It was a relief when their meal was over, and deliberately she picked up her crutches. ‘I think—if you don’t mind—I might just go to bed.’
‘Could you wait just a minute?’ he asked. ‘There’s something I want to say to you. Something I’ve been putting off since this morning, and I really do want to get it over with.’
‘That sounds ominous.’ She smiled but he, she noticed, didn’t.
‘It’s about Cath. She came to see me this morning—’
‘She wants to resign, doesn’t she?’ Jess interrupted. ‘We had a really garbled conversation this afternoon, and I thought then that she was trying to pluck up the courage—’
‘Jess, she came to see me as a patient. She…’ He bit his lip. ‘She has a lump—in her breast.’
‘A lump?’
‘Jess, it’s probably nothing more sinister than a cyst caused by a blocked duct in her breast,’ he continued swiftly, seeing the shock in her face. ‘Or a fibroadenoma—a collection of fibrous glandular tissue which has become knotted together to form a solid lump. She’s only forty, and breast cancer usually affects women over the age of fifty.’
‘But it can affect younger women,’ she murmured. ‘Her mother died from breast cancer—one of her aunts, too.’
‘And you’re already jumping two steps ahead,’ he protested. ‘All we know right now is that she’s got a lump in her breast. I’ve made an appointment for her to have a mammogram and a needle aspiration on Monday. It’ll be time enough to start worrying then if they find something to worry about.’
‘You said she was looking tired,’ Jess continued as though Ezra hadn’t spoken, ‘and I dismissed it—said it was just because Rebecca was playing up. Oh, hell, Ezra, I was so horrible to her when she lost Mairi’s test results, and all the time she must have known about the lump, been worrying about it…’
‘Jess, you’ve got a lot on your plate at the moment,’ he said, hating the distress he could see in her eyes. ‘Everyone gets bad-tempered at times—’
‘She came to you. She had a lump in her breast, and yet she came to you. Cath and I are friends. We go back years.’
‘Maybe that’s why she wanted to see someone else. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger.’
‘And Mairi—what about Mairi?’ she continued. ‘I’ve known her since I was a child, and yet it was you who persuaded her to have treatment, not me. And Robb MacGregor. It wasn’t me who found out what was wrong with him.’
‘Jess, I only think he might have coeliac’s disease,’ he declared. ‘And if you’d seen his rash this morning I’m sure that thought would have occurred to you, too.’
‘Would it, Ezra—would it?’ she said unhappily. ‘I chewed off your head when you said I shouldn’t try to fill my father’s shoes—that I couldn’t do it—but you were right. I’m a failure, aren’t I? A failure as a GP.’
‘Hey, stop that right now,’ he demanded, grasping her firmly by the shoulders. ‘You’re a bloody marvellous GP!’
‘Cath obviously didn’t think so.’
‘Cath thinks you’re wonderful. She just didn’t want to land you with any more stress.’
Tears welled in her eyes. ‘Didn’t she?’
He grasped her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him. ‘Jess, if Cath were in your situation—with a fractured leg, a measles epidemic and a possible TB outbreak pending—would you want to add to her problems?’
‘No, but—’
‘Jess, would I lie to you?’
His voice was soft, and unbelievably tender, and the tears she’d been trying to hold in check began spilling down her cheeks.
Gently—oh, so gently—he wiped them away with his fingers, his eyes deep with understanding. For a second—a brief, fleeting second—she thought he might take her into his arms and hold her—and she desperately needed to be held—but he didn’t.
Instead he reached for her crutches and said gruffly, ‘I think you should go to bed now. It’s been a long day, and you need sleep.’
She stared up at him for a moment, then slowly turned away. Yes, she needed sleep, but with an aching heart she also realised something else. This man had never held her unless she’d asked him to, had never once kissed her—not even as a friend—and yet she was in love with him, and it was a love that was going nowhere.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘CATH, just because the infirmary has expressed concern about the cells they removed from your breast yesterday, it doesn’t automatically mean you have cancer.’
‘I know,’ her receptionist replied, staring down at her hands as she sat in Jess’s consulting room.
‘The surgical biopsy they want to perform on Saturday is a pretty standard procedure. They’ll remove the lump under a general anaesthetic—’
‘Jess, I was a theatre sister at the Sinclair Memorial for ten years, I know what’s going to happen. Which is why…’ Cath’s head came up and she met Jess’s gaze full on ‘…I’m only going to give them permission to do the biopsy—nothing more.’
Jess glanced across at Ezra in dismay and he leant forward in his seat quickly. ‘Do you think that’s wise, Cath?’
‘You think I should just let them remove part—or all—of my breast on Saturday if the lump turns out to be cancerous?’
‘If they consider it necessary—’
‘It’s my body, Ezra, and nothing’s going to happen to it until I’ve looked at every option and decided what’s best for me.’
He would talk her round, Jess thought confidently, watching him. He would explain that sometimes surgery was the only option, but to her dismay he merely gazed at Cath thoughtfully for a second, then nodded. ‘It’s your decision.’
‘Ezra—’
‘You heard what Cath said. It’s her body.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Have you told your husband and daughter why you’re going into hospital this weekend?’ he continued, turning his attention back to Cath.
‘Peter knows—he’s flying back tomorrow from the Gulf—but Rebecca…’ Cath shook her head. ‘I don’t know whether to tell her or not. She’s only fourteen…’
‘Tell her,’ Ezra declared emphatically. ‘If this scare turns out to be a false alarm she can share in your joy and relief. If it doesn’t…Believe me, it will be a hell of a lot harder if you have to tell her later.’
Cath glanced across at Jess, and she nodded. ‘I agree. Rebecca’s old enough to understand, and if you keep something like this from her she’ll feel hurt and excluded if you do have to tell her eventually.’
‘I suppose so,’ Cath murmured, then got to her feet. ‘I’d better get back to work. The waiting room’s packed again this morning.’
‘Which is why I really do wish you’d take the rest of the week off,’ Jess said.
‘And do what?’ Cath said. ‘Sit around staring at my breasts for the next three days, wondering if I’m still going to have two in a month’s time? I’d far rather keep busy.’
And before either of them could reply, she was gone.
‘She’ll be all right, Jess, no matter what happens,’ Ezra said, his eyes fixed on her sympathetically. ‘She’s got a good attitude, and if her lump does turn out to be cancerous there are so many ways we can fight this disease nowadays.’
‘I know—I do know that, but…’ Jess threw down her pen with frustration. ‘Why didn’t you talk her into letting the infirmary do whatever they think best on Saturday? If she does have breast cancer she’ll have to go through the trauma of two operations—’
‘Only if she decides that surgery is what she wants. Jess, you heard what she said,’ he said as she began to protest. ‘And as a nurse she probably knows as much about the disease as we do. If the biopsy result isn’t good, we can give her our support and opinion, but that’s all we can do. The final decision has to be hers.’
A little under five weeks ago it would never have occurred to him that Cath might have rights, opinions, and Jess wished with all her
heart that he was still in that state of happy ignorance. That he’d simply steamrollered the receptionist into undergoing whatever surgery was necessary.
‘We’re not gods, remember?’ he said, clearly reading her mind. ‘I’ve had to learn that the hard way. My arrogance cost me my career. Yours is going to cost you your health if you’re not careful.’
‘I’m not arrogant,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m just worried about Cath.’
‘I know you are, but I’m not talking about Cath—or at least not solely. It’s this practice. It’s a form of arrogance to think you can run it on your own, and I’d have thought these past few weeks would have shown you that you can’t.’
‘I don’t make a habit of breaking my leg,’ she protested.
‘No, but you’re on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and nobody can keep up that level of commitment. Not if they want to remain sane.’
‘My father—’
‘Didn’t face anything like the pressures you’ve got,’ he interrupted. ‘Ten—even five years ago—there were conditions we simply couldn’t treat, but now there’s a treatment for just about anything, and if you try to provide it alone—without help—it will kill you.’
He was right. Deep down she knew he was, but…
‘Even if what you’re saying is true,’ she murmured, ‘there aren’t enough people on Greensay to pay for another full-time doctor.’
‘Then advertise for someone to work part time with you. Advertise, interview and appoint someone to help you.’
It made sense—she knew it did—but she didn’t want to advertise. She didn’t want to interview. There was only one doctor she wanted to help her—one man she wanted in her life—and he didn’t want to be there.
Her intercom crackled into life.
‘Jess, I’m sorry to disturb you,’ Tracy said, sounding distinctly harassed, ‘but the natives are getting pretty restless out here. We’re already running twenty minutes late and—’
Ezra leant forward and pressed the intercom button. ‘We’re just coming, Tracy.’
‘Your discussion with Cath’s over, then?’
Ezra smiled across at Jess. The girl was clearly eaten up with curiosity, but it was for Cath to decide how much she should know. ‘Yes, our discussion’s over,’ he said, flicking off the intercom. Quickly he got to his feet, then paused. ‘Why don’t you ask your locum if she’d like to stay on permanently?’
‘She’s a he, and I don’t think a young man of twenty-six is going to be interested in part-time work.’
Ezra’s dark eyebrows snapped together. ‘I thought the agency was sending you a woman?’
She shrugged. ‘They must be all out of them at the moment. He sounded very nice on the phone,’ she added, seeing his frown deepen.
‘You’ve spoken to him?’
‘Considering he’s arriving on Saturday night, it would have been a bit odd if I hadn’t, don’t you think?’ she declared. ‘He phoned the surgery this morning and, like I said, he sounded very nice.’
‘And where is this very nice locum going to live while he’s here?’ he asked with a decided edge.
‘With me until I’m mobile again.’
‘With you?’ he said.
‘He’s hardly going to be much use if he stays on the other side of the island, is he?’ Jess replied, more tartly than she’d intended. ‘The whole point of him being here is to help me with home visits and night calls.’
‘Yes, but…’ He bit his lip. ‘Jess, he’s a stranger. He could…well, he could take advantage. He could—’
‘Sweet talk me with flattering words, and seduce me into his bed?’ she suggested, beginning to get seriously annoyed. ‘For God’s sake, Ezra, you’ve been living with me for almost five weeks and it hasn’t turned you into a rampant sexual predator with lustful designs on my body!’
Just how wrong could she be? he thought. Hell’s teeth, didn’t she realise how close to the edge he’d come on several occasions? Obviously not. And as for her crackpot assumption that as he hadn’t taken advantage, no other man would…
‘Jess, listen to me—’
‘Not when you’re talking such utter nonsense I won’t!’ she retorted, grabbing hold of her crutches and hitching them up under her arms. ‘Good grief, try for a bit of common sense. What young man of twenty-six is going to harbour lustful, lascivious thoughts towards a plain, ordinary woman of thirty-two with a broken leg?’
Plain? Ordinary? Didn’t she know her red curls framed a face that was achingly attractive? Didn’t she realise that her green eyes glowed when she laughed, or that she had the cutest way of wrinkling her nose when she was puzzled?
‘Jess—’
‘Ezra, he comes with the very best of references, not to mention two glowing letters of recommendation from GPs he’s worked with before,’ she said, hopping angrily out of her room so he had no choice but to follow her. ‘I’m the one who’s going to work with him, and if I thought he sounded nice on the phone, that should be an end to the matter!’
But it wasn’t, Ezra thought grimly. ‘Nice’ suggested this man had already insinuated his way into her good graces. ‘Nice’ suggested that once he was actually living with her it would only be a matter of time before…
‘Jess…’
Pointedly she pushed open the waiting-room door. ‘We have patients waiting, Ezra.’
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. That he was itching to continue the conversation was obvious. That he intended arguing with her was plain. But she’d had enough. The nerve of the man. The sheer, unadulterated nerve! Suggesting her new locum might have the morals of an alley cat. Implying she would be easy game for him if he did. If Ezra considered her so easy, why the hell hadn’t he taken advantage of her himself?
The sooner he was off the island, the better. The sooner her new locum arrived, the happier she’d be.
Only she wouldn’t.
It’s for the best, Jess, her heart whispered as he strode ahead of her to the reception desk, his face grim. He doesn’t belong here, never would. You might think he’d make an excellent GP, but it isn’t what he wants.
Neither are you.
‘Mrs Henderson hasn’t arrived yet, Jess,’ Cath said as soon as she saw her. ‘Do you want to give her another five minutes or…?’
‘Who’s next?’
‘John Wilson.’
Jess frowned. John was suffering from deep depression, and his consultation couldn’t be rushed. ‘I’ll give Grace another five minutes.’
Cath nodded. ‘Sheila Murray, for you, Ezra. She’s off on holiday to Africa in a couple of weeks and needs the usual vaccinations.’
‘And I’m sure she’s quite capable of telling me that herself, don’t you?’ he snapped.
Cath gazed at him, open-mouthed, but when he’d ushered Sheila and her small daughter away she turned to Jess, her eyebrows raised. ‘Was it something I said?’
‘You and me both,’ Jess said with feeling, then shook her head as the receptionist’s eyebrows climbed even higher. ‘Forget it, Cath. He’s just in a foul mood this morning.’
‘Maybe it’s because he’s leaving at the end of the week,’ Cath said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe he’d like to stay on?’
Yeah, right, and pigs might fly, Jess thought glumly. He’d never so much as hinted he might like to stay on. Hadn’t even expressed any interest in doing so.
She turned with a sigh as the surgery door clattered open and Grace Henderson hurried in, bringing with her an icy blast of air which had everyone in the waiting room quickly pulling their coats closer.
‘I’m so sorry to be late, Doctor, but my son couldn’t get the car started,’ she gasped apologetically. ‘And then some sheep were out on the road just beyond Colaboll farm so, of course, David had to get them all back in their field, and—’
‘Relax, Grace,’ Jess smiled. ‘I’m not in any hurry.’
‘Oh, good.’ She beamed. ‘Then you won’t mind if I just nip into the ladies
’ toilet? It’s the cold weather, you see,’ she added, already halfway there. ‘It plays havoc with my waterworks.’
‘Why do I have the feeling it’s going to be one of those days?’ Cath groaned when the two phones on her desk began to ring simultaneously.
‘If one of them is Virginia Brunton from Dawson’s Pharmaceuticals, tell her I’ve emigrated,’ Jess declared. ‘Better yet, tell her…’ The rest of what she’d been about to say died in her throat as Ezra suddenly came back into the waiting room, white-lipped with anger, while Sheila Murray hurried after him, frantically apologising, as her three-year-old daughter Amy howled at the top of her lungs. ‘What on earth…?’
‘Oh, damn,’ Cath groaned, cradling one of the phones against her chest. ‘I should have put Sheila on your list when I saw she had Amy with her, but I completely forgot.’
‘Forgot what?’ Jess said, puzzled.
‘Bert Mackenzie, of course. Inverlairg Health Centre,’ she announced down the phone. ‘Oh, hello, Mr Guthrie. You’d like to see Dr Dunbar tomorrow?’ Her hand hovered over the appointment book. ‘He won’t be free until eleven forty-five, I’m afraid. Right…Fine. We’ll see you then.’
‘What about Bert Mackenzie?’ Jess demanded, still confused.
Cath reached for the other phone. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened at the Christmas party when Sheila put Amy on Santa Claus’s knee?’
‘You mean when she kicked the poor man black and blue because she was terrified of his beard, and Bert said he’d never volunteer to be Santa again?’
‘Exactly.’
Jess gazed at Cath silently for a second, then her lip quivered. ‘You think that because Ezra’s got a beard, Amy…?’
Cath’s own lip started to tremble. ‘It looks awfully like it. Do you think I should explain—?’
‘Not if you value your life, I don’t.’ Jess chuckled. ‘Mind you, I can’t say I entirely blame the child. I don’t much like his beard either.’
‘That child’s bottom needs to be thoroughly tanned!’ Ezra exclaimed furiously as he joined them. ‘I took her on my knee—just to give her mother time to recover from her yellow fever jab—and she went crazy!’
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