Second Chance with Her Guarded GP

by Kate Hardy

  ‘Good plan,’ she said.

  He finished his sandwich. ‘You were right. This bread’s as good as any I’ve eaten in a posh café in London.’

  ‘Wait until you try the muffin,’ she said. ‘I know you’re not a cake person, but this is savoury.’ She rummaged in the brown paper bag and brought out a wrapped muffin. ‘Your challenge, should you accept it, is to tell me what’s in the muffin.’

  He liked the slightly teasing look in her eyes. And he was shocked to realise that, actually, he liked her.

  ‘So what’s in it?’ she tested.

  ‘Spices and cheese,’ he said.

  She gave him a mock-sorrowful look. ‘That’s much too general.’

  ‘Remember what the G in GP stands for,’ he retorted.

  She laughed, and it made her light up from the inside. Her dark eyes sparkled and there was an almost irresistible curve to her mouth. And Ollie found himself staring at Gemma Baxter, spellbound, for a moment.

  He really hadn’t expected this.

  It was nearly four months since he’d split up with Tabby. Although he knew he had to move on, he hadn’t really noticed any other women since then. Until today: and he really wasn’t sure he was ready for this right now.

  He needed to backtrack, fast, before he said something stupid. He didn’t want to let Gemma close; yet, at the same time, he didn’t want to freeze her out. He’d thought Gemma was the careless type when he’d first met her, but he was beginning to realise that there was more to her than that. Someone careless wouldn’t be doing a skydive for charity.

  The best compromise would be to stick to a safe subject. ‘So tell me about Ashermouth Bay.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’ she asked. ‘About the sort of things that are popular with tourists, or a potted history of the town?’

  ‘A bit of both,’ he said.

  ‘OK. Ashermouth Bay used to be a fishing village,’ she said. ‘Obviously times change, and now the town’s more reliant on tourism than on fishing. Though you can still take a boat trip out to see the puffins on the islands offshore, and if you’re lucky you might see dolphins and porpoises on the way. There’s a colony of seals nearby, too, and they tend to come into the bay when the pups are born—which is basically about now. If walking’s your thing, you can walk right along the bay at low tide and go up to the castle; and you can see a bit of an old shipwreck along the way.’

  ‘That’s just the sort of thing I would’ve loved as a kid,’ he said.

  ‘The local history group does a ghost walk once a month in the village,’ she said, ‘with tales of smugglers and pirates. If castles are your thing, there are loads of them nearby—though I’m guessing, as you said your parents live near here, you already know all about them.’

  ‘My mum loves visiting stately homes for the gardens,’ he said. ‘And I’ve driven her and Dad to a few when I’ve come to visit.’

  ‘If you like sport, the village has a cricket team and a football team,’ she said. ‘And there’s an adventure centre based in the harbour if you want to do surfing, paddle-boarding, kite-surfing and the like.’

  All things Ollie knew his brother would adore; out of the two of them, Rob was the adrenalin junkie. It was why his twin worked in a fast-paced emergency department in Manchester, was a member of the local mountain rescue team as well as enjoying climbing on his days off, and spent his holidays working for a humanitarian aid organisation. Ollie adored his brother, but he was happy being grounded rather than pushing himself to take extra risks, the way Rob did. The family joke was that Ollie had Rob’s share of being sensible and Rob had Ollie’s share of being adventurous. ‘The cliffs and the beach sound just fine to me,’ he said.

  She glanced at her watch. ‘We need to be heading back.’

  ‘Admin and phone calls before afternoon surgery?’ he asked.

  ‘Absolutely.’ She smiled at him.

  ‘Thank you for lunch,’ he said.

  ‘You’re very welcome.’

  ‘Let me help you fold the blanket.’ Though when his fingers accidentally brushed against hers, again he felt the prickle of adrenalin down his spine.

  Ridiculous.

  They were colleagues. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. There were a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t even think about what it might be like to kiss Gemma Baxter.

  But he’d noticed the curve of her mouth, the fullness of her lower lip. And he couldn’t help wondering.

  He shook himself. They were colleagues, and nothing more. And he needed to make some kind of small talk on the way back to the practice, to make sure she didn’t have a clue about the thoughts running through his head.

  * * *

  Once he’d thawed out a little, Oliver Langley had turned out to be surprisingly nice, Gemma thought. Maybe he was right and they’d just got off on the wrong foot. And Caroline had said she’d thought he’d fit in well with the team.

  The one thing that shocked her, though, was when Oliver had finally given her a genuine smile. It had completely transformed his face, turning him from that cool, austere stranger into someone absolutely gorgeous. His smile had made her heart beat a little bit too quickly for her liking.

  She couldn’t afford to let herself be attracted to their new locum. Quite apart from the fact that he might already be involved with someone else, she didn’t have a great track record. Even if you ignored that year of disastrous relationships and the following two years of not dating anyone at all while she concentrated on getting through her exams and putting herself back together, her love life ever since had been hopeless. All her relationships had fizzled out within a few weeks. She’d never met anyone that she’d felt really connected to, someone she really wanted to share her life with.

  Claire, her best friend, had a theory that it was because Gemma was so terrified of being needy and clingy, she went too far the other way and wouldn’t actually let anyone in.

  But it wasn’t about being needy or clingy. It was about trust. She’d loved her little sister and her parents. But her parents had shut off from her after Sarah’s death, lost in their grief, and Gemma had never been able to connect with them since. And maybe that was what was still holding her back, even after she’d had counselling: if she really loved someone and let them close, what if it all went wrong, the way it had with her parents, and they left her?

  So it was easier to keep her relationships short and sweet and avoid that risk completely. Make sure she was the one to leave, not them.

  * * *

  Gemma’s afternoon was a busy mixture of triage calls and surgery; after she’d finished writing up the notes from her last patient, she changed out of her uniform and drove to her parents’ house for her monthly duty visit. She wasn’t giving up on them, the way they’d given up on her. One day, she’d manage to get her family back. She just had to find the right key to unlock their hearts.

  ‘Aadya’s locum started at the surgery today,’ she said brightly.

  ‘Oh,’ her mum said.

  ‘He seems nice.’

  ‘That’s good,’ her dad said.

  The silence stretched out painfully until Gemma couldn’t take any more. ‘Shall I make us a cup of tea?’ she suggested.

  ‘If you like, love,’ her mum said.

  Putting the kettle on and sorting out mugs gave her five minutes of respite to think up some new topics of conversation. What her parents had been doing in the garden; the puppy Maddie was getting in a couple of weeks; how much sponsorship money she’d raised so far for the skydive. But it was such a struggle, when they gave anodyne responses every time. Her parents were the only people she knew who always gave a closed answer to an open question.

  How very different it was when she dropped in to see Claire’s mum. There was never any awkwardness or not knowing what to say next. Yvonne always greeted her with a hug, asked her how her d
ay was, and chatted to her about the classes she ran in the craft shop next to Claire’s bakery. Gemma had tried to persuade her own mum to go along to a class, thinking that she might enjoy the embroidery class or knitting, but she’d always been gently but firmly rebuffed. Her parents simply couldn’t bear to come back to the village they’d lived in when Sarah died; they visited once a month to put flowers on their daughter’s grave, but that was as much as they could manage.

  And they’d never, ever visited Gemma’s flat. She knew it was because they found it hard to face all the might-have-beens, but it still felt like another layer of rejection.

  After another hour of struggling to get her parents to talk to her, she did the washing up, kissed both parents’ cheeks, and drove home. Feeling too miserable to eat dinner, and knowing that a walk and the sound of the sea swishing against the shore would lift her mood, she headed to the beach to watch the changing colours in the sky.

  One day she’d break through to her parents again. And then she’d have the confidence to find someone to share her life with—someone who wouldn’t abandon her when things got tough—and it would ease the loneliness.

  But for now she’d focus on how lucky she was. She had good friends, a job she loved, and she lived in one of the nicest bits of the world. Maybe wanting more—wanting love—was just too greedy.

  * * *

  Ollie arrived home to find a note through his front door saying that a parcel had been delivered to his neighbour.

  When he’d collected it, he didn’t need to look at the card that came with it; only one person would send him a mini-hamper with seriously good cheese, olives, oatmeal crackers, and a bottle of good red wine. But he opened the card anyway.

  Hope your first day was great. If it wasn’t, you have my permission to scoff all the cheese. Otherwise, you’d better save me some for Thursday night or there will be Big Trouble.

  R

  He rang his twin. ‘Thank you for the parcel.’

  ‘My pleasure. It always made my day when I had a parcel in hospital, and I think a first day anywhere deserves a parcel.’ The smile in Rob’s voice was obvious. ‘So how did it go?’

  ‘OK,’ Ollie said.

  ‘Your colleagues are all nice?’

  ‘Yeah. Though I got off on the wrong foot with the nurse practitioner, to start with.’ Ollie explained his clash with Gemma.

  ‘Olls, I know Tabby hurt you—but don’t let that change the way you respond to anyone with two X chromosomes,’ Rob said softly.

  ‘I’m not responding at all. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone. It’s only been three and a half months since Tabby cancelled the wedding.’

  ‘I’m not telling you to rush in and sweep the next woman you meet off her feet. Just don’t close yourself off from potential happiness, that’s all,’ Rob advised.

  ‘Mmm,’ Ollie said, not wanting to fight with his twin. But thinking about Gemma Baxter unsettled him. That spark of attraction between them on the cliffs, when their hands had touched—he really hadn’t expected that. This three-month locum job was meant to give himself the space to get his head straight again. Starting a new relationship really wasn’t a good idea.

  ‘Be kind to yourself, Olls,’ Rob said. ‘And I’ll see you on Thursday.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE NEXT MORNING, when Gemma walked into the staff kitchen at the surgery, Oliver was already there.

  ‘Good morning. The kettle’s hot,’ he said, indicating his mug. ‘Can I make you a drink?’

  ‘Thank you. Coffee, with milk and no sugar, please,’ she said, smiling back.

  He gave her another of those smiles that made her pulse rocket, and she had to remind herself sharply that Oliver was her new colleague and off limits. Yes, he was attractive; but that didn’t mean he was available.

  After her triage calls that morning, Gemma was booked in for her weekly visit to the nursing home, where she was able to assess any particular resident the manager was concerned about, and carried on with their rolling programme of six-monthly wellbeing reviews to check every resident’s care plan and medication needs. Her path didn’t cross with Oliver’s again that day, and she was cross with herself for being disappointed. ‘He’s your colleague. No more, no less,’ she reminded herself yet again.

  At least she had her Tuesday dance aerobics class with Claire to take her mind off it. Or so she’d thought.

  ‘Your lunch date, yesterday,’ Claire said. ‘He looked nice.’

  ‘He’s my colleague—Aadya’s locum,’ Gemma said. ‘And it wasn’t a lunch date. Caroline asked me to help him settle in, that’s all.’

  ‘You went very pink when he said something to you in the bakery,’ Claire said. ‘And he looks like your type.’

  Gemma gave her a wry smile. ‘For all I know, he’s already involved with someone. We’re just colleagues.’

  ‘Hmm. Talking of colleagues, Andy’s got a new colleague. He’s single, and our age,’ Claire said. ‘Maybe you could both come over to dinner at the weekend.’

  Gemma hugged her. ‘Love you, Claire-bear, but I really don’t need you to find me a partner. I’m fine just as I am.’

  Though they both knew she wasn’t quite telling the truth.

  * * *

  On Wednesday morning, Gemma had an asthma clinic, and her first patient was booked in for a series of spirometry tests. Samantha was forty years old and a smoker, and had persistent breathlessness and a cough. Although at the last appointment Sam had said that she thought her cough was just a smoker’s cough, she’d also admitted that she seemed to get more and more chest infections over the winter and had started wheezing when she walked up the hill, so Gemma wanted to check if there was another lung condition such as asthma or COPD that was making Sam’s breathlessness worse.

  ‘This is going to help us get to the bottom of your breathlessness and your cough, Sam,’ she said, ‘so we can get you the right treatment to help you. Just to remind you what I said at the last appointment, I’m going to test your breathing through a spirometer to get a baseline, then give you some asthma medication, get you to sit in the waiting room while the medication takes effect, and run the test again to see if the medication makes a difference.’

  ‘I remembered to wear loose, comfortable clothing, like you said,’ Sam said. ‘I didn’t have even a single glass of wine last night, and I haven’t smoked for twenty-four hours. It was murder, last night—I really wanted just a quick cigarette—but Marty wouldn’t let me.’

  ‘Good,’ Gemma said with a smile. ‘How are your headaches?’

  ‘Not great,’ Sam admitted. ‘Do you think they’re something to do with my breathlessness?’

  ‘Very possibly,’ Gemma said. ‘Now, I just want to run through a checklist to make sure there isn’t anything else that might affect the results.’ She ran through the list with Sam, and to her relief there was nothing else.

  ‘Great. We’re ready to start. Are you sitting comfortably?’

  Sam nodded.

  ‘This is how I want you to breathe into the spirometer,’ Gemma said, and demonstrated. ‘I want you to breathe in and completely fill your lungs with air, close your lips tightly round the mouthpiece, and then blow very hard and fast. We’ll do that three times, and then a test where I want you to keep blowing until your lungs are completely empty. I’ll put a very soft clip on your nose to make sure all the air goes into the mouthpiece when you breathe out. Is that OK?’

  Sam nodded, and Gemma encouraged her through the tests.

  ‘Well done, that’s brilliant,’ she said. ‘Now I’m going to get you to take some asthma medication, and I’d like you to sit in the waiting room for about twenty minutes so it has a chance to open up your airways; then we’ll repeat the test and compare the results to each other.’

  ‘My mouth’s a bit dry,’ Sam said.

  ‘It’s fine t
o have a drink of water while you’re waiting,’ Gemma said.

  ‘Just not a cigarette?’ Sam asked wryly.

  ‘Exactly.’

  Gemma helped Sam to take the asthma medication, then saw her next patient for an asthma review while Sam’s medication took effect.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked when Sam came back into the room. ‘Has the medication made it easier to breathe?’

  ‘A bit,’ Sam said.

  ‘That’s good.’

  Once Gemma had done the second set of tests, she compared the two sets of graphs. ‘I’d just like to run these past one of the doctors first, if you don’t mind?’ she said.

  ‘Sure. Do you want me to go back to the waiting room?’ Sam asked.

  ‘No, it’s fine to wait here. He’ll be here in a minute.’ According to the roster, Oliver was the duty doctor this morning and was doing phone triage right now. Gemma sent him a note over the practice messaging system.

  Before your next call, please can we have a quick word about one of my patients? Did spirometry, but patient not responded as well as I hoped to bronchodilator meds—think we’re looking at COPD but would appreciate a second opinion.

  Within seconds, a message flashed back.

  Good timing—just finished call. Coming now.

  Gemma opened the door at his knock.

  ‘Sam, this is Dr Langley, who’s working here while Dr Devi’s on maternity leave,’ she said. ‘Dr Langley, this is Sam.’ She gave him a potted version of Sam’s patient history.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Sam,’ Oliver said. ‘So may I look at the graphs?’

  Gemma handed them over, and he checked them swiftly. ‘I agree with you,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Sam, this is what a normal pattern of breathing looks like for someone of your height, age, sex and ethnic group,’ Gemma said, showing Sam the graph on her computer. ‘And this is your pattern.’