by Kate Hardy
‘I know how lucky we were,’ he said quietly. ‘I had the chance to make a difference. And Rob’s doing OK.’
‘I’m glad.’
Ollie almost asked her to join them both for dinner, the following evening, but he didn’t want his twin getting the wrong idea. ‘Me, too.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I guess we need to be getting back.’
‘We do. I meant to mention this earlier, but are you busy on Friday evening?’
No, but he wasn’t going to commit himself to anything until he knew what she had in mind. ‘Why?’
‘There’s a pub quiz at The Anchor,’ she explained. ‘We normally field a team from the surgery. It starts at eight, but we’ve got a table booked to eat beforehand, if you’d like to join us.’
He really appreciated the fact she was trying to include him. ‘Thank you. I’d love to.’ He’d planned to spend Sunday with his family, but on Friday evening and Saturday he hadn’t really been sure what to do with himself. It would be good to get to know his team a bit better.
‘Great. Our table’s booked for half-past six. The menu’s small but I’d recommend absolutely everything on it. Everything’s sourced as locally as possible.’
‘Sounds good,’ Ollie said. ‘Count me in.’ He took his phone from his pocket. ‘What’s your number? I’ll text you so you’ll have mine. And then you can text me back with the link to your fundraising page.’
‘Thanks.’ She recited her number, and he tapped it into his phone and sent her a text; a few seconds later, he heard a ‘ping’.
‘Got it,’ she said.
And funny how her smile made the bright, sunny day feel even more sparkly.
CHAPTER FOUR
ON THURSDAY, OLLIE didn’t see Gemma at the practice; according to Maddie, Gemma usually had Thursdays off. But he enjoyed showing his twin round the village that evening after dinner.
‘What a view,’ Rob said from the cliffs. ‘I can see why you moved here, Olls. And you said they do kite-surfing in the bay? Fantastic. When can I book a session?’
Ollie cuffed his arm. ‘No adventure stuff until your consultant says it’s OK.’
‘Just one tiny little session?’ Rob wheedled. ‘Half an hour—thirty teeny, tiny minutes?’
Ollie shook his head. ‘Nope. And if you won’t listen to me, I might have to casually mention to Mum that Rob the Risk-Taker is back.’
Rob groaned. ‘Please don’t. You know I love Mum dearly, and I know that she and Dad were worried sick about me when I was ill, but I really can’t take much more of the cotton wool treatment. Neither could you,’ he pointed out, ‘or you wouldn’t have escaped here.’
‘True,’ Ollie admitted.
‘I want to escape, too. I’ve got an interview next week.’
Ollie stared at his twin in surprise. ‘You’re going back to Manchester already?’
‘No. It’s local—the hospital down the road. You know I’d taken that six months off to join the humanitarian aid team; as I’ve spent most of that time stuck in hospital or recovering, my boss has agreed to extend my sabbatical.’
Ollie felt his eyes widen. ‘Please tell me you’re not going back to an earthquake zone or what have you.’
‘No. Apart from the fact that I have a gazillion hospital appointments, even I’m not that stupid,’ Rob said. ‘I’m hoping to get a part-time post at the hospital here for the next few months, until my consultant’s happy with my recovery.’
‘And then you’ll go back to Manchester?’
‘Yes. I’m desperate to go climbing again,’ Rob said, ‘but I promise I’m not going to do anything that will set my recovery back.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Ollie said dryly. ‘Though I’m not entirely convinced.’
‘Seriously, Olls. If I have a setback, I’ll be stuck sitting around recovering for even longer. That’s not going to help my itchy feet. I don’t want to give Mum more excuses to smother me. And, most importantly, I don’t want to worry Dad to the point where his angina flares up,’ Rob said. ‘I couldn’t live with myself if he got ill again because of me.’
‘Now that,’ Ollie said, ‘convinces me.’
‘Good.’ Rob smiled. ‘So how are you getting on with your nurse practitioner?’
‘I’m getting on fine with all my colleagues,’ Ollie said.
‘Meaning you like her and you don’t want to admit it.’
‘She’s my colleague, Rob. My temporary colleague. It’s not a great idea. If we get together and it goes wrong, it’ll be awkward at work. We’re just going to be friends.’
‘You wouldn’t let it be awkward because you’re a total professional and you put your patients first,’ Rob said. ‘And there’s also no reason why it should go wrong. And, as you said, it’s temporary—so why not let yourself be happy while you’re here?’
‘It’s too soon.’
‘It’s nearly four months. To me, you’re on the verge of wallowing—and I can be that harsh because you’re my brother and I love you too much to let you carry on being miserable.’ Rob shook his head. ‘Tabby really hurt you, I know, but the best way to get over a break-up is to meet someone else.’
‘That’s cynical, Rob.’
‘It’s a fact, little brother,’ Rob said lightly. ‘Maybe your nurse practitioner would be good for you.’
‘I’m not a user, Rob.’
Rob frowned, ‘Of course you’re not. What I’m trying to say, in my very clumsy way, is that you’ve had a rough few months. And you’re here for the next three months. Spending a little time with someone you like, getting to know each other and having a bit of fun—it might help you move on. Don’t let what happened with Tabby put you off dating anyone else.’
‘You’re not dating anyone, either,’ Ollie pointed out.
‘Because I’m still recovering from major surgery.’
Ollie just looked at his brother.
‘All right. I like the thrill of the chase and I haven’t met anyone who’s made me want to settle down. Even though we’re practically identical, I’m wired differently from you, Ollie. You can settle. I have itchy feet. And I admit, I get bored easily.’ Rob sighed. ‘Perhaps it’s true about there being a good twin and a bad twin. You’re the good one.’
‘You’re not the “bad twin” at all, Rob. We just want different things.’
‘I’m sorry that I caused your break-up with Tabby...’
‘You didn’t cause the break-up,’ Ollie said.
‘Look at it logically. It was my fault. If my kidneys hadn’t failed, you wouldn’t have suggested moving your wedding day and it wouldn’t have escalated into—well, cancelling it. Though I still think the reason she gave you for calling it off was seriously weak.’
‘She grew up seeing her mum put her life on hold for her dad, and she didn’t want that kind of future for herself. I can understand that,’ Ollie said, ‘even if I don’t think I would’ve given her that kind of future.’
‘Maybe you had a lucky escape,’ Rob said. ‘Because if the going got tough she wouldn’t have stuck it out.’
Or maybe he just wasn’t enough for anyone, Ollie thought.
‘You’ve got your brooding face on. Stop,’ Rob said.
‘Sorry. I really thought she was the right one. Which makes me pretty hopeless at judging people,’ Ollie said.
Rob clapped his shoulder. ‘Actually, it makes you human. Everyone makes mistakes. Just don’t close yourself off.’
‘Be more Rob, and take a risk?’ Ollie asked wryly.
‘Just as I’m going to try to be more Ollie, and be sensible,’ Rob said. ‘So, between us, we can be the best we can be. Deal?’
Ollie thought about it. Be more like his twin. Take risks. The idea put him into a cold sweat; over the years, Rob had taken more than enough risks for both of them.
‘Olls,’
Rob said softly. ‘It’ll do both of us good.’
Put like that, how could he refuse? ‘Deal.’
* * *
On Friday morning, Ollie arrived at the surgery to discover a tray of individually wrapped brownies, lemon cake and oatmeal cookies on one of the low tables, with a plastic jar labelled ‘Donations’ beside them and a folded card announcing ‘Gemma’s Friday Fundraisers are back!’
Clearly this was what his colleague had spent her day off doing. Baking.
There was another card on the tray, listing the ingredients in each recipe with the potential allergens highlighted in bold.
Smiling, he picked up a cookie and some lemon cake, and dropped some money into her box.
‘What’s this—buying cake?’ Gemma teased, walking into the reception area. ‘I thought you weren’t a cake person?’
‘I’m not. I’m buying this for my next-door neighbours,’ he said. ‘I thought they might like a Friday treat.’
‘That’s kind of you.’
‘They’ve kept an eye out for me since I moved in. It’s the least I can do,’ he said.
‘Are you still OK for the quiz team tonight?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Good. See you there. Triage awaits,’ she said with a smile.
* * *
Midway through the morning, Ollie was just writing up his notes when Maddie, the receptionist, burst into his room. ‘Dr Langley, help! One of our patients has just collapsed in the waiting room.’
‘I’m coming,’ Ollie said, grabbing his stethoscope. ‘Did you see what happened?’
‘No. I was helping a patient when someone else in the waiting room screamed and I saw Mrs Henderson on the floor. Apparently she just fell off her chair.’
There were three main causes of collapse: fainting, seizures and heart problems. Given that Maddie hadn’t mentioned Mrs Henderson’s shaking limbs, it was likely to be fainting or a cardiac issue. ‘Get the defibrillator,’ he said, ‘find out if anyone saw her hit her head, and I might need you to call an ambulance—and manage the patients in the waiting room, please, so we can give her a bit of privacy.’
‘Got it,’ Maddie said.
The middle-aged woman was still lying on the floor when they went into the reception area.
‘Can you hear me, Mrs Henderson?’ Ollie asked loudly, shaking her shoulder as he knelt beside her.
There was no response.
He tilted her head back to clear her airway.
‘I’ve got the defib and she didn’t hit her head,’ Gemma said, joining him. ‘The patient next to her said she just collapsed.’
‘Do you by any chance know her medical history?’
‘Yes. Nicole Henderson has high blood pressure—she’s actually due for a check with me, this morning, because the last two medications I’ve tried with her haven’t worked, and she had a bad reaction to beta blockers.’
This was sounding more and more like a cardiac event. ‘Her airway’s clear but she’s not breathing,’ he said. ‘I’ll start CPR. Can you turn the defib—’
‘Already done,’ she cut in. ‘I’ll do the sticky pads. Maddie’s got everyone outside so we’re good to go. I’ll call the ambulance, too.’
She placed the pads on each side of Mrs Henderson’s chest. He stopped doing CPR so the machine could analyse Mrs Henderson’s heart rhythm. The recorded voice on the defibrillator informed them it was administering a shock, then told him, when it had no effect, to continue CPR.
Gemma had got through to the emergency services. ‘The ambulance is on its way,’ she said.
Between them, they kept going with chest compressions and breathing, stopping only when the defibrillator’s recorded voice told them it needed to check the patient’s heart rhythm.
By the time the paramedics arrived and loaded her into the ambulance, Nicole Henderson still hadn’t regained consciousness.
‘This isn’t looking great,’ Ollie said wearily. ‘Poor woman. Hopefully they’ll get her heart restarted on the way in to hospital.’
They both knew that the longer it took to restart the heart, the worse the prognosis. And, given that Gemma’s sister had died from a heart condition, Ollie knew this must be tough for her. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘I just feel I’ve let my patient down.’
‘You couldn’t have predicted this,’ he said. ‘And we did our best here. In some ways, this is the best place she could’ve collapsed, because we have a defib and enough knowledge between us to give her the right help.’
‘I know. It’s just...’ She grimaced.
He reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘You had the defib switched on and the pads ready almost before I could ask. Nobody could’ve done more. And she might be fine.’
Except the hospital called later that afternoon to say that Nicole Henderson hadn’t made it.
He typed Got a minute? on the practice messaging system and sent it to Gemma.
Yes.
Ollie made her a mug of coffee and rapped on her door. ‘Sorry, it’s not good news. She didn’t make it.’
Gemma sighed. ‘Poor woman. She was the head of the local junior school. She wasn’t popular—let’s just say her predecessor was very different and everyone was upset when she retired, because she always fought for the kids and she was great with the parents and teachers—but even so I don’t think anyone would actually wish her dead.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ he said. ‘I reviewed her notes when I wrote up what happened, and I would’ve treated her the way you did.’
‘If only she hadn’t rescheduled her appointment from last week.’
‘It might still have happened, and it might’ve been somewhere that didn’t have a defib.’
‘I suppose so. Thank you for being kind.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I have referrals to write up and I’m guessing you have paperwork, too. So I won’t hold you up. But I appreciate the coffee.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He paused. ‘I don’t mean this to sound as tactless as it does, but will the quiz tonight be cancelled?’
She shook her head. ‘I think, if anything, we need a reminder that there’s a bright side to life. And that’s not meant to sound callous.’
Gemma Baxter wasn’t anything remotely approaching callous, he thought. ‘OK. I’ll see you later.’
* * *
The pub where Ollie had arranged to meet Gemma and the team was only a few minutes’ walk from his cottage; when he arrived, the rest of his team was already there, and Gemma stood up to wave to him.
He hadn’t seen her out of her uniform before; her faded jeans hugged her curves, and her hair was loose rather than tied back as she wore it for work. Yet again, he was struck by how pretty she was, and it almost made him tongue-tied. Which was crazy. He wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone. Yet his twin’s words echoed in his head.
‘Spending a little time with someone you like, getting to know each other and having a bit of fun—it might help you move on.’
He made his way over to their table.
‘Time for introductions,’ Gemma said. ‘Everyone, this is Oliver—he’s Aadya’s locum for the next three months.’ She swiftly introduced him to the people round the table he hadn’t yet met.
‘Hello, everyone.’ He smiled. ‘Can I get anyone a drink?’
‘No, we’re all sorted,’ Kyle, one of the other practice doctors, said, smiling back. ‘I heard about Nicole Henderson. You’ve had a bit of a rough start to your time with us.’
‘I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more,’ Ollie said. ‘I hope it’s not going to worry Aadya Devi’s patients, the idea of having to see me when I’ve already lost a patient.’
‘You and Gemma did everything you could,’ Kyle said. ‘Nobody’s going to blame you.’
Ollie nodded his thanks. But the
time he’d sorted out a pint and ordered his food, he was chatting with the others as if he’d always known them.
The quiz turned out to be great fun; although he was woefully inadequate on the local history round, he managed to get a couple of the musical intros that the others couldn’t remember, as well as a really obscure geography question.
‘How on earth did you know that?’ Maddie asked.
‘My twin’s a climber,’ Ollie said. ‘He’s the adventurous one; I’m the one with common sense.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with having two feet on the ground,’ Kyle said. ‘As I would dearly love to tell every single holidaymaker here who tries one of the water activities for the first time and tries to keep up with people who do it all the time, and ends up with a sprain or a strains or a fracture,’ he added ruefully.
‘Rob—my twin—got a bit excited about the idea of kite-surfing,’ Oliver said. ‘But he’s having to be more me at the moment. He’s recovering from a kidney transplant.’
‘Ouch. That sounds nasty,’ Fayola, their midwife, said. ‘What happened?’
‘Burst appendix followed by blood poisoning, and it wiped out his kidneys. He was helping with the aftermath of an earthquake at the time,’ Ollie explained.
‘Oh, now that’s unfair,’ Lakshmi, their pharmacist, said, sounding sympathetic. ‘Poor guy.’
‘He’s doing well now,’ Ollie said. ‘But that’s why I moved up here from London for a while, to support him and our parents.’
He caught Gemma’s raised eyebrow; but he wasn’t comfortable putting himself in the role of hero. Anyone would’ve done the same, in his shoes. Nobody else needed to know that he’d been the living kidney donor.
In the end, their team came second.
‘And if anyone hasn’t sponsored our Gemma for the skydive,’ the quizmaster said, ‘come and see us at the bar, because we’ve got a sponsorship form right here. And there’s a collecting tin if you’ve got any spare change.’