Jess frowned. ‘Tell her I’d like to see her first. Her blood pressure was up the last time I checked it, and I want to monitor her.’
‘Will I have to make an appointment, too, Dr Dunbar?’ Fraser Kennedy asked as he joined them at the reception desk. ‘I’m needing a repeat prescription for the cream you gave me. I’m going through tons of the stuff at the moment, trying to ease the pain.’
And he’d go through tons more, Jess thought, carefully avoiding Ezra’s eyes as he told Fraser he didn’t need to make an appointment. She couldn’t perform Fraser’s operation—standing for any length of time at the moment was completely impossible—and knowing what she now knew about Ezra, he couldn’t do it either.
‘Heavens, Jess, you look like you need a good night’s sleep,’ Fraser continued with a frown as Ezra went round the reception desk to get a prescription pad.
‘I am a bit tired,’ she admitted, but he shook his head.
‘Stressed to hell, more like, and I’m not surprised. The way everyone’s carrying on at the moment you’d think we had an outbreak of plague instead of one poor woman with TB.’
She nodded ruefully. ‘The trouble is, people panic—’
‘The trouble is, you take too much on yourself,’ he declared, putting his arm round her shoulders and giving her a hug. ‘Always did and, no doubt, always will.’
She smiled up at him. ‘Probably. Fraser—’
‘Your repeat prescription, Mr Kennedy,’ Ezra said, thrusting it towards him.
‘My offer still stands, you know,’ Fraser continued, pocketing Ezra’s prescription but keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Jess. ‘Any time. Just say the word.’
As Jess looked deeply embarrassed, Ezra knew he didn’t have to ask what offer Fraser Kennedy might have made, and he felt his heart twist with jealousy.
The big fisherman had it all, he thought, watching him leave. Good looks, his own business, a future. Jess would marry him for sure and live happily ever after, raising a whole family of little Kennedys, while he…He would return to the mainland, and try—somehow—to pretend he’d never ever met a girl called Jess Arden.
‘So what’s it to be, Ezra?’
‘S-sorry?’ he stammered, realising that both Cath and Jess were gazing at him expectantly.
‘Robb MacGregor is down in the appointment book as my next patient,’ Jess declared impatiently, ‘but you said you’d like to see him when he came in for the results of his tests. Unless, of course, you’re not interested any more?’
‘Of course I’m still interested,’ he protested, hearing the decided edge to her voice.
‘Good. That’s finally got that sorted out,’ Cath said with relief. ‘OK, Jess, you’ve got Grace Henderson next. Bad cold, and she thinks it might be turning into bronchitis.’
Without a word Jess took the folder Cath was holding out to her, beckoned to Grace Henderson, then disappeared down the corridor, leaving Ezra staring after her.
She was still angry with him. He could see it, feel it. Angry because of what he’d said the night they’d met Trevor Taylor.
And she had every right to be angry. Hell, having done the work of a GP for almost a month, he had nothing but admiration for them, and for Jess in particular. The way she juggled the demands on her time—part doctor, part social worker, part psychiatrist—but it wasn’t for him. His dream had always been to become a surgeon, and to do anything else…well, it was unthinkable.
‘Dr Arden given me up as a lost cause, has she?’ Robb MacGregor asked with a poor attempt at a smile after Ezra told him that the results from the infirmary had indicated he didn’t have a peptic ulcer.
‘No, of course not,’ Ezra replied reassuringly. ‘It’s just that we’re rather busy at the moment, but if you’d prefer to make another appointment to see Dr Arden, to discuss your case with her…?’
‘Frankly, Doctor, I’d be prepared to see a chimpanzee if it could make me feel any better,’ Robb sighed.
‘No improvement, I take it?’
The builder shook his head. ‘The diarrhoea’s worse, my legs have started swelling up like balloons and I’ve got a rash now, too.’
Somewhere in the back of Ezra’s mind a memory stirred of a lecture he’d attended years ago when he’d been a student. ‘What sort of rash—where?’
‘On my knees,’ Robb MacGregor replied, rolling up his trouser legs to show him. ‘It’s like a whole load of tiny red blisters, and this morning the wife noticed there were some on my back, too.’
As Ezra stared down at the blisters on Robb MacGregor’s knees he suddenly realised he might just have discovered what was wrong with the man.
‘Coeliac disease?’ Jess paused in the act of reaching for her cup of coffee. ‘You think Robb might have coeliac disease, but—’
‘Think about it, Jess,’ Ezra said eagerly. ‘His constant fatigue, the diarrhoea and stomach pain. And now his legs are swelling, and he’s got blisters on his knees and back. I know gluten intolerance is something normally associated with children—’
‘But it can develop in adults.’ She nodded. ‘Adults who have eaten wheat and rye all their lives and never had any ill effects before.’
‘And it would also explain his weight loss,’ Ezra continued. ‘If the lining of his small intestine is being damaged by the gluten in his diet, it won’t be absorbing any nutrients.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘And it would explain all his vague, apparently unrelated symptoms. In adults an intolerance to gluten can take months—even years—to manifest itself.’
She took a sip of her coffee, and stared at him thoughtfully. ‘You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?’
‘Because it fits, Jess,’ he exclaimed. ‘The poor man’s had such a wretched time lately, and if I’ve cracked it—found out what’s wrong—coeliac disease is so easy to treat. A simple change in diet…’ He paused, seeing her smile. ‘What—what’s funny?’
‘Just that being a GP isn’t all about dishing out pills and treating people with piles and verrucas, is it?’
He coloured. ‘Jess, what I said—’
‘Forget it,’ she said dismissively. ‘The most important thing right now is to find out if you’re right. Have you told Robb we’ll have to make an appointment for him to have a jejunal biopsy?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve explained it all to him. That he’ll have to swallow a lubricated Crosby capsule attached to a length of tubing which will be guided down into his duodenum to suck up a small piece of tissue for analysis.’
‘Did you also tell him he’ll need to repeat this procedure three times?’ she queried. ‘Once after he’s been eating a diet containing gluten, the next time when he’s been on a gluten-free diet and the third time after gluten has been reintroduced into his diet?’
‘He said he didn’t care how often he had to do it just so long as we eventually found out what was wrong with him. I phoned the infirmary as soon as he left, stressed it was an urgent case, and the secretary said she’d try to get him an appointment for Tuesday.’
‘Tuesday?’ She shook her head. ‘Ezra, I don’t care what the hospital secretary told you, this is Saturday and Robb hasn’t a hope in hell of getting an appointment for Tuesday. Three months on Tuesday, maybe, but not this Tuesday.’
His lips curved. ‘Oh, I think he’ll get an appointment. You see, I happened to mention where I used to work—what I did before…’
‘And the poor woman became putty in your hands.’ She laughed. ‘Oh, well done, Ezra! I’m going to let you handle all our appointments in future. With you at the end of the phone our patients will be home and dry!’
Except, of course, that they wouldn’t be, she suddenly realised. Because in the future he wouldn’t be here.
The same thought must have occurred to him. All the enthusiasm and pleasure she’d seen in his face vanished in an instant, and it was a relief to both of them when Tracy popped her head round the consulting-room door.
‘I’ve got y
our list of home visits ready, Ezra. You did say you wanted to get out on the road fast today, didn’t you?’ she added uncertainly, seeing him sigh.
He nodded, but when Tracy had closed the door he cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘Jess…before I go, there’s something I think you should know—’
‘I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on!’ Tracy laughed, appearing round the door again. ‘I also meant to say that the first of this afternoon’s screening session have arrived.’
‘Already?’ Jess protested, glancing up at her wall clock. ‘But it’s not even one o’clock!’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Tracy grimaced. ‘No rest for the weary or the wicked, eh?’
There wasn’t, and Jess reached for her crutches with a sigh, then remembered. ‘Ezra, did you say there was something you wanted to talk to me about?’
He opened his mouth, closed it again and shook his head. ‘It’ll keep.’
She nodded. Judging by the sound of car doors slamming outside in the car park, she and Cath were in for yet another exhausting afternoon and, like he said, whatever he wanted to talk to her about would keep.
‘I’ve never been so glad to see five o’clock,’ Jess exclaimed, stretching her back to try to ease the stiffness. ‘How many tests did we manage, Cath?’
The receptionist flicked through the cards on her desk. ‘Thirty-eight. Sorry—thirty-nine. That makes two hundred and four we’ve done so far.’
‘Only another three hundred and ninety-six to go,’ Jess said ruefully. ‘No, leave that,’ she continued as Cath began filing the cards. ‘I’ll do it. You get off home.’
‘Are you sure?’ Cath said uncertainly. ‘It would only take me a few minutes—’
‘You’ve done enough,’ Jess said firmly, taking the index cards from her. ‘Go on—go home. Rebecca will be forgetting what you look like.’
Cath chuckled, slipped on her coat and began walking towards the surgery door, only to turn back a little uncertainly. ‘Jess…’
‘Mmm?’ she murmured absently.
‘I just…I only wanted you to know that I’ve really enjoyed working with you these last three years.’
But? There had been a definite but in there and Jess gazed at her in dismay. ‘Oh, Cath, don’t tell me you’re going to resign! I know things have been tough recently, and I’ve been a real pig to you—’
‘Of course I’m not going to resign—at least not willingly,’ Cath protested. ‘I just…I only wanted you to know that no matter what happens now, or…or in the future, I’ve had a great time, working with you.’
‘I’ve enjoyed working with you, too,’ Jess said, bewildered. ‘In fact, I hope we’ll have a lot more years together.’
‘So do I.’
‘Cath—’
‘I’d better go,’ her receptionist interrupted. ‘Like you said, Rebecca will be forgetting what I look like.’
And before Jess could say anything else Cath had gone, leaving her bemused, confused and totally bewildered.
What the heck had all that been about?
Cath had sounded for all the world as though she’d been about to resign, then had told her she’d no intention of doing so, only to finish off by implying she might not be working for her for much longer.
Jess shook her head as she began filing the index cards. She was too tired to figure it out. She’d ask Cath about it tomorrow. No, not tomorrow. Tomorrow was Sunday. She’d ask her on Monday.
Or maybe she’d ask Ezra, she thought, hearing the sound of his car drawing to a halt outside the surgery. He’d been talking to Cath this morning, so maybe he knew what was going on.
‘Ready to go?’ he asked as he came into the office.
‘Almost.’ Silently she watched him as he put the patient folders he always took out with him on his home visits back into the filing cabinet. ‘Rough afternoon?’
‘Not particularly. I called in on Denise Fullarton on my way back.’
‘And?’
‘She’s staying in her bed as we suggested, and she’s still pregnant.’
So why did he look so depressed? As though something was bothering him. ‘Ezra—’
‘Do you still want to drop in at the Sinclair Memorial—see how Mairi is?’
‘Yes. I won’t stay long—just for a few minutes,’ she added quickly, seeing him frown. ‘Fiona says she’s responding well to the treatment but she can’t get her interested in anything, and I thought if I spoke to her…’
For a second she thought he was going to argue with her—he looked as though he’d like to—but instead he simply led the way out to his car and helped her in.
‘How many tests did you manage to get through this afternoon?’ he asked as he drove through Inverlairg’s narrow streets towards the hospital.
‘Thirty-nine. Cath and I were hoping to make it fifty, but we had some no-shows.’
‘Hopefully that means the panic’s beginning to die down,’ he said. ‘People not turning up, I mean.’
They could only hope so, Jess thought as they arrived at the Sinclair Memorial. For Mairi’s sake, as well as their own.
‘Have you both been vaccinated against TB?’ she asked as soon as she saw them. ‘Because if you haven’t—’
‘Mairi, relax,’ Jess interrupted gently. ‘You can’t give us TB. We just came to see how you are.’
‘Fine. I’m fine.’
She didn’t look fine. She looked tired, and depressed, and haunted. Quickly Jess sat down on the edge of her bed, and to her dismay Mairi deliberately moved further away from her.
‘How are you getting on with the pills we’re giving you?’ Jess asked, determinedly bright. ‘Any rash—itchiness?’
‘I’m fine, I told you,’ Mairi replied irritably, then shook her head at Ezra. ‘You should have taken this girl straight home. She looks about dead on her feet.’
He smiled. ‘Have you ever tried telling this girl anything, Mairi?’
To Jess’s relief Mairi chuckled.
‘Aye, she’s an argumentative one, and no mistake. Never did know when to give in gracefully, and still doesn’t.’
‘I’m not argumentative,’ Jess protested. ‘I…I simply have strong opinions—’
‘Strong?’ Ezra gasped. ‘Mairi, this girl’s opinions were formed at the same time as the Ten Commandments. This girl would argue black was white rather than admit she was wrong.’
‘And this man is so arrogant he thinks GPs treat nothing but piles and verrucas,’ Jess declared, happily entering into the spirit of things if only to keep Mairi smiling. ‘I blame his parents. They should have sat on him years ago, and then I wouldn’t have to endure his half-baked ideas!’
To Jess’s surprise the amusement disappeared instantly from Mairi’s face, to be replaced by consternation. ‘You haven’t told her, then, lad?’
‘Told me what?’ Jess said, glancing from Mairi to Ezra in confusion.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said dismissively. ‘It’s old history now anyway.’
‘Your past’s never just history, lad,’ Mairi said softly. ‘It’s what made you the person you are.’
He didn’t look convinced, and Jess cleared her throat. ‘Ezra, if I’ve said something I shouldn’t—’
‘Of course you haven’t,’ he interrupted. ‘My parents were killed in a car crash when I was four, that’s all, and I was brought up in an orphanage.’
Jess wished the ground would open up and swallow her. ‘Ezra, I’m sorry…’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he insisted. ‘Despite what Mairi said, it’s no big deal.’
Oh, but it was, she thought. And it explained so much. His air of complete self-reliance, the way he’d defined himself solely in relationship to his skill. It told her a lot more about him that he could ever have realised.
‘Do you remember your parents at all?’ she asked gently.
His mother’s hands. He remembered them. Soft, slender, wiping away his tears after he’d fallen over and hurt himself. And his father�
��s arms. Big, strong, picking him up, holding him.
‘No, I don’t remember them,’ he replied.
She didn’t believe him. He could see she didn’t, just as he could also see sympathy in her large green eyes, and he didn’t want that. For the past thirty years he’d survived by needing no one, depending on no one, and he didn’t want to need someone now. Wanting Jess was a simple, biological fact of life—but needing her…No, he couldn’t cope with that.
He got to his feet, anxious to escape those soft green eyes. ‘I’ve left my car out front. Hopefully we won’t get any emergencies, but if we do, I’m blocking the access.’
And before either woman could say anything he was gone.
‘You like him—a lot, I mean, don’t you?’ Mairi observed.
Jess smiled a little ruefully. ‘Yes—yes, I do.’
‘Maybe you could persuade him to stay on—join you in the practice?’
Jess shook her head. ‘The practice doesn’t make enough money to support two doctors, you know that, Mairi.’
And it didn’t, but neither did Jess add what she also knew to be true. That there was nothing on Greensay for Ezra—nothing that could possibly tempt him to stay.
But Mairi wasn’t about to let it go. ‘He’s got black hair, Jess. Perhaps—under that dreadful beard—he’s also got the cleft chin?’
Jess laughed shakily. ‘Even if he has…Even if I wanted…We’re just colleagues, that’s all.’
‘Well, all I can say is you’re a fool,’ Mairi declared firmly. ‘Because if I had Ezra Dunbar staying with me, and I was twenty years younger, I wouldn’t be letting him walk out of my life, that’s for sure!’
Which was easy for Mairi to say, Jess thought when Ezra returned and Mairi urged them both to get off home. But how could you interest a man who wasn’t interested in you? You couldn’t.
Especially when that man seemed even more indifferent than usual, she decided sadly as she shared her evening meal with him some time later. Normally, he would at least try to make some conversation, perhaps about a patient’s medical background or a condition he felt he didn’t know enough about, but tonight—nothing. Nothing but the occasional request to pass the salt, or an ‘Excuse me’ when he went to collect their next course from the kitchen.
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