A Mother for His Baby. Leah Martyn
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lips. ‘I…will be all right, though, won’t I?’
‘I’ll have the result of the biopsy in a few days.’ Jo avoided answering directly. There was no point in alarming her patient unnecessarily. ‘And I’ll see you in a week to have the stitches out.’
Jo was already running behind time. ‘Same old, same old,’ she murmured, going out to Reception to call in her next patient.
She worked slowly through her list and by twelve-thirty she’d begun to wonder how on earth she was going to make the staff meeting on time.
Then the fates looked kindly on her. Vicki popped her head in. ‘Toni Morris just cancelled, Jo. Said her little one’s feeling much better. Thinks it was just a twenty-four-hour bug. He’s had a light meal, kept it down and is looking brighter.’
Jo pushed her chair back and stretched. ‘Excellent. Thanks, Vic.’
Vicki departed with a fluttered wave and Jo swung to her feet and walked to the window. Her consulting room was at the rear of the sprawling low-set building and she loved the view. It was the first week of September and spring had come with a burst of colour. Jo noticed even the old mango tree was drooping with blossoms, ensuring a bumper feast of the tropical fruit for the long hot summer ahead.
How I love this place, she thought, her gaze stretching across to the paddocks already knee-deep in summer crops of baby corn, melons and tomatoes. She shook her head. Why did she have the feeling that everything was about to change?
She turned as her phone rang. It was Angelo, straight to the point.
‘Had time to look over Brady’s CV yet, Jo?’
Jo stole a guilty look at her watch. ‘Just about to. I’ve been flat to the boards.’
‘Me, too. See you in a bit, then.’
‘Yes.’ So much for holidays, she thought dryly, clipping the receiver back on its rest. She was beginning to feel she’d never been away.
Collecting the file Monica had given her, she dropped back into the chair. ‘OK, Brady McNeal,’ she murmured, ‘let’s see what you have to offer.’
With the file on the desk in front of her, Jo leaned forward. In a reflex action she shielded her eyes. It felt odd to be reading the man’s very personal background information. Odd and strangely intrusive.
Well, there was nothing she could do about it, she rationalised.
And the further she read, the more she realised Brady McNeal seemed a very good choice for their particular needs. Or was her judgment being clouded by the fact she’d already interacted with the man?
And been attracted.
She took a deep breath, feeling the swirl of mixed emotions well up like a balloon inside her chest.
* * *
Jo ran a brush through her hair and added a dash of lipstick, before joining the others in the staffroom for their working lunch.
With quiet efficiency, Monica had set out sandwiches and a fruit platter and topped up the coffee-maker in readiness. ‘There’s hot water in the vacuum jug if anyone wants to make tea,’ she said.
‘Oh, yes, please, Monica.’ Jo got down a mug and broke open a new packet of teabags.
‘One for me too, please, Jo, while you’re there.’
Jo heard Ralph Mitchell’s voice rumble from the doorway, and smiled. ‘Coming up. Angelo?’
‘Coffee for me, thanks. I’ll get it. Anyone seen Tom?’
‘Someone taking my name in vain?’ Tom Yardley, the fourth doctor in the practice, catapulted in, dumped several files on the table and whooped, ‘Jo! Nice to have you back with us, babe.’
Jo made a face at the fair-haired young man and then grinned. ‘Nice to be back.’ She liked Tom. He was young, only twenty-nine, but already he was shaping up as an excellent GP. He’d been reared in the district and his parents were still teaching at the local high school. He loved being home again but, of course, these days he had his own place.
‘I want to thank you all for being so proactive about this situation,’ Ralph said quietly, a bit later, as the doctors sat around the table. ‘I hadn’t mentioned it before because I didn’t want to put more pressure on you to find a new partner, but one of our grandsons has been diagnosed with leukaemia.’
There was a hush around the table. Then Jo said softly, ‘I’m so sorry, Ralph.’
‘That goes for all of us, mate.’ Angelo looked shaken.
Tom had reined in his usual hearty manner to convey earnestly, ‘If they’ve managed to zap it early, the prognosis for childhood leukaemia is very positive these days.’
‘We’re hanging onto that.’ Ralph’s face worked for a second. ‘And Michael is a stoic little chap. Came through his first lot of chemo pretty well. And the staff at the Mater Children’s are nothing short of brilliant.’
‘So, I imagine you and Lilian will want to get away as soon as possible…’ Jo felt a hard lump in her chest and gripped her tea-mug tightly.
Ralph nodded. ‘We’d like to be some support for the parents, of course. There are two younger kiddies. And Karen and Steve naturally want to spend as much time at the hospital with Michael as they can.’
‘In that case, don’t feel you have to stick around to mentor Brady,’ Angelo said decisively. ‘I’m sure between the lot of us, plus Monica, we can get him up to speed and feeling a part of the practice in no time.’
‘Not than we won’t miss you greatly, Ralph.’ Jo bit the inside of her bottom lip. In reality, she hated the thought of Ralph leaving. He’d been the anchor at the Mt Pryde medical centre for ages. And whether the staff realised it or not, they all in some way depended on his quiet wisdom and the gentle way he handled matters.
The thought of Brady McNeal, with all his unknown quantities, replacing him was suddenly leaving Jo feeling very unsettled.
As if he’d gauged her thoughts, Ralph linked the medical team with his kind blue gaze. ‘I’d like to think the Mt Pryde practice will go on providing quality care for its patients and I know you’ll all do your utmost to help Brady settle in. I understand you’re giving him a hand to find some suitable care for his son, Jo?’
Jo’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Until I know exactly what kind of hours and so on he’ll need, I can’t really organise anything. But I will ring around this afternoon and at least get a feel for what’s available.’
‘A family day care mother might be his best shot,’ Tom offered.
‘Maybe.’ Jo took a steadying breath. ‘Dr McNeal may have some ideas of his own.’ Well, she hoped he would. ‘We’ll see later this afternoon, when he gets here.’
Angelo’s dark brows peaked. ‘And having read his CV, Jo, do you have any reservations about Brady’s appointment?’
‘He seems well rounded,’ Jo said carefully. ‘Obviously his experience in rural medicine will stand him in good stead here. And if you all think personality-wise he’ll fit in…?’
‘I had a long chat to him.’ Ralph sought to put Jo’s uncertainties to rest. ‘I think he’ll be very co-operative and he wants to make a home here. That should make all the difference to our acceptance of him and he of us—if that makes sense.’ The senior doctor sent a wry smile around the table.
‘All the sense in the world,’ Angelo concurred heartily. ‘And now, Ralph, I know the circumstances of your leaving aren’t ideal but you can’t slope off without a farewell of some kind.’
‘There’s really no need—’ Ralph’s mild protest was howled down immediately. ‘Well, all right, then. Thank you all very much. I know Lilian will appreciate it.’