CHAPTER ONE

      ‘DO YOU believe in love at first sight?’

      This dreamy question, inserted into a debate that had up to this point revolved around whether the current flu outbreak was going to reach epidemic proportions, brought an exchange of amused, indulgent looks from the other women who had gathered, coffee-mugs in hand, around Dr Phoebe Miller’s desk.

      ‘I don’t suppose there’s much point asking whether you do, Sally?’ Fran Green, the health visitor attached to the Hayfield Surgery, remarked dryly, pushing her mug aside and getting to her feet.

      There was a general murmur of low-voiced laughter in response to this comment. Sally, the most junior receptionist to join the practice reluctantly withdrew her gaze from the brand-new diamond ring sparkling on her finger.

      ‘What?’ she demanded defensively, a self-conscious flush mounting the smooth contours of her attractive pointed pixie face. ‘It’s not my fault you’re all disgustingly cynical...’ She paused in mid complaint, mindful of practice manager Ellen Patterson’s recent warning that she needed to cultivate a more respectful attitude towards the medical staff. Not that it had ever seemed to her that anyone other than Ellen herself was bothered about such things.

      In fact, Sally couldn’t help but reflect that Hayfield had been a much nicer and more relaxed place to work before the tall, statuesque blonde had returned from her winter holiday on the ski slopes.

      Surgery nurse Grace Winston consulted the fob watch pinned to her ample bosom and swigged back the last dregs of her coffee. She gave the young girl a comforting pat on the shoulder as she, too, got to her feet.

      ‘The girl’s right, ladies. The truth is, Sally, my dear, we’re a bunch of spiteful old cows disgustingly jealous of you and your lovely Marty. You keep hold of your youthful ideals as long as you can,’ she recommended warmly, swiping the last chocolate biscuit off the plate. ‘Come along, Kate,’ she added, turning with a dramatic flourish to the student nurse she had in tow that morning. ‘Flu jabs await us.’

      ‘Good take-up for the flu vaccine this year, Grace?’ Fran asked, checking through her bag to see if she had all the notes she needed for her afternoon visits.

      ‘A lot better than last year...’

       ‘I do.’

      The quietly spoken, dark-haired locum who was gazing through the window, a far-away look in her wide-spaced amber eyes, immediately became the focus of attention.

      If that attention made Phoebe Miller feel self-conscious, she hid it better than the newly engaged eighteen-year-old. This wasn’t entirely surprising. After all, she’d had ten years more practice at doing so. Though when she looked at Sally, Phoebe found it hard to believe she’d ever been as dewy-eyed and idealistic as the young girl.

      No, Phoebe had always been the realist in the family. She’d had enough common sense for both herself and her twin sister, Penny, which, given Penny’s impulsive nature, had been just as well! Occasionally, when she found herself doing or saying the sensible thing, Phoebe wondered if she’d been born cautious or had become that way out of necessity.

      ‘Do what, Phoebe?’

      Phoebe tucked a section of dark shiny hair, which was inclined to escape the simple ponytail that confined her shoulder-length hair, behind her ear.

      ‘I believe in love at first sight,’ she mumbled reluctantly. Some things, she reflected uneasily, were better left unsaid.

      Grace silently motioned the student nurse back from the door and eased her generously padded bottom back into a chair. ‘What was that you said, Phoebe?’

      Phoebe gritted her teeth and smiled in the face of mounting embarrassment.