Her Brooding Italian Surgeon. Fiona Lowe
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a brightly coloured hammock and had slung it between the last two posts on the front veranda. One day she planned to have time to lie in it for more than the brief ‘test’ she’d taken when she’d installed it. Meanwhile Murphy enjoyed lying underneath it, using it as shade.
The thick brick walls always offered a respite from the heat. ‘Morning, Debbie,’Abbie called to her practice nurse as she made her way into the cool kitchen, her stomach rumbling at the thought of fresh grapes just off the vine combined with locally made yoghurt drizzled with honey. ‘Where’s Jessica?’
Debbie followed her into the kitchen. ‘She’s come down with a filthy cold so I’m afraid we’re juggling reception and patients today.’
Abbie groaned. ‘That’s a great start to being one doctor down. Has anything come from the board about a new appointee?’ She dropped thick slices of crusty bakery bread into the toaster.
‘Robert Gleeson said he’s had applications from Egypt, India and Kenya and he’d be catching up with you soon for interview times.’
Abbie sighed. Rural medicine seemed to only attract doctors with the ‘short-term’ in mind and then they left just as she’d trained them up. The thought reminded her that yesterday’s emergency had got in the way of a farewell. ‘Is Justin able to have his party tonight?’
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