to work amicably with you, Connor, but it’s got to be a two-way thing. For instance, your remarks this morning weren’t very helpful.’

He held his hands up in submission. ‘OK, so I’ll try not to shoot my mouth off in future—and perhaps in return you can loosen up a bit.’ Then he grinned and put his hand under her chin, lifting her face towards his as he inspected her face. ‘How about it, Freckles? Think you can put on an act?’

She pulled her face away from his hand and said loftily, ‘I shall act in a dignified way, Connor. We’re both mature people—I’m sure we can manage to work together without bickering the whole time.’

‘Hallelujah to that!’ he remarked.

Karen, the practice nurse, ran towards them. ‘Oh, Victoria, you wouldn’t see one last patient this morning, would you? She’s only about ten and has come in by herself—I don’t think she’s even registered with the practice, but she looks really poorly. Connor’s still got another patient so he can’t see her.’

Connor had started to walk back towards the surgery, his feet making a scrunching noise on the path. Victoria watched him go before she went with Karen to see the patient and sighed. Would Connor and she ever be able to get on normally with each other? Having to ‘put on an act’might get rather wearing!

* * *

The young girl looked down at the floor, twisting her hands together.

‘What’s your name?’ Victoria asked her gently.

‘Evie Gelevska,’ was the whispered reply after a long pause. ‘I’m eighteen.’

‘Can you tell me what’s wrong, Evie?’ Victoria probed, while doing a quick visual assessment of the young patient, a thin pale little figure dressed in a ragtag collection of old pullovers with holes in them and a skimpy skirt. There was an unkempt air about her, as if she hadn’t bathed or washed for some time.

Evie looked up at Victoria timidly. ‘My throat’s sore. I thought you could give me something to make it better.’

There was just the hint of an accent in the girl’s voice, a trace of a European inflection perhaps. She smiled kindly at her. ‘I’m sure I can, Evie. Let me have a look at it. Open your mouth, pet, and I’ll shine this torch on it to let me see better.’ Victoria bent down and peered into her mouth. No wonder the poor girl was in pain: both tonsils were inflamed and there were white spots of pus on the periphery. She looked up at Evie’s scared face.

‘Poor you,’ she said. ‘It does look painful—but I can give you some medicine that will make it feel a lot better in a few days. Now I’ll have to take some details about you first—you aren’t registered with us, are you?’

She went round to her desk and opened up a new file on the computer for Evie Gelevska. ‘What’s your address?’

‘I live at the bottom of Smithy Lane in one of the cottages there.’

Victoria nodded; she knew it well as the lane was behind her house. ‘Right—and where’s your mum? Couldn’t she come with you?’

There was silence for a second, then the girl muttered, ‘She’s not well herself…but she’s sort of used to it.’

Victoria looked puzzled. ‘Has she got a sore throat, too?’

Evie hesitated, then said slowly, ‘No—it’s not that sort of illness. I mean she’s OK really. Just finds it hard to get about.’

‘I see. Have you just come to this area then?’

‘Yes. We’ve only been here a little while.’

‘Well, I do need your mum to come in because we’ll have to ask her some questions about you and your general health—and she will need to register with us, too. Will you ask her to come when she feels up to it?’

Victoria printed off a prescription for antibiotics and handed it to Evie. ‘Now, it’s very important that you take this medicine properly—the instructions will be printed on the side by the chemist and you must finish them all. What school do you go to, Evie?’

‘Braithwaite Comprehensive.’

‘Well, I should take today and tomorrow off—after that, if you feel well enough, go back to school. And one more thing. I’d like to see you next week and just check that everything’s all right. Make an appointment at Reception. Perhaps your mum would come with you next time—really it’s better if I see her as well.’

The girl nodded, unsmiling. ‘I’ll come.’

‘You know, if your mother’s not well enough to come here, perhaps I could see her on a home visit…’

Evie’s head jerked up and she said sharply, ‘No! No, she wouldn’t like that—I mean, she’s not all that ill.’

Victoria frowned and looked gravely at Evie. ‘She does know you’ve come to see me, doesn’t she?’

A slight flush spread over Evie’s cheeks, and there was a moment’s hesitation before she spoke. ‘Yes…yes, of course… but she trusts me to do things myself.’ Then she added abruptly, ‘Thank you for seeing me,’ and almost ran from the room.

Victoria followed her and then went into the office to look out of the window as she retrieved her bike and disappeared down the road. There was something odd about this situation, something that didn’t add up, she thought uneasily. Why hadn’t the mother rung the surgery to say that her daughter was coming in, especially as they weren’t registered or known to the practice?

She started to pour herself a coffee from the percolator, then looked again through the window—she could just see Evie cycling down the hill to the village. Connor came into the room behind her.

‘That coffee smells good,’ he said, joining her at the window. ‘What are you looking at?’

‘Can you see that girl on the bike?’ she asked. ‘I feel worried about her… She came by herself and I’m sure the mother’s unaware that she’s been here.’

‘What’s the matter with her?’

‘She’s got a badly infected throat,’ Victoria replied as she handed a cup of coffee to him, then added pensively, ‘And she wasn’t very forthcoming with information about her mother—didn’t want me to contact her.’

‘Why should she want to come secretly?’

Victoria shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea—but I think I ought to pay the mother a visit—make sure things are OK.’

He nodded and sipped his coffee. ‘Good idea. When in doubt, best to find out. By the way, don’t forget we’ve a meeting at the pub tonight—about seven o’clock?’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’ She sighed, her eyes following the vanishing figure of Evie Gelevska.