Best Practice

by Penny Parkes

  Taffy sat frozen, absolutely drenched, cola frothing all down his face, his eyes wide in disbelief. He blinked and then the laughter began. ‘You utter bastard,’ he managed, swiping away the foam from his eyes and unable to stop laughing, partly as a nervous response to the complete shock of the ‘explosion’.

  It took both of them a moment to realise that Taffy wasn’t the only one covered in froth. Holly scooped the brown foam from her hair and flicked it away, shaking the silk of her ‘posh frock’ until the foam rolled down to the ground. She looked at Dan and raised one eyebrow as he quailed in anticipation of a major bollocking.

  ‘You, Daniel Carter, are just very lucky my chips are still dry,’ said Holly, with feeling, reaching over to help herself to a handful from the basket.

  Taffy laughed louder still at the discombobulated look on Dan’s face at Holly’s unexpected reaction. He threw an arm around his fiancée’s sodden shoulders with pride. ‘Told you she was a keeper.’

  Despite the slight stickiness that now seemed to accompany her every move, Holly couldn’t remember having enjoyed an impromptu evening out more. Their table soon swelled with friends and neighbours dropping by for a chat and a drink. Of course, it was inevitable that another round of Cola Coolers had been ordered, just to demonstrate their tremendous power when extra Mentoed ice cubes were applied.

  As Jason, their exuberantly bisexual, triathlete nurse, attempted his own version in his mouth, Holly had a feeling that they were having an awful lot more fun than any amount of silver-service fancification could provide and could only wish that Elsie were there to share it.

  ‘Oh, by the way,’ said Jason, his eyes still watering following his discovery that Diet Coke rather exacerbated the reaction, carrying a sting in its tail if taken orally, ‘you owe me a tenner, Dan. Mr and Mrs Greaves called it a day and their house is on the market.’

  Dan frowned and pulled a ten-pound note from his wallet without hesitation. ‘Shame.’

  Holly leaned forward. ‘And are we betting on the housing market or the divorce rate?’

  Jason looked a bit shifty, his eyes flickering to Dan for moral support. ‘Well, you know all the arguments in the waiting room—’ He hesitated, clearly unsure how much he was supposed to be giving away.

  Holly looked around the table, as Dan, Taffy and Jason all fell silent.

  ‘Are there lots of arguments in the waiting room then? Other than with idiots like Jarley?’ she asked, uncomfortably aware that she might just be missing something going on under her very nose.

  Jason nodded. ‘More than I’m comfortable with anyway, but then it’s often couples who arrive together who start having a go. They’re the worst actually. Sometimes it’s just nerves, sometimes we get to predict the next divorce . . .’ He blushed, caught out in one of the games he and the nursing team liked to play. He certainly wasn’t letting on that there was a chart on their noticeboard running odds on likely candidates.

  Taffy grinned. ‘I think we’re busted.’

  ‘You certainly are!’ exclaimed Holly. ‘How did I not know about this?’ she asked indignantly. ‘Can I put twenty quid down that the Lightlys will be finished by Christmas?’

  Dan shook his head. ‘You can, but I’ve got thirty that says Halloween.’

  It wasn’t exactly professional or discreet, but the four of them bantered happily about which cottages in Larkford might soon be on the market; death, divorce and bankruptcy still being the primary motivators for a sale in this desirable market town. Nobody, it seemed, ever willingly sold up once they’d got their foot on the Larkford property ladder; indeed most of the best houses were simply referred to as hand-me-downs around here.

  Cassie Holland walked over with purpose, only to hover uncomfortably beside Holly, as though unwilling to interrupt their evening. ‘Holly?’ she said eventually. ‘Dr Graham? Might I have a word?’

  Holly stood up, peeling her dress off the bench where the cola foam had somehow solidified to a paste. It was incentive enough not to give her children cola to drink ever again!

  ‘Hi, Cassie. Are you okay?’ Holly said, guiding her away from their noisy group to a quieter spot.

  ‘Well, it’s just, I’m booked in to see you in the morning, but I don’t think I can cope with another night!’ Cassie blurted out. ‘I’m in such pain. Can you give me something?’

  Holly blinked hard; for Cassie Holland to knowingly request pharmaceuticals rather than obscure herbal remedies was almost unheard of.

  ‘And when I say I’m in pain,’ Cassie barrelled on, ‘paracetamol doesn’t touch it. It feels like it’s inside my bones, inside my muscles, gnawing away.’

  ‘Beaver pain,’ Holly suggested, the double entendre completely eluding her, until she saw the shocked expression on Cassie’s face.

  ‘Well,’ said Cassie, caught unawares, ‘I wouldn’t have put it quite like that, and you’re a little off geographically, but yes!’

  ‘If it’s that severe, Cassie, we really ought to get you over to the out-of-hours so they can do a full exam. I’m a little reluctant to prescribe something stronger until we know what we’re dealing with.’ All sorts of scenarios were running through her mind, but sudden-onset pain was normally a warning sign that shouldn’t be ignored.

  ‘And when did this start?’ Holly asked gently.

  Cassie glanced down at her watch. ‘Ooh I’d say six, maybe seven weeks ago now.’

  ‘Weeks!’ exclaimed Holly, blindsided.

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Cassie, unfazed. ‘That’s when I started doing the Couch-to-5k.’

  Holly took a deep breath, trying to convince her adrenalin to stand down; she’d been moments away from leaping in the car and driving Cassie into Bath herself. ‘And it’s your muscles and joints that hurt? Just your muscles and joints? Not in your abdomen or anywhere else?’

  ‘Isn’t that enough?’ said Cassie plaintively, seemingly disappointed by Holly’s change in demeanour and certainly not placated by the suggestion of some ibuprofen and a warm bath of Epsom salts.

  Holly rejoined the group to find their conversation had taken a rather more obtuse turn.

  ‘Well,’ said Jason, casting his eye around the pub garden speculatively, ‘I guess I’d murder Cassie Holland, easy that one, mangle old man Jarley and—’

  ‘Did I miss something?’ Holly asked easily, sliding in beside Taffy, his arm automatically encircling her waist.

  ‘Murder, mangle, malaise,’ Taffy said, as though that explained everything.

  ‘Right,’ said Holly, mentally flicking through the patients she’d seen that week for likely candidates. It was probably just as well their table was a little removed from the bustle of the pub garden on this sultry evening. It was fair to say that weeks of unbroken sunshine hadn’t actually brought out the best in some of their patients.

  She fanned herself with Teddy’s fancy cocktail menu and breathed out slowly, allowing the banter to flow around her and make her smile; calm, comfortable and content to be an observer on this round.

  She frowned as the first tiny droplets of water landed on her forehead, looking up in confusion to the cloudless, twilit sky.

  A cheer went up from the bar as Teddy called for everyone’s attention. ‘You’ll thank me for this!’ he cried, throwing out an arm to encompass the whole garden. ‘Bringing a little slice of Italy to Larkford!’

  His waiting staff emerged from the kitchen in convoy, bearing huge platters of crisp, delicious pizzas piled high with rocket and basil.

  The barman gave a drum roll on the counter top and Teddy ceremoniously turned on the tap to its full setting. It only took a moment for the tiny droplets to become a deluge, the holes punctured in the hosepipes forcing water out in multi-directional jets, blasting into people’s drinks, faces and hair. Hardly the gentle cooling mist he’d been aiming for.

  Holly jumped as a spurt caught her shoulders, everyone around her leaping to their feet and the promotional pizzas already swimming. She paused and looked around her,
as some ran for cover, others stomped angrily off into the Market Place, but her friends, her true soulmates, remained beside her, twirling in the impromptu fountains and shrieking with laughter.

  Taffy caught her in his arms and spun her around. ‘At least it’s rinsed off all the Coke,’ he said with a grin, before weaving his hands through her hair and kissing her longingly.

  ‘I love kissing you in the rain,’ she whispered, her penchant for thunderstorm nookie well established in their relationship.

  He raised one eyebrow. ‘Well, I do aim to please.’

  ‘Get a room, you two!’ catcalled Dan through the deluge.

  ‘The man does make a valid point,’ said Holly, curling her fingers through Taffy’s and giving him a gentle tug homewards. ‘We’ve got at least an hour before picking up Elsie.’

  ‘An hour?’ heckled Dan. ‘Hey, Taffs, it sounds like all that interval training’s really paying off.’

  Chapter 18

  Alice thanked God for the little dog sitting at her side for the millionth time the next day. As Coco alerted by pawing at her thigh, Alice realised that, in the hustle and bustle of the busy afternoon clinic, the insidious symptoms of a hyper had been gradually creeping up on her. She blinked hard and her heart rate ratcheted up a notch when she saw the readings from the tiny drop of blood that she squeezed from her finger on autopilot. She quickly calibrated her insulin dose accordingly and scruffed Coco behind the ears in praise. It still amazed her that Coco preferred this to any of the other rewards that Jamie advised.

  She rested her head on her desk and breathed slowly, allowing the wonder drug to work its magic on her broken system. Some people craved a different nose or a different haircut – both easily achieved with a little pain or a little expense. But a new pancreas, or a new immune system? If wishes were horses, she sighed.

  She was tired, so tired of always being on her guard, never able to truly relax. At least she was no longer on the constant symptomatic rollercoaster of guesswork and stress; Coco had brought a little calm and control to the proceedings. But what she would give to sleep all through the night without the bleary-eyed night-time rituals dictated by her blood sugar. At least Tilly had been online last night with tales of her latest Mrs Robinson exploits to keep her entertained. Slightly shocked, but definitely entertained!

  Alice started at the gentle knock on her door, barely having time to compose herself before Grace walked into the room. ‘Oh my darling girl,’ she said, clearly not missing a trick, ‘what are you doing in here all by yourself?’

  Before Alice could protest, she’d been swept up into a nononsense hug. She noticed that Coco instantly lay down and rested her head on her paws as though to say, ‘Thank God the reinforcements have arrived.’

  ‘Are you all sorted with this little lot?’ Grace asked, nodding towards the insulin kit lying open on Alice’s desk.

  ‘Yeah,’ managed Alice, still struggling to find her composure. Every time she was close, she would see the affection and concern in Grace’s eyes and she’d feel it slipping further away.

  ‘Then let’s get out of here for the day, shall we? Come to The Deli with me and I can tell you all about the dishy pilot I met the other day.’ She dangled the anecdote as incentive, as though knocking off work early might not be enough.

  ‘But I’ve still got one patient to see,’ Alice protested.

  Grace shook her head. ‘We thought you’d just overrun so Taffy took Mr Larch for his asthma review. What’s the betting he’s still a stealth smoker, eh?’

  Grace hovered as Alice gathered her stuff together. She could only be grateful, Alice supposed, that it was Grace who had stumbled upon her self-pity-fest. It was hardly the confident, together demeanour upon which she prided herself at work.

  Stepping out into the late-afternoon sunshine, Alice squinted against the light and pulled her sunglasses from her bag. Win-win, she thought, grateful for a little distance.

  ‘Too late in the day for a frothy cappuccino?’ offered Grace, as they walked across the Market Place, which was already beginning to fill with pallid office workers seeking out a little daylight after a day staring at a computer screen. They nabbed a spare table outside The Deli the moment it became free and Grace quickly scanned the menu card.

  ‘I’ll get these,’ Alice offered automatically, reaching for her purse, before remembering that she’d be lucky to find a fiver lurking in there this week. She faltered, wondering whether the hole in the wall would deign to deliver any cash when she was already teetering around her credit limit.

  Grace didn’t miss a beat, and certainly didn’t let on that she’d seen Alice’s hesitation. ‘You most certainly will not. I’ve brought you out to cheer you up. And you’ve earned it, after organising that fabulous training session yesterday. I think we’re all feeling a little more confident and informed. So these are on me.’

  ‘A decaf cappuccino with lots of foam would be perfect then, thank you,’ said Alice appreciatively.

  She barely had time to collect her thoughts and have a little chat with Coco before Grace was back with a tray.

  ‘Here we go. And I ordered some sweet potato wedges and olives and whatnot for us to nibble on – I hope that’s okay? I managed to miss lunch today, what with trying to find out the extent of Derek Landers’ evil plans for world domination. Dan’s on a mission to get all the facts before we make a plan and it’s like pulling at a ball of wool . . .’

  The wedges arrived, steaming hot and crispy with sea salt, and Alice felt her mouth water. She took one bite and savoured the contrast of salty and sweet before looking up to find Grace watching her astutely. She felt a bit of a muppet then, because Grace was clearly mothering her.

  ‘Aren’t you going to have any?’ Alice asked. ‘Or is this care in the community?’

  Grace grinned and plucked the largest, juiciest wedge from the basket. ‘Of course I am, and of course it’s not. We are allowed to look out for you a little though, Alice.’

  They sipped their drinks quietly for a moment until Grace could no longer resist. ‘So about this pilot—’

  Alice laughed. ‘If you like him so much, why don’t you call him? I’m pretty sure we can rustle up a number for HQ quite easily.’

  ‘Oh it wasn’t me I was shopping for! Why would he be interested in me?’ Grace protested. ‘I thought he’d be perfect for you actually. Very easy on the eye, equally demanding job, seemed to have all the right bits in all the right places . . . If you know what I mean?’

  ‘Grace!’

  ‘Well actually, I thought he looked kind. And you know kind and thoughtful is the new sexy.’

  ‘Is it now?’ replied Alice. ‘Then you should definitely call him yourself. Would be a shame to let a good one go to waste. Or tell Lucy – her fascination with men in uniform is quite something. You’ll only need to say the word “pilot” and she’ll sign up.’

  ‘But you—?’

  Alice shook her head. ‘Not for me. I’ve got too much else to think about right now.’

  ‘Of course you have,’ Grace backtracked instantly. ‘All this extra training for Coco and decisions to be made.’ She dropped her voice. ‘Not to mention, it must be hard living on a junior doctor’s salary around here.’

  So much for quiet discretion, thought Alice grumpily, annoyed to have been rumbled. Although Grace did make a valid point – all the holidaymakers and London weekenders had seemingly pushed up the price of everything this summer. The much-promised heatwave had gradually arrived and as the temperatures had risen, so had the cost of living.

  Grace continued, her tone soft and confiding, and for a moment Alice was sorely tempted to tell her everything. Tilly’s voice was in her head, urging her to take the leap—

  Thankfully common sense prevailed.

  ‘If you’re finding it hard though, Alice, with the rent and the bills – I do know what it’s like to run a household on one salary and I’d be only too glad to have a chat – see if we can trim a little here and
there to make it easier?’

  It was a kind suggestion, a thoughtful, generous offer, but Alice could immediately feel the prickle of anxiety that assailed her every time she let anybody get too close. And how much closer could one get, than poring over her monthly outgoings? Indeed, what would Grace think if she could actually see her credit card statements and bank accounts? There would be nowhere to hide then.

  She somehow didn’t think that switching tariffs on her heating bill would be quite enough at this point.

  ‘You are so kind, Grace, but I’m good. Really.’

  She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d sounded half as unconvincing as she felt.

  ‘No problem,’ said Grace easily. ‘I’m here if you need me though. But don’t wait too long on your pilot fella though—’

  ‘Your pilot, you mean,’ countered Alice with a relieved smile that they were back on solid ground.

  Sometimes spending time with Grace could feel like slipping into a warm bath, easing your muscles at the end of a long day and just letting go.

  Today was not one of those days, thought Alice sadly. Ever since the topic of money had cropped up earlier on, she had felt under scrutiny, as though Grace were noticing every single nuance of their conversation and judging her. Even when Grace had complimented her on her new bracelet, Alice had felt that nauseated flip-flop of shame that came from attempting to justify the purchase. Of course, the more she tried to do so, the less pleasure the band of rose gold brought her, the initial rush she’d felt on its arrival already faded.

  The irony being that Grace wasn’t pushing her to explain herself; it had been a genuine compliment. It was merely Alice’s guilty conscience that needed no accuser.

  When Jamie Yardley came ambling across the Market Place towards them, Alice quickly made sure her sunglasses were wedged firmly in place, managing a wave and a smile. She had no desire for him to see her looking, or indeed feeling, this fragile.