Читать книгу The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal - Sarah Morgan - Страница 8

ALICE spoke to Rita, called the police and then worked flat out, seeing patients, with no time to even think about checking on her new partner.

‘How long have you had this rash on your eye, Mr Denny?’ As she saw her tenth patient of the morning, she thought gratefully of the cup of coffee that Gio Moretti had thought to bring her. It was the only sustenance she’d had all day.

‘It started with a bit of pain and tingling. Then it all went numb.’ The man sat still as she examined him. ‘I suppose all that began on Saturday. My wife noticed the rash yesterday. She was worried because it looks blistered. We wondered if I’d brushed up against something in the garden. You know how it is with some of those plants.’

Alice picked up her ophthalmoscope and examined his eye thoroughly. ‘I don’t think it’s anything to do with the garden, Mr Denny. You’ve got quite a discharge from your eye.’

‘It’s very sore.’

‘I’m sure it is.’ Alice put the ophthalmoscope down on her desk and washed her hands. ‘I want to test your vision. Can you read the letters for me?’

The man squinted at the chart on her wall and struggled to recite the letters. ‘Not very clear, I’m afraid.’ He looked worried. ‘My eyes have always been good. Am I losing my sight?’

‘You have a virus.’ Alice sat down and tapped something into her computer. Then she turned back to the patient. ‘I think you have shingles, Mr Denny.’

‘Shingles?’ He frowned. ‘In my eye?’

‘Shingles is a virus that affects the nerves,’ she explained, ‘and one in five cases occur in the eye—to be technical, it’s the ophthalmic branch of the trigeminal nerve.’

He pulled a face. ‘Never was much good at biology.’

Alice smiled. ‘You don’t need biology, Mr Denny. But I just wanted you to know it isn’t uncommon, unfortunately. I’m going to need to refer you to an ophthalmologist—an eye doctor at the hospital. Is there someone who can take you up there?’

He nodded. ‘My daughter’s waiting in the car park. She brought me here.’

‘Good.’ Alice reached for the phone and dialled the clinic number. ‘They’ll see you within the next couple of days.’

‘Do I really need to go there?’

Alice nodded. ‘They need to examine your eye with a slit lamp—a special piece of equipment that allows them to look at your eye properly. They need to exclude iritis. In the meantime, I’ll give you aciclovir to take five times a day for a week. It should speed up healing time and reduce the incidence of new lesions.’ She printed out the prescription on the computer as she waited for the hospital to answer the phone.

Once she’d spoken to the consultant, she quickly wrote a letter and gave it to the patient. ‘They’re really nice up there,’ she assured him, ‘but if you have any worries you’re welcome to come back to me.’

He left the room and Alice picked up a set of results. She was studying the numbers with a puzzled frown when Rita walked in. A motherly woman in her early fifties, her navy blue uniform was stretched over her large bosom and there was a far-away expression on her face. ‘Pinch me. Go on, pinch me hard. I’ve died and gone to heaven.’

Alice looked up. ‘Rita, have you seen Mrs Frank lately? I ran some tests but the results just don’t make sense.’ She’d examined the patient carefully and had been expecting something entirely different. She studied the results again. Perhaps she’d missed something.

‘Forget Mrs Frank’s results for a moment.’ Rita closed the door behind her. ‘I’ve got something far more important for you to think about.’

Alice didn’t look up. ‘I thought she had hypothyroidism. She had all the symptoms.’

‘Alice…’

Still absorbed in the problem, Alice shook her head. ‘The results are normal.’ She checked the results one more time and checked the normal values, just in case she’d missed something. She’d been so sure.

‘Alice!’ Rita sounded exasperated. ‘Are you even listening to me?’

Alice dragged her eyes away from the piece of paper in her hand, still pondering. Aware that Rita was glaring at her, she gave a faint smile. ‘Sorry, I’m still thinking about Mrs Frank,’ she admitted apologetically. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Dr Giovanni Moretti is the matter.’

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Alice slapped her hand over her mouth and rose to her feet quickly, ridden with guilt. ‘I’d totally forgotten about him. How could I?’

Rita stared at her. ‘How could you, indeed?’

‘Don’t! I feel terrible about it.’ Guilt consumed her. And after he’d been so helpful. ‘How could I have done that? I showed him into the room, made sure he had what he needed and I promised to look in on him, but I’ve had streams of patients this morning and I completely forgot his existence.’

‘You forgot his existence?’ Rita shook her head. ‘Alice, how could you possibly have forgotten his existence?’

‘I know, it’s dreadful! I feel terribly rude.’ She walked briskly round her desk, determined to make amends. ‘I’ll go and check on him immediately. Hopefully, if he’d needed any help he would have come and found me.’

‘Help?’ Rita’s tone was dry. ‘Trust me, Alice, the guy doesn’t need any help from you or anyone else. He’s slick. Mr Hotshot. Or I suppose I should call him Dr Hotshot.’

‘He’s finished stitching the boy?’ She glanced at her watch for the first time since she’d started surgery and realised with a shock that almost an hour and a half had passed.

‘Just the head, although personally I would have been happy to see him do the mouth as well.’ Rita gave a snort of disapproval. ‘Never heard such obscenities.’

‘Yes, they were pretty drunk, the three of them. How does the head look?’

‘Better than that boy deserves. Never seen a job as neat in my life and I’ve been nursing for thirty years,’ Rita admitted, a dreamy expression on her face. ‘Dr Moretti has amazing hands.’

‘He used to be a surgeon. If he’s done a good job and he’s finished, why did you come rushing in here telling me he was having problems?’

‘I never said he was having problems.’

‘You said something was the matter.’

‘No.’ Rita closed her eyes and sighed. ‘At least, not with him. Only with me. I think he’s fantastic.’

‘Oh.’ Alice paused by the door. ‘Well, he arrived a day early, brought me coffee first thing, sorted out a bunch of rowdy teenagers and stitched a nasty cut so, yes, I think he’s fantastic, too. He’s obviously a good doctor.’

‘I’m not talking about his medical skills, Alice.’

‘What are you talking about, then?’

‘Alice, he’s gorgeous. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed!’

‘Actually, I thought he looked a mess.’ Her hand dropped from the doorhandle and she frowned at the recollection. ‘But he’d been travelling all night.’

‘A mess?’ Rita sounded faint. ‘You think he looks a mess?’

Alice wondered whether to confess that she’d thought he looked dangerous. Strangely enough, the teenagers hadn’t bothered her. They were nothing more than gawky children and she’d had no doubts about her ability to handle them. But when she’d looked up and seen Gio standing there…

‘I’m sure he’ll look more respectable when he’s had a shower and a shave.’ Alice frowned. ‘And possibly a haircut. The boy was in such a state, I didn’t think it mattered.’

‘You didn’t even notice, did you?’ Rita shook her head in disbelief. ‘Alice, you need to do something about your life. The man is sex on a stick. He’s a walking female fantasy.’

Alice stared at her blankly, struggling to understand. ‘Rita, you’ve been married for twenty years and, anyway, he’s far too young for you.’

Rita gave her a suggestive wink. ‘Don’t you believe it. I like them young and vigorous.’

Alice sighed and wished she didn’t feel so completely out of step with the rest of her sex. Was she the only woman in the world who didn’t spend her whole life thinking about men? Even Rita was susceptible, even though she’d reached an age where she should have grown out of such stupidity.

‘He doesn’t look much like a doctor,’ she said frankly, ‘but I’m sure he’ll look better once he’s shaved and changed his clothes.’

‘He looks every inch a man. And he’d be perfect for you.’

Alice froze. ‘I refuse to have this conversation with you again, Rita. And while we’re at it, you can tell that receptionist of ours that I’m not having it with her either.’

Rita sniffed. ‘Mary worries about you, as I do, and—’

‘I’m not interested in men and both of you know that.’

‘Well, you should be.’ Rita folded her arms and her mouth clamped into a thin line. ‘You’re thirty years of age and—’

‘Rita!’ Alice interrupted her sharply. ‘This is not a good time.’

‘It’s never a good time with you. You never talk about it.’

‘Because there’s nothing to talk about!’ Alice took a deep breath. ‘I appreciate your concern, really, but—’

‘But you’re married to your work and that’s the way you’re staying.’ The older woman rose to her feet and Alice sighed.

‘I’m happy, Rita.’ Her voice softened slightly as she saw the worry in the older woman’s face. ‘Really I am. I like my life the way it is.’

‘Empty, you mean.’

‘Empty?’ Alice laughed and stroked blonde hair away from her face. ‘Rita, I’m so busy I don’t have time to turn round. My life certainly isn’t empty.’

Rita pursed her lips. ‘You’re talking about work and work isn’t enough for anybody. A woman needs a social life. A man. Sex.’

Alice glanced pointedly at her watch. ‘Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? I’ve got a surgery full of patients, Rita.’

And she was exhausted, hungry and thirsty and fed up with talking about subjects that didn’t interest her.

‘All right. I can take a hint. But the subject isn’t closed.’ Rita walked to the door. ‘Actually, I did come to ask you something. Although he doesn’t need your help, Gio wants two minutes to discuss the boy with you before he sends him out. Oh, and the police are here.’

Alice stood up and removed a bottle of water from the fridge in her consulting room. She couldn’t do anything about the hunger, but at least she could drink. ‘I don’t have time for them right now.’

‘If what Gio told me is correct, you’re going to make time.’ Suddenly Rita was all business. ‘They can’t go round behaving like that. And you need to lock the door behind you if you come in early in the morning. You might have been the only person in the building. You were careless. Up half the night with the little Bennett girl and not getting enough sleep as usual, no doubt.’

‘Rita—’

‘You’ll tell me I’m nagging but I worry about you, that’s all. I care about you.’

‘I know you do.’ Alice curled her hands into fists, uncomfortable with the conversation. Another person—a different person to her—would have swept across to Rita and given her a big hug, but Alice could no more do that than fly. Touching wasn’t part of her nature. ‘I know you care.’

‘Good.’ Rita gave a sniff. ‘Now, drink your water before you die of dehydration and then go and see Gio. And this time take a closer look. You might like what you see.’

Alice walked back to her desk and poured water into a glass. ‘All right, I’ll speak to Gio then I’ll see the police. Ask Mary to give them a coffee and put them in one of the empty rooms. Then see if she can placate the remaining patients. Tell them I’ll be with them as soon as possible.’ She paused to drink the water she’d poured and then set the glass on her desk. ‘Goodness knows if I’ll get through them all in time to do any house calls.’

‘Gio is going to help you see the patients once he’s discharged the boy. For goodness’ sake, don’t say no. It’s like the first day of the summer sales in the waiting room. If he helps then we might all stand a chance of getting some lunch.’

‘The letting agent is dropping the keys to his flat round here. He needs to get settled in. He needs to rest after the journey and shave the designer stubble—’

‘Any fool can see he’s a man with stamina and I don’t see his appearance hampering his ability to see patients,’ Rita observed, with impeccable logic. ‘We’re just ensuring that the surgery is going to be crammed for weeks to come.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because he’s too gorgeous for his own good and all the women in the practice are going to want to come and stare.’

Alice opened the door. ‘What exactly is it about men that turns normally sane women into idiots?’ she wondered out loud, and Rita grinned.

‘Whoever said I was sane?’

With an exasperated shake of her head, Alice walked along the corridor and pushed open the door of the room they used for minor surgery. ‘Dr Moretti, I’m so sorry, I’ve had a steady stream of patients and I lost track of the time.’

He turned to look at her and for a brief, unsettling moment Alice remembered Rita’s comment about him being a walking fantasy. He was handsome, she conceded, in an intelligent, devilish and slightly dangerous way. She could see that some women would find him attractive. Fortunately she wasn’t one of them.

‘No problem.’ His smile came easily. ‘I’ve just finished here. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand.’

‘Shame,’ Rita breathed, and Alice shot her a look designed to silence.

Gio ripped off his gloves and pushed the trolley away from him. ‘I think he’s safe to discharge. He wasn’t knocked out and his consciousness isn’t impaired. Fortunately he obviously drank less than his friends. I see no indication for an X-ray or a CT scan at the moment. He can be discharged with a head injury form.’ He turned to the boy, his expression serious. ‘I advise you to stay off the alcohol for a few days. If you start vomiting, feel drowsy, confused, have any visual disturbances or experience persistent headache within the next forty-eight hours, you should go to the A and E department at the hospital. Either way, you need those stitches out in four days. Don’t forget and don’t think it’s cool to leave them in.’

The boy gave a nod and slid off the couch, his face ashen. ‘Yeah. I hear you. Thanks, Doc. Are the guys outside?’

‘They’re having a cosy chat with the police,’ Rita told him sweetly, and the boy flushed and rubbed a hand over his face.

‘Man, I’m sorry about that.’ He shook his head and breathed out heavily. ‘They were a bit the worse for wear. We were at an all-night beach party.’ He glanced sideways at Alice, his expression sheepish. ‘You OK?’

She nodded. ‘I’m fine.’ She was busy looking at the wound. She couldn’t believe how neat the sutures were.

The boy left the room, escorted by Rita.

‘You did an amazing job, thank you so much.’ Alice closed the door behind them and turned to Gio. ‘I never would have thought that was possible. That cut looked such a mess. So many ragged edges. I wouldn’t have known where to start.’

But obviously he’d known exactly where to start. Despite appearances. If she hadn’t seen the results of his handiwork with her own eyes, she would still have struggled to believe that he was a doctor.

When David had described his friend, she’d imagined a smooth, slick Italian in a designer suit. Someone safe, conservative and conventional in appearance and attitude.

There was nothing safe or conservative about Gio.

He hovered on the wrong side of respectable. His faded T-shirt was stretched over shoulders that were both broad and muscular and a pair of equally faded jeans hugged his legs. His face was deeply tanned, his jaw dark with stubble and his eyes held a hard watchfulness that suggested no small degree of life experience.

She tried to imagine him dressed in a more conventional manner, and failed.

‘He’ll have a scar.’ Gio tipped the remains of his equipment into the nearest sharps bin. ‘But some of it will be hidden by his hair. I gather from Rita that you have a very long queue out there.’

Remembering the patients, exhaustion suddenly washed over her and she sucked in a breath, wondering for a moment how she was going to get through the rest of the day. ‘I need to talk to the police and then get back to work. I’m sorry I don’t have time to give you a proper tour. Hopefully I can do that tomorrow, before you officially start.’

‘Forget the tour.’ His eyes scanned her face. ‘You look done in. The girl who made your coffee told me that you were up in the night, dealing with an asthma attack. You must be ready for a rest yourself. Let’s split the rest of the patients.’

She gave a wan smile. ‘I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve been travelling all night.’ It occurred to her that he was the one who ought to look tired. Instead, his gaze was sharp, assessing.

‘You’re not asking, I’m offering. In fact, I’m insisting. If you drop dead from overwork before this afternoon, who will show me round?’

His smile had a relaxed, easy charm and she found herself responding. ‘Well, if you’re sure. I’ll ask Mary to send David’s patients through to you. If you need any help just buzz me. Lift the receiver and press 3.’