Caroline Anderson, Sara Morgan, Josie Metcalfe, Jennifer Taylor

by Brides of Penhally Bay Vol. 01 (lit)

  ‘Well, if you’re sure they won’t mind—I’ll do the clinic, of course.’ She gave what she hoped was a casual smile. ‘It will be fine.’ Fine. Fine. Fine. She was a trained professional. She could deliver whatever medical care was required of her.

  She could do antenatal.

  She could switch off. Shut down her feelings. Wasn’t that what she’d done for the past two years?

  ‘Good.’ Nick’s eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer and then he turned back to Marco. ‘So that’s decided, then. I’ll tell Kate and she can inform the patients. Good news. Thanks, Amy. A timely arrival on your part if ever there was one. Lucky for us.’

  Not lucky, Amy thought miserably, biting her lip so hard that she tasted blood. Not lucky at all.

  ‘All right, so what the hell is happening between you and Amy? Is this happy ever after?’ Nick hooked his hands behind his head and rocked back on his chair. ‘Are the two of you back together?’

  Marco lounged in the chair opposite, his expression guarded. ‘Are you asking as my friend or my colleague?’

  ‘What difference does it make? It’s a simple yes or no answer.’

  ‘We’re not back together again…’ Marco paused. ‘Yet.’

  ‘But you’re working on it. It’s what you want, obviously.’ Nick made an impatient sound. ‘What about Amy? The two of you were good together. What the hell is going on? I never really understood why she left in the first place.’

  Marco kept his response factual. ‘Apparently she wanted a career instead of children.’

  ‘Amy?’ Nick looked at him in disbelief. ‘That doesn’t sound right. She was very excited about starting a family. I remember catching her staring at a baby outfit in a shop window one day. She went a deep shade of scarlet but she had that look in her eyes. That look that warns you to go out and buy a people carrier.’

  Marco didn’t laugh. ‘Well, the look has disappeared. It isn’t what she wants any more. She doesn’t want babies and she doesn’t want me.’

  ‘I wonder why not.’

  ‘She doesn’t love me enough.’ Marco gave what he hoped passed as a casual shrug. ‘It happens.’

  Nick laughed with genuine amusement. ‘But not to you. Women always love you. It’s the accent and the dark, brooding eyes. Come on, Marco! What’s the matter with you? Amy loves you! Anyone can see that. She isn’t a woman who is fickle in her affections! She’s a one-man woman and you’re that man. You always have been.’

  ‘Apparently not.’ Feeling suddenly irritable, Marco rose to his feet. ‘Was there anything else we needed to talk about? Because my love life has run its course as a topic of conversation.’

  ‘How’s the car? Did you get the Maserati fixed?’

  ‘Yesterday. Kate arranged it.’

  The change in Nick’s expression was barely perceptible. ‘She’s a wonderfully efficient practice manager.’

  And she was willing to be a great deal more if Nick would only give her some encouragement, Marco thought, wondering if his colleague was truly as obtuse about Kate’s feelings as he pretended to be. Or was it much more complicated than that? Was he still churned up and guilty about the death of his wife? Unable to commit to anyone else?

  Marco gave a mental shrug and decided not to pursue the subject. He had enough problems of his own in that department and he certainly wasn’t in a position to lecture other people on how to run their love lives. ‘I’ve put Amy in Lucy’s consulting room. I assume that’s all right with you.’

  ‘As long as she’s seeing patients I don’t care if she’s doing it from the toilet,’ Nick drawled. Then he leaned forward. ‘Any idea why she was so reluctant to run the antenatal clinic?’

  ‘She doesn’t really want to be here at all.’ Marco gave a grim smile. ‘I used some psychological leverage to get us a doctor for a few weeks. She’s here under duress, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Well, I guessed that.’ Nick frowned and tapped his pen on the desk. ‘But I had a feeling that there might be something more going on. She looked…distraught at the thought of doing that clinic. Pale. Ill. Maybe she’s just tired.’

  Marco felt a flicker of unease. ‘Yes, I think something is wrong, too. That’s why I want her to stay. Once I find out what it is and help her solve it, I’ll let her go. Perhaps the problem is just that she wants to be as far away from me as is humanly possible.’

  ‘It could be that. But she’s a woman…’ Nick flicked the switch on his computer ‘…which also means that it’s likely to be something a million times more complicated than that. Watch her, Marco. There’s something going on. Just don’t let your personal life affect the practice.’

  Marco tensed and his voice was a low growl. ‘I don’t need that lecture from you.’

  ‘Good.’ Nick gave a cool smile. ‘Then I won’t give it.’

  ‘He’s getting these headaches,’ the woman said, pulling the little boy onto her lap. ‘Always behind the left eye and he says it’s like a drilling pain.’

  Amy glanced at the child’s notes, checking that there was nothing in his history that she should know about. ‘And what’s he like when he gets the headache, Sue? Can he still play or does he have to go and lie down?’

  ‘I give him paracetamol syrup and he lies down. Then he’s generally up and playing within about an hour and a half. The syrup works really well.’

  Amy turned to the child. ‘And when you have your bad headache, Harry, do you feel sick?’

  ‘Sometimes I feel a bit churny in my stomach.’

  ‘A bit churny.’ Smiling at the description, Amy gave a sympathetic nod. ‘Are you actually sick?’

  ‘No, but when it happens at school they give me a bowl, just in case.’

  Amy looked at Sue. ‘And how long has he been getting headaches?’

  ‘It’s hard to say.’ Sue bit her lip. ‘I mean, children get headaches, don’t they, so I didn’t really think about it at first. Then it became more frequent and when he gets them he’s sobbing and crying and it’s quite scary. And I started to think—I mean—you’re going to think I’m completely paranoid. A headache is just a headache isn’t it? It’s just that—’ She broke off and glanced at the boy, clearly concerned about saying too much in front of him.

  Amy leaned forward and wrote on a piece of paper. Then she leaned forward and gave it to the child. ‘Harry, would you be kind enough to take this to the lady behind Reception for me? And then come back here. Thank you, sweetheart. That’s really helpful.’

  Eager to please, Harry left the room and Amy turned to the mother. ‘I sense that there are things that you don’t want to say in front of him.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to worry him. And I’m probably just being paranoid but it’s hard not to be with my history. I was diagnosed with bowel cancer two years ago and everyone told me that it couldn’t possibly be anything serious. And then it was. I’ve had chemo and operations and—well, it’s been really, really hard. And it makes you realise that things go wrong. People say, “Oh, it won’t be anything,” but that’s what they said about me and they were wrong. It was something. And when that happens you can’t just look at a headache and think headache, can you? I try and do that and all the time I’m thinking brain tumour.’

  ‘You’re not alone in that and you have more reason than most to worry, given everything that has happened,’ Amy said softly, feeling her heart twist with sympathy. ‘You’ve obviously had a terrible time. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s not too bad now, things have gone quiet. But now this.’ Sue looked at Amy and her eyes filled. ‘I can cope with anything that happens to me but if anything happens to my child—to Harry—that’s it, I’m telling you that now. That’s it for me. No more. If my baby is ill, then I’ll…’ Tears poured down her cheeks and Amy reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.

  ‘It is very unlikely that this is anything serious, but I can understand why you’re worried, so this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to take a very, very good look
at him and if necessary we’ll refer him to the paediatrician for a specialist opinion. Anything we need to do to reassure you.’

  ‘And how long will that take?’ Sue reached into her bag for a tissue and blew her nose hard. ‘I’m not sleeping at night because I’m so worried.’

  The door opened and Harry bounced back into the room. ‘She said, “thank you.”’

  Sue immediately pulled herself together, her smile just a little too bright as she scrunched up the tissue and pushed it up her sleeve. ‘Good boy.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Harry.’ Amy smiled and then turned back to Sue. ‘Let’s start by taking some history. Does anyone in the family suffer from migraines?’

  ‘My mother and my sister. But not for years. I did take Harry to have his eyes tested because I thought it might be that, but the optician said that his eyes are fine. I brought you the report, just in case you wanted to see it.’ She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a piece of paper.

  Amy glanced at the results and nodded. ‘Yes, they’re fine. Nothing there that should cause a headache.’ She asked a few more questions, recorded the answers carefully and then smiled at the boy. ‘Hop on my couch, Harry, and I’ll take a look at you.’

  She examined the child thoroughly, found nothing that alarmed her but saw the desperate worry in Sue’s eyes.

  Amy thought for a moment. ‘Sue, I can’t find anything that would lead me to believe this is anything other than a straightforward headache, but given your history I think it would be reassuring for you to have a second opinion. Dr Avanti is a qualified paediatrician, as you know. I think what we might do, given how worried you are, is to ask him to take a look at Harry.’

  ‘Would he have time?’

  Amy looked at the clock. ‘Well, it’s the end of surgery so let me just pop in and ask him and see how he’s fixed.’

  She left the room and found Marco in his consulting room, talking on the phone. He waved a hand towards a chair, finished the conversation and then looked at her expectantly. ‘Problems?’

  ‘I have Sue Miller in my room.’

  ‘Sue?’ His gaze sharpened. ‘What’s the matter with her? She was diagnosed with colorectal cancer a couple of years ago. I know Lucy did some follow-up with her.’

  Amy looked at him curiously. ‘Do you know everyone’s patients?’

  ‘Sì, if they have a history of serious illness, it’s my business to know. It’s important that all the partners are aware of what is going on.’ He shrugged. ‘She was discussed in a practice meeting a while ago. She’s always a priority patient for us. So, why is she seeing you today?’

  ‘It isn’t about her. It’s about Harry. He’s seven and he’s been having headaches.’

  Marco gave a slow nod. ‘And she thinks this is symptomatic of a brain tumour, no? I’m sure she is very anxious.’

  ‘Exactly. Understandable in the circumstances.’

  ‘Of course. And you’ve examined him?’

  ‘Yes. I can’t find anything, but I can see that she’s very worried. I could always refer her to a paediatrician, but that would take time and given that you are a paediatrician, I thought you might look at him for me. Provide instant reassurance.’ She frowned. ‘Always assuming that there isn’t anything to worry about.’

  ‘Now who is being paranoid?’ Marco said softly, a faint flicker of humour in his eyes. ‘Less than one per cent of headaches are caused by a brain tumour. I think you know that statistic.’

  ‘Yes.’ Amy gave herself a little shake. ‘But try telling that to a thirty-five-year-old woman who developed cancer when she shouldn’t have done. I don’t think she’s a big believer in the relevance of statistics.’

  ‘Point taken. Of course I will see him. Your room or mine?’

  His voice was silky smooth and Amy felt the colour flood into her cheeks and cursed herself for reacting so strongly. Why couldn’t she be indifferent? Why?

  ‘You may as well come to my room. Harry is playing happily and it might be less unsettling for him.’

  Marco picked up his stethoscope and auriscope and followed her out of the room.

  ‘By the way…’ He paused outside the door. ‘They’re having a New Year’s Eve party at the Penhally Arms. We’re both invited.’

  ‘Thanks, but no.’ Amy shook her head. ‘I’m here to work, not to party. You go. I’ll stay at home and catch up on some paperwork.’

  ‘You need to be there. You’re a member of the community now. You need to make a showing.’

  ‘I’m only here for a short time.’

  ‘If you don’t go, people will say that we’re afraid to be seen together. We need to present a united front. They don’t want to think that there’s dissent at the surgery.’

  Feeling trapped once again, Amy paused with her hand on the door. ‘I can’t go to a party with you, Marco.’

  ‘Why not?’ He looked genuinely puzzled. ‘We’re friends and colleagues. Why wouldn’t you? We can spend a pleasant evening together. What’s the problem? Let’s go and take a look at Harry.’ And he pushed open the door of her consulting room and walked inside, leaving her staring after him with frustration.

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE ALWAYS seemed to get his own way.

  She’d come to Penhally planning to stay for an hour and here she was, working in the surgery, living with him in their old house and now contemplating going to a party with him. It was ridiculous!

  Amy watched as he spoke quietly to Sue and then dropped into a crouch next to Harry.

  ‘Hi, there, Harry.’ His voice was good-humoured. ‘Good Christmas? What did Father Christmas bring?’

  ‘The most amazing remote-control car. You should see it, Dr Avanti, it’s so cool.’

  ‘You didn’t bring it with you?’ When Harry shook his head, Marco looked disappointed. ‘Shame. Never mind. Next time I see you perhaps you’ll have it with you.’ He asked Harry a few questions and then did the same of Sue. ‘I’m going to take a look at you, Harry. Can you take off your jumper and shirt and sit on that couch, please?’

  Marco listened to the child’s heart and lungs and then laid him down and examined his abdomen. ‘How long have you been at your school, Harry?’

  ‘Oh…’ The boy thought for a moment. ‘Pretty much my whole life.’

  ‘Since nursery,’ Sue muttered, a soft smile on her face as she looked at her child. ‘Age four.’

  Marco felt the femoral pulse. ‘And who lives at home with you?’

  ‘Well, my mum mostly.’ Harry wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. ‘And my dad comes home in the evenings.’

  ‘Because he’s at work all day,’ Sue interjected hastily, and Marco smiled.

  ‘Children are very literal. Any brothers or sisters, Harry?’

  ‘Just Beth. She’s two. She doesn’t say much but she bites a lot. I suppose she’s all right.’ Harry looked a bit unsure on that point and Sue gave him a quick hug.

  ‘She doesn’t mean to bite, sweetheart. She’s very little and her teeth are hurting.’ She gave Marco an apologetic look. ‘Beth is going through a biting phase at the moment. I’m talking to the health visitor about her in clinic next week.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Marco picked up the patella hammer and gently rolled up Harry’s trouser leg. ‘And what’s your favourite subject at school?’

  ‘Science.’ Harry giggled as his leg jumped. ‘Are you going to break my leg?’

  ‘Definitely not.’ Marco smiled and tested the reflexes in the child’s feet. ‘Doctors don’t break legs, they fix them. Do you like your school, Harry? Are you happy?’

  ‘Yes. Except for the lunches. The lunches are gross.’

  ‘What do they give you for lunch?’

  ‘Slugs and snails.’

  Marco looked interested. ‘Cooked or raw?’

  Amy smiled. He was so good with children and they just adored him.

  Harry was giggling. ‘And worms. They call it spaghetti but it’s definitely worms.’

  ‘In Italy, where I com
e from…’ Marco picked up the child’s T-shirt and handed it to him ‘…we eat a lot of worms. You can get dressed now.’

  ‘You eat worms?’ Harry shuddered and pulled on his clothes. ‘Weird.’

  ‘Very weird,’ Marco agreed. ‘Now, I want you to sit up and play a few games with me.’

  ‘Games? Cool.’ Harry sat up cheerfully, his legs dangling over the edge of the trolley, his expression enthusiastic. ‘Now what?’

  Marco stood in front of him, legs planted firmly apart, supremely confident. ‘I want you to touch my finger and then touch your nose—that’s good. And now with the other hand. Faster. Oh, you’re good at that.’

  ‘It’s easy.’

  ‘Now look at me.’ Marco held his hand to the right of the boy’s head and wiggled his finger. ‘Tell me if my finger is moving or still.’

  ‘Moving.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Still.’

  Marco switched sides, performed a few more tests and then reached for the ophthalmoscope. ‘And now I want to look in the back of your eyes. Amy, can you close the curtains for me, please? Look straight ahead at the picture on the wall, Harry. Keep looking at it even if I get in the way.’ He examined the back of both eyes and then put the ophthalmoscope down and drew the curtains.

  ‘Can you see my brain with that light?’

  Marco smiled. ‘Not your brain exactly but the back of your eye tells me things about your brain. Now put your arms up.’ He carried on with the examination while Sue watched anxiously and Amy watched with interest. ‘Sit on the floor for me, Harry.’

  Eager to please, the little boy slid off the couch and sat on the floor. ‘This is fun. Now what?’

  ‘Now stand up as fast as you can.’

  The boy leapt to his feet. ‘I’m the quickest at gym.’

  ‘I can see that.’ Marco walked across to him, putting his heel directly in front of his other foot. ‘Can you do this? It’s like walking on a tightrope.’

  ‘You mean like in the circus?’ Harry chuckled and walked, arms outstretched like an acrobat. ‘Like this?’