Unknown (14 page)

'Excuse me, Dr MacFarlane, but Mr Jennings says that his grandfather had osteoarthritis. Does that mean that his is hereditary?'

And the prescribed reading of another one had been less than comprehensive! 'There could be some element of it— if your patient has got OA. Has he?'

'I, um, haven't made up my mind yet.'

'Then why not complete your examination? That might help you to decide.'

'I have—and taken his history.'

In ten minutes? That must be a world record! 'You've been very quick, so it's possible that you've missed something. Let me see your notes.'

They were passed over very reluctantly, with a plea for rotten writing to be taken into consideration.

Rotten it certainly was and there wasn't much of it either. 'What happened to the guidelines for examination that I gave you on Monday?' Yona asked patiently.

'I forgot to bring it.'

Yona handed him another, wishing she'd had a hefty bet on that reply. Ah, well, there was usually one in every group...

The examinations completed, they all crowded into the doctors' room for assessment and discussion of their efforts. Yona kept their results—they would provide the basis for her next lecture when she'd fill in the gaps. After that
she'd be passing them on to Ted and she wanted them to be well prepared.

No sooner had the medical students gone than a young student nurse was asking, 'Would you come and look at Mrs Finney's arm, please, Doctor? I don't like the look of it.'

Mrs Finney was having a blood transfusion and Yona prayed that the needle hadn't slipped. If blood was leaking into the tissues... That arm was fine, but the other one was bruised from wrist to elbow. 'What on earth—?' began Yona.

'I was reaching into my locker for a book, Doctor, only the door sort of swung to and my arm got trapped. And the more I pulled—well, it was like it had a spring on it. The door, that is.'

'Have you not been warned to be careful when you're so prone to bruises?' asked Yona worriedly.

'Oh, yes—and I am as a rule, only the nurses were so busy and I didn't want to bother them. Have I broken anything?'

'Just the skin in one or two places, but that's bad enough—it's paper-thin.'

'I know! Isn't it amazing?'

Does she think I've paid her a compliment? wondered Yona as she told the nurse how to repair the damage.

'And I think I'll pad that locker door when I've done her dressing,' he muttered. 'I wouldn't put it past her to try that again next time she thinks we're too busy.'

Another good nurse in the making, thought Yona as she went to deal with a crisis in the men's ward. Charlie was off on study leave again.

Mike had said half six, but it was later than that when Yona rang his doorbell. He came to let her in and greeted her
with flattering warmth.

'You should have shut the door first.' She laughed. 'Supposing your friendly next-door neighbour Angie had been on the lookout?'

'I shall hug whom I please on my own doorstep,' he said truculently, which wasn't as good as telling her he didn't care who saw him hugging
her!
Still, progress was progress. 'You've still got your plaster boot, I see. Were you not hoping to persuade one of your colleagues to suture the tendon instead?'

'He refused point blank; told me I ought to know I'd get a better result with conservative treatment. Still, there is the plus side. My patients have stopped grumbling at me now I'm one of them.'

'Perhaps we should all take to planter boots, then,' suggested Yona.

'Perhaps not. Think of the taxi fares for a start. I'll be flat broke by the time I do get the wretched thing off.' He bent down to kiss her again. 'Come through to the kitchen and have a drink or two while I finish off.'

'But you're on call,' she reminded him.

'I know, but you're not—and I'm going to get you so sozzled that you'll not be able to resist my advances.'

She couldn't anyway, but maybe it was as well he didn't realise it! This thing wasn't a week old yet. 'That's real cave-man talk,' said Yona. 'It's a very good thing I don't wear my hair any longer or you might start dragging me about. What are you cooking? It smells wonderful.'

'So it should with half a bottle of my best Beaujolais in it!'

'I hope you'll manage to lift your mind above alcohol some time tonight!'

He ran a hand caressingly down her spine and Yona was glad she was wearing a sweater over her thin blouse. 'I will, sweetie—don't you doubt it. Above, or maybe below—according to where it comes on your scale of life's other pleasures.'

He was showing her a new side tonight and she wondered where he'd learned his patter. It was brilliant. 'Right now, food is highest up the scale for one who only had a banana for her lunch,' warned Yona, as she lifted lids on saucepans. 'Oh, goodie! I adore pasta. It fills me up and makes me want to go to sleep like a contented cat.'

'That was not the idea at all.' He frowned comically. 'And I'm not having it.'

'So how do you propose to keep me awake, then?' she asked, which maybe wasn't the wisest thing.

'If all else fails, I could always play my trumpet at you,' he threatened.

'You don't! Do you? Play the trumpet...'

'Sadly not now—no time. But I made the National Youth Orchestra, I'd have you know.'

'But surely there's a good amateur orchestra in a place this size,' said Yona.

'There are several, but I could never guarantee to make all the rehearsals. How the hell did we get onto this?'

'You were telling me how you planned to keep me awake tonight.'

'Only as a last resort,' he said with meaning.

'You're on call,' she reminded him.

'Trust you to finger the flaw in my plan! But tomorrow we'll both be off,' he reminded her with another meaningful look.

He refused her help, so Yona watched him piling the food onto plates and enjoyed the look of him—broad-shouldered, neat-hipped, smooth deft movements of capable hands, the fact that he needed a haircut. Even the awkward lurch as he turned round from the stove was endearing.

She relived the horror when she'd thought she'd been responsible for his injury, and was glad. But for that misunderstanding, they could still be fencing warily. Circling, waiting...

'Here, let me take that,' she offered when the trolley was loaded. 'Or, better still, why do we not eat here? There's plenty of room.'

'God, but you're bossy,' he said in a tone that belied his words. 'I don't know how Ted puts up with you. Just bring the other bottle of wine, there's a good girl.' Then he trundled off down the corridor, leaving Yona to follow.

'I was only trying to save you some trouble,' she called plaintively.

'I know—and I appreciate it,' he called back. 'Tell you what, next time I come to your place, you can drop grapes into my mouth while I recline on your couch like an ancient Roman.'

'I'll do no such thing,' declared Yona. 'Eating lying down is just asking for a choking fit.'

'Must you be so literal?' he asked when they were in his spacious living room. 'That was just my way of telling you that next time we dine in you can wait on me.'

'Fair enough,' she said, and then she caught sight of the table with its wonderful centrepiece of flowers and candles. 'Oh, Mike—how lovely! You've gone to so much trouble. Is it your birthday or something?'

'Sort of,' he said obscurely. 'But don't you be thinking I go in for anything so pansyish as flower-arranging. They have these things all ready made up at the florist's opposite the hospital.'

'If only I'd known today was so special, I'd have brought you a present.'

'You have,' he said as they took their places at the table. 'You're here, aren't you? That's enough.'

And his words were enough to make her heart turn a somersault. She could only gaze at him wordlessly in reply.

'You're a very good cook,' she told him when she'd got herself together. 'Most of the men I know live out of packets—or eat out.'

'So did I—once. And then... Have some more wine,' he said quickly, reaching across the table to top up her glass.

Had that been another near reference to an early life he'd already hinted at as being less than perfect? But before she could probe he was saying, 'You're a pretty good cook yourself. That marvellous supper at your house-warming— and last Friday, here.'

'Last Friday,' she echoed, ignoring the first bit because she hadn't cooked that meal. 'Five days. Is it really only that long since—?'

'It's said that sometimes a minute—even a second—is enough. Only I never believed it until now,' he said, holding her gaze across the flowers and the candles.

Again she had that feeling of something that could take her to the end of the rainbow—or else something that could send her life spiralling out of control. There had been too many times before when all had seemed set fair, only to crash messily and painfully weeks or months later. Hadn't one reason for coming to Salchester been escape from the most recent disaster?

'I've never believed it either,' she admitted.

'Well, of course not,' he agreed. 'If we'd already found the crock of gold we'd not be here together like this now, would we?'

That was so obvious as to need no endorsement. 'Let's move over to the fire,' Mike suggested softly.

'All right...' Yona got up too, and bent to blow out the candles. 'It seems a shame, but they would soon have set light to the flowers if we'd left them.'

'How practical you are,' he said. Had that been praise or disapproval?

'I can't help it—that's the way I am.'

'You never pretend, do you? I like that.'

'Neither do you. It was one of the first things I noticed about you.' That was nearly true, but there had been times when he'd left her puzzled. About his initial apparent dislike of her, about Fran, about his mother...

She wasn't puzzled when he kissed her, though. There was no mistaking the desire, the hunger, in that kiss. Whatever else there was or wasn't between them, there was a deep and demanding attraction that sooner or later had to be satisfied. 'You're on call, Mike...'

'I haven't forgotten.'

'All the same...' The speed with which he could arouse her was wonderful as well as amazing. Yona had never known anything like it. For her, at any rate, the emergency call came in the nick of time.

It was silly, but she was hurt at the apparent ease with which Mike could switch off and reach for the phone, to listen and say matter-of-factly, 'Yes, you were quite right to call me. Tell Theatre to stand by and I'll be there as soon as I can get a taxi. You've sent one? Good girl. I'm on my way, then.'

'It sounds serious,' he told Yona sombrely. 'I could be hours so you'd better go home to bed, my pet. It's fairly late already.'

'I'll tidy up first.'

'No, leave it, dearest. You must be worn out after your own hectic night on. I'll pick you up tomorrow night
at
seven. The concert starts at half past so we'll eat after it.' He was totally in control and practical now.

'I'll look forward to it,' she said as he scrambled awkwardly to his feet when the entry phone rang.

He pulled her up beside him, kissed her just once—almost briskly—and limped off.

Mechanically Yona cleared the table and dealt with the dishes and pots. Then she also left. As the lift doors swished shut, she heard Fran Melling saying goodnight to her great friend Angie who lived so inconveniently next door to Mike. Would they ever get out from under that girl's shadow?

'If I
were a betting man,
I
'd start a book on where they'll be putting us next,' grumbled Ted on Thursday morning, when all the doctors had been directed to park on a derelict site behind the boiler house. 'This sort of thing never happened in my great-grandfather's day.'

'Surely the doctors came by horse and carriage in his day,' said Yona, laughing. 'Never mind! The car-park resurfacing will be completed by the end of this week—or so they say.'

'If they'd managed it a bit sooner, you'd not have had your fright,' Ted pointed out.

'What fright?' she asked a second before realising what he'd meant.

Ted was very surprised but, then, he didn't know how miraculously that had turned out. 'Why, thinking that you crippled poor old Mike for life, of course. I wonder what he'd say if he knew?'

'He does know. I apologised as I said I would—and he was... rather amused.'

'Only rather? I'd have expected him to laugh his head off. But he must be very worried.'

'What about?' asked Yona.

'The accident to his prospective father-in-law. Haven't you heard? The poor old chap's in Ortho with a fractured neck of femur.'

Yona wanted to say, Certainly I know—Mike was with me in my flat when he got the news. But how could she? After the way Ted had described Fran's father?

'I was called to Dr Melling on Tuesday night—for a mild coronary,' she said instead. And before Ted could say anything else depressing she said quickly, 'But I want to know all about Lausanne. I'm sure they liked your paper.'

Ted told her she was a flatterer and gave her all the details as they climbed the stair to Rheumatology, but Yona wasn't concentrating. Had Ted been assuming too much— as Fran and her father had—or was Mike being less than honest with her?

She tried to remember exactly what he'd said each time they'd talked about Fran, but Ted was asking too many questions now. Naturally, he wanted to know everything that had happened during his two days' absence. A tall order that, but fortunately Yona had kept notes.

She'd barely got started on her recital, though, when Sister Evans met them on the landing. 'Good morning, Professor—about the medical students,' she began ominously.

'Yes, I gather that's all going very smoothly,' he pre-empted her, conjuring a neat packet from the pocket of his white coat. 'Just a small memento, Sister. I remember how much you enjoyed your holiday in Switzerland a few years back.'

'The only holiday I ever heard of her taking,' he whispered to Yona as Sister—now speechless and pink with pleasure—led the way to the wards, her grievance forgotten.