The Doctor's Cinderella. Susanne Hampton
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chilling her to the bone. An arctic freeze, one patient remarked.
She was grateful she had taken the earlier dampness out of her hair with the hand-dryer in the restroom and borrowed an umbrella from Stacy or she might have brought the stirrings of a winter head cold back to the practice with her. But climate aside, Molly’s day had insurmountably improved from the rocky start. A month’s employment was everything she needed at that moment. She knew rent would be covered and she could save a little for unexpected bills. Finally, she could exhale if only for a few weeks and that brought her great comfort. As did her warm surroundings that she studied in a little more detail.
The lunchroom was brightly lit, with a round white wooden table and four matching chairs with red cushions and an arrangement of fresh red and yellow gerberas, which she knew must have been imported at that time of the year; a well-stocked wall-mounted magazine rack that was female friendly in choices; and the usual kitchen amenities, including a red enamelled espresso machine and red mugs. Molly had wondered if Lizzy might have had input into arranging the pretty room since there were many not so subtle splashes of red in the decor.
A few moments later Ryan made his way into the lunchroom, slightly startling Molly. She had assumed he had left the practice for his home rounds. There were five visits that afternoon and Molly discovered Ryan, unlike many GPs, didn’t use a locum service to meet his patients’ needs. He called in personally to monitor those who were housebound by various short-and long-term medical ailments, including those patients who had been admitted permanently to nursing homes. He seemed more like a country-style, hands-on GP.
‘Molly,’ Ryan said as he made his way to the refrigerator and collected milk. ‘I wondered if you might be in here.’
‘Just grabbing a bite to eat.’
‘Ah, soup,’ he said, peering into the bowl as he passed by. ‘Is it home-made?’
‘No, the local shop,’ she mumbled as she swallowed and pointed in the direction of the local bakery across the road. ‘I didn’t have time to think about breakfast this morning, let alone packing lunch.’
Ryan smiled in reply and made his way to the espresso machine. ‘I’m not much of a breakfast person, slice of toast on the way out of the door if I’m lucky, but I never go without my coffee. I’m addicted to caffeine, I can’t lie.’
‘It’s not a serious vice,’ she returned, happy their conversation was light and casual and he was on the other side of the room. Her emotions were in check and he was just a handsome doctor making chit-chat. It was easy, she told herself. She had clearly overreacted before to being in a new environment.
‘I agree, there’s worse,’ he said as he turned his back on the machine and faced Molly with his arms folded across his chest. ‘Before I head off for the afternoon, I wanted to say thank you for the changes that you made to the scheduling.’
‘You’re welcome. I like the software and you hadn’t been utilising all of the features.’
‘It’s great. I had no idea the software had that capability.’
‘I’ve seen it at a number of practices, and even some small country hospitals use it. The bigger ones not so much.’
‘So, you’ve done some country placements in admin too, then?’
‘As a nurse, I accessed the software for patient notes and was impressed so I looked into it further.’ As the words slipped from her lips she realised she had said more than she intended. ‘Keep it simple and short’ had been her plan. Since the break-up Molly just wanted to keep her life a closed book. Information to be provided on an as-needed basis. But again, she felt safe. Ryan was just her boss and things were professional and she didn’t need to worry.
Ryan swung around to collect his coffee, then back to Molly. ‘Nursing background? Now it makes sense.’ He nodded to himself. ‘I heard you speaking earlier to a patient, Jean Burton, and the level of detail in answering her questions about her blood-pressure medication was so much more information than an admin assistant or receptionist would, or for that matter generally could, provide.’
‘You haven’t seen my CV, then?’
‘No. The agency told me you were highly recommended but no in-depth details. To be honest I didn’t have the time to look through CVs last week. With Maxine’s accident I just needed a replacement asap so I had to trust them...and I’m glad I did,’ Ryan said as he pulled up a seat and put his freshly made coffee on the table before him. His long, lean fingers were comfortably wrapped around the hot mug.
It was at complete odds with how uncomfortable Molly was suddenly made by his decision to sit down with her. Everything she had told herself about him having no effect on her was being negated quickly.
‘Are you a registered nurse?’
‘I’m... I’m actually an anaesthetic nurse.’
‘Any reason you specialised in anaesthesia?’
‘I did a Theatre placement during my second year and realised that was where I wanted to be after graduating, so that’s what I did.’
He sat back in his seat, releasing his hands from the cup. ‘Then you are a very long way from home, Dorothy.’
His smile was wide and Molly sensed genuine. But it was also making her pulse pick up speed. She had to get it under control. She wasn’t sure how but she suspected distance might help.
‘Not so far, really,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I’m still working in the field of medicine...’
‘You are and, believe me, I’m not complaining,’ he cut in as he once again leaned forward.
To Molly’s horror he made the distance between them even less. His forest-fresh cologne brought a sudden tingling sensation to her skin.
‘Your medical experience is a huge benefit to my practice, but may I ask why you stepped away from Theatre?’
‘Long story and I won’t bore you. Just say that the temp hours suit me better.’
‘I shouldn’t imagine the remuneration would so much,’ he said matter-of-factly with a frown forming, replacing the previous light-hearted expression. ‘I suppose we stand a chance of losing you, then. I mean, if a better-paid gig came along in line with your experience, with the hours you want, then I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t, blame you for leaving.’
‘You don’t have to worry about that happening,’ she said, hoping her racing heart wasn’t making her blush. ‘If I make a promise or commitment I always keep it. This suits me just fine.’
‘In the interim perhaps, but long-term maybe not so much—’
‘Let’s not fudge words,’ Molly cut in, wanting to end the conversation. ‘I’m barely dry after four hours and my typing speed is twenty-nine words a minute. The average for a temp is over eighty. My strength is my medical background and you’re offering good hours. So, if you’re happy, I’m happy. It’s a great trade-off for both of us.’
‘I think you’re selling yourself short. While I have to agree you arrived a little soggy—I couldn’t help but overhear the hand-dryer running for ten minutes straight earlier on,’ he told her as he leant back on the chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, giving her the space she suddenly realised she needed. ‘But I need more than a great typist in this practice and I think you’ll fit in extremely well. I’m astute enough to see what you’ve accomplished in a couple of hours. You’ve made changes I didn’t know were possible.’
‘It’s hardly rocket science but I’m happy you like what I’ve done. I’ve been here four hours so it wasn’t too difficult to make the changes. You had the software capability, it just needed to be utilised,’ Molly answered as she stood up. She had to create the space between them herself so she collected her bowl and cup, and made her way to the sink. She rolled her eyes at the way she had reacted having him so close. She dropped her bowl into the sudsy water in