The GP's Marriage Wish. Judy Campbell
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his strong face a study in anger. ‘As I remember it from school, you do have a tendency to blurt out opinions without backing them up with evidence.’
Victoria laughed—it was such a preposterous statement. ‘What the hell are you talking about? For goodness’ sake, dragging up school days!’ She looked at him scornfully. ‘Perhaps it would be as well not to go back there.’
For a second he looked slightly abashed—perhaps he was remembering that night when he’d been so insulting to her, and she pressed home her point. ‘To be honest, I don’t know how we’re going to work together if you’re going to be so rude—in fact, I give our partnership a week or two at the most if this goes on.’
His strong face relaxed into a grin, making him look quite boyish, and he raised his hands in contrition. ‘OK, OK, so I spoke slightly out of turn. But it’s no good looking back at how the place was run and apportioning blame.’
Those blue eyes revealed a twinkle of laughter in them, holding Victoria’s with a teasing charm, and to her continued annoyance she felt a treacherous and brief flicker of response to the sexy aura he exuded. Something about his eyes and the amused quirk of his mouth, she supposed. He had a point about looking back, though—the only way they could work together was to deal with the present problems and not point a finger at either John or Betty for causing them. Connor shot a look at his watch.
‘Well, it’s time to take the plunge now. We’d better thrash over these problems later—in the pub after work tonight suit you?’
Victoria shrugged unenthusiastically. She knew she wanted this particular day to finish early, to digest the news she’d received in the post that morning and wallow in a bit of nostalgia for things past. Discussing the troubles of the practice at the end of the day sounded very unappealing. ‘OK, I suppose so…’ She sighed.
‘Don’t sound so keen.’ Connor put his hands on the desk and looked at her appraisingly with those startling blue eyes. ‘Look, I can tell you aren’t over the moon about working with me, but we’ve said we’ll give it a go, so in the circumstances we’ll have to make the best of things.’
‘I agree with you,’ she said coldly. ‘We need to pull together to make a success of the practice, and I’m quite prepared to do that. I’ll meet you tonight to discuss things, even though it’s not actually very convenient.’
‘Good,’ he said briskly, gathering up some papers and making for the door. He looked back at her before he went out. ‘By the way, if you need any help, let me know.’
Victoria’s face burned with irritation. He might have been trying to be helpful, but she interpreted his offer as slightly patronising. She controlled her voice with an effort.
‘I think I can manage quite well, thank you—after all, I’m just as experienced as you.’
He raised an eyebrow and gave a low chuckle. Victoria had become much more assertive than he remembered! ‘Just a suggestion, Freckles—lighten up a bit. No need to be so deadly serious!’
He’d gone before she could think of a timely retort and indignantly she snatched up her bag. This was a fine start to the first day of work at The Cedars!
Her heart was thumping angrily as she stalked out and made her way to her room. She was cross with herself for allowing him to get under her skin—but she was a grown up now and in future she would maintain a dignified and professional approach, however much he irritated her, she told herself sternly.
Her first patient that morning was Janet Loxton, middle-aged and immaculately dressed in a tan suit with a black scarf draped elegantly round her neck. She sat down on the edge of the chair and Victoria took a deep breath and tried to calm down while she listened to the woman. Mrs Loxton’s look was unnervingly hostile.
‘I wanted to see your mother—she’s my usual doctor,’ was the unpromising start. ‘I must say I’m shocked to hear she’s left the practice.’
‘She felt it was time to retire,’ explained Victoria. ‘She’s now married to Dr Saunders and they plan to go away for a rest.’
‘She might have given us more notice.’ A deep sigh. ‘Anyway, I suppose we’ll have to get used to you.’
I seem to be surrounded by rude people, thought Victoria wryly, but she fixed a smile on her face and said soothingly, ‘I’m sure when you get to know us better, things will be easier.’
Janet gave a cynical grunt, then said abruptly, ‘I need sleeping pills. I’m awake all night and I’m run off my feet all day, looking after my father…’
Victoria groaned inwardly. It was Sod’s Law that her first patient would start off with what she called a ‘heart-sink consultation’. Giving sleeping tablets was something she was very reluctant to do, feeling it was a fob-off for a quick result, and didn’t tackle the underlying causes—but in her experience the patient was usually adamant about having some!
‘And is this insomnia something new?’ asked Victoria.
‘Oh, no, I’ve had it before. I suppose it’s worry… Anyway, you’ll see that Dr Sorensen always gave me something for it. Just give me the same things, please.’
The woman’s tone was peremptory, trying to hurry the consultation along. Victoria peered at the patient’s notes on the computer and saw that her mother had indeed prescribed sleeping tablets in the past, but she was damned if she was going to just hand them out like sweets on demand.
‘Do you work as well as look after your father?’ she asked.
‘I have a part-time job at the dress shop in the village. It saves my sanity. The rest of my time is spent running after an old man who needs professional help.’
‘I take it he lives with you?’
‘Yes…has done for the last five years. He needs to go in a home, though, but that’s absolutely out as far as he’s concerned.’
Victoria leant forward and looked at the woman sympathetically. ‘It can’t be an easy situation for you…’
‘Of course it’s not!’ snapped Janet. For a second her mouth trembled, revealing very briefly the strain she was under. ‘That’s why I need these pills—I’ve got to get some rest.’
‘Have you spoken to Social Services about getting help?’
Janet gave a humourless laugh. ‘Oh, they’ve sent people in to give him baths, tidy him up a bit, but he’s just sent them packing—he can be very rude when he wants to. Refuses to have anything to do with them. Do you wonder that I can’t sleep?’
‘Mrs Loxton,’ said Victoria gently, ‘you can’t keep on these tablets for ever, and anyway the effect begins to wear off when you have them continually. You can develop a tolerance for them and need a higher dose to have the same effect.’
The patient leant forward and said intensely, ‘I know all the pitfalls—you don’t have to tell me. Your mother gave them to me, and I don’t see why you just can’t give me some without all these questions.’
‘I can’t just hand out prescriptions because my mother gave them to you,’ said Victoria firmly. ‘Your circumstances and health may have changed since you last saw her. However, I will give you a low dose of Triazolone—a ten-day course to try and get you back on an organised sleep pattern. But sleep disorders can be caused by a number of factors and I want you to try what we call sleep hygiene.’
Janet looked puzzled and Victoria smiled. ‘Nothing to do with being clean! It’s a kind of routine—wind down at the end of the day, don’t stimulate your brain with television or exciting reading, and obviously cut out caffeine, and have a warm drink before you go to bed.’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll do all that,’ said the woman impatiently.
Victoria looked at her patient reflectively. ‘You know, what you could do with is some respite care for