The Celebrity Doctor's Proposal Page 3

  She switched on her computer and pressed the buzzer for her first patient. Seconds later there was a tap on the door and a young mother entered, struggling with a wriggling toddler.

  ‘Hello, Heather, how are things?’ Anna had been in the year above Heather at school and the two of them were still friends.

  That was the wonderful thing about general practice, she mused as she stood up and walked around her desk to admire the baby. You knew the patients. Not like Accident and Emergency where she’d spent six months during her GP rotational training. There the patients were little more than cases and numbers. In general practice the patients had lives. They were real. And the family doctor was part of all that. It was a job worth doing.

  ‘It isn’t me, Anna,’ Heather murmured, settling herself in the chair and trying to persuade the whining toddler to sit still with her. ‘It’s Grace. She’s had a personality change lately and, frankly, I’m ready to scream.’

  Anna reached for her favourite puppet and slipped her hand inside. ‘Hi, Grace,’ she said cheerfully, waggling the furry fox at the toddler. ‘Nice of you to visit me.’

  The little girl stopped grizzling at once and stared at the puppet, transfixed. Then she held out a hand to stroke its nose. ‘Fox.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Anna waggled the puppet. ‘Fox.’ While the little girl’s attention was caught she questioned the mother. ‘So what’s been happening, Heather?’

  ‘It’s Grace. She just doesn’t seem to listen to me any more,’ the young mother said helplessly. ‘She takes absolutely no notice of anything I say and she’s so loud all of a sudden. She shouts all the time.’

  Anna frowned. ‘How long has it been going on for?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Heather shrugged. ‘A couple of months, I suppose. We had a terrible winter with her as you know. We virtually lived in your surgery with colds.’

  Anna tickled Grace’s ear with the puppet and reached across her desk for some equipment. ‘How’s her speech?’

  ‘Well, she was doing really well but if anything she’s slipped back.’ Heather gave a rueful smile and cuddled the little girl closer. ‘Whoever said being a mother was easy? Do you think it’s just her age? That she’s just being naughty?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I suspect that she might have glue ear,’ Anna said calmly, judging whether it was a good moment to abandon the fox in favour of a clinical examination. ‘Heather, hold out your hand. I need you to take over acting duties while I take a look at her ears.’

  Heather dutifully slipped her hand inside the puppet, leaving Anna to concentrate on the little girl.

  ‘Grace, I’m just going to look inside the fox’s ears,’ she said cheerfully, ‘and then I’m going to look inside yours.’

  Grace watched with round eyes as Anna pretended to look inside the puppet’s ears, then she sat still while Anna gently used the auriscope to examine her.

  ‘I’m just checking that there’s no wax or foreign bodies,’ she murmured as she examined the eardrum. ‘Oh, yes, there’s the problem. I see it. The eardrum is very dull and looks indrawn. She definitely has glue ear.’

  ‘Glue ear?’ Heather frowned. ‘What exactly is that?’

  ‘It’s a condition where the child has fluid deep in the ear,’ Anna explained, ‘but without signs of infection. It’s called glue ear because the fluid tends to be like runny glue—thick, clear and sticky.’

  Heather pulled a face. ‘Sounds awful. But why does that make her shout?’

  ‘Because I suspect it is affecting her hearing.’ Anna reached for a pad and scribbled a simple diagram. ‘People can hear because sound waves are transmitted via their eardrums and tiny bones inside the middle ear. The eardrum and bones vibrate.’

  Heather stared at the diagram and pulled a face. ‘I was always bottom in biology.’

  Anna smiled and put the pencil down. ‘Doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that in glue ear the middle ear, which is usually full of air, becomes filled with a sticky fluid and that damps down the vibrations.’

  ‘And stops the child from hearing?’

  ‘It can do.’ Anna stood up. ‘It’s very common in children so don’t think Grace is the only one. Speech is affected because she isn’t hearing well.’

  ‘So what do we do about it?’

  ‘Fortunately glue ear almost always settles down of its own accord but if Grace’s hearing gets worse then we may need to look at referring her to an ENT specialist. But at the moment I don’t think we should do that. I’m going to refer her to the audiology department for an assessment of her hearing and we’ll take it from there.’

  ‘So she doesn’t need antibiotics or anything now?’

  Anna shook her head. ‘She doesn’t have an infection so they won’t work. I’m fairly confident that if we leave it alone it will go by itself, but we’ll keep a close eye on it and if we’re worried at any point then we can refer her.’

  ‘I’m not wild about her having an operation,’ Heather admitted, and Anna smiled sympathetically.

  ‘I doubt it will be necessary so let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. I’ll refer her to Audiology today and you’ll get a letter from them in the next month or so, inviting Grace to come for a test.’

  ‘Thanks, Anna.’ Heather stood up and brushed her curls away from her face, her cheeks slightly pink. ‘I heard a rumour that our Sam’s back. Is it true that he’s going to be working here for the summer?’

  Anna stiffened. Not if she could find a way out of it. ‘Well, he’s here at the moment, but he may not be able to stay for the whole summer.’

  At least, not if she had anything to do with it.

  ‘Oh, I hope he can,’ Heather enthused, shifting the toddler more comfortably in her arms. ‘I mean, it’s so brilliant having him. I never miss him on the telly. He’s so sympathetic, isn’t he? So warm. Can’t believe it’s our Sam, really.’

  Our Sam.

  Anna clamped her jaws together and resisted the temptation to point out that Sam McKenna was a gifted actor and was warm when it suited him to appear that way. With her he was about as warm as the polar icepack.

  Then she remembered that Heather had had a massive crush on Sam when they’d been at school. As had most of the girls. Except her.

  Anna rolled her eyes. She and Sam had been thrown together a lot because of their parents’ working relationship and at one time she knew that both sets of parents had harboured a fond hope that they might take over the practice. But that had never been an option for Sam. He hadn’t been able to wait to get away.

  And just as well, she thought briskly, otherwise there would have been bloodshed. She and Sam would not have made a good partnership. They clashed on just about everything.

  Heather was still talking. ‘Everyone thinks it would be great if he stayed permanently,’ she gossiped happily. ‘I mean, it used to be both your dads, then it was you and his dad and now it could be the two of you.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Anna rose to her feet so rapidly she almost knocked the chair over. Aware that Heather was looking at her in surprise, Anna produced a smile. ‘You’re jumping the gun, Heather. This is temporary. Just temporary.’

  And she certainly didn’t want that sort of gossip and speculation spreading around the village.

  ‘Well, you never really know how things are going to turn out, do you?’ Heather said sagely, standing up and reaching for her bag. ‘Thanks, Anna. See you soon.’

  She left the surgery and Anna stared after her. Heather had said, Everyone thinks. So did that mean that everyone in the village were already aware that Sam was here? Did that mean that the whole village already thought that this might be a permanent arrangement?

  No, no, no.

  She covered her face with her hands and stifled a groan. If it turned out to be a permanent arrangement then she would have to leave. There was no way she could spend every day working alongside Sam. Her blood pressure wouldn’t be able to stand it.

  But he wouldn’
t stay, she consoled herself, applying logic to the situation. No way. Sam had chosen a very different life for himself. The City. Bright lights. Fame and fortune. He wouldn’t last five minutes in a sleepy Cornish fishing village. In fact, she doubted he’d even last the summer. He’d already made it clear that there wasn’t enough here to keep him entertained.

  Cheered by that thought, she buzzed for her next patient and steadily worked her way through her afternoon list.

  When she finally emerged from her surgery, she found Glenda deep in conversation with Sam who was perched on the desk, an intent expression on his handsome face.

  Glenda coloured and broke off the moment she saw Anna, and Sam slid off the desk and walked towards her.

  ‘So, how did your surgery go, Riggs? Nothing you needed to ask me about?’

  She ignored his sarcastic tone and gave him a withering look. ‘When I need help, I’ll consult a textbook.’

  ‘How boring,’ he drawled, lifting a hand and tucking a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear. ‘Better watch it, the country girl is trying to escape.’

  Country girl.

  It was what he’d always called her when she’d been little. He’d loved to tease her for being so at home in the outdoors. Unlike him, she’d never been comfortable with bright lights and hordes of people.

  Aware that his fingers were still in her hair, she jerked her head away from him with a frosty glare, handed Glenda a pile of results for filing and stalked back to her room. For a moment she just stood there, sucking in deep breaths, and then she moved over to the wash-basin and opened the taps, splashing her face with cold water to cool her burning cheeks.

  ‘Drowning yourself?’

  She reached for the towel, dried her face and turned slowly. ‘Just answer me that one question, McKenna. Why? Why did you come here? We both know that a GP practice in Cornwall isn’t where you see your future. So why are you here? Or have they run out of women in London?’

  He strolled into the room and leaned narrow hips against her desk, wickedly handsome and altogether too dangerous for words. ‘You know the answer to that. I’m here because Dad asked me to come. And because Cornwall isn’t a bad place in the summer.’

  He was winding her up and she knew it. Even he couldn’t fail to like Cornwall in the summer. Especially as being here would undoubtedly allow him to indulge in his favourite sports. She knew he’d be kite-surfing and windsurfing the moment he’d unpacked his suitcase.

  ‘So this is a free holiday.’ She ground her teeth. ‘You could have said no. You should have said no.’

  He raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you know this isn’t going to work, that’s why.’

  ‘I hate to disappoint you but saying no to a sick man, especially when that sick man is my father, isn’t exactly my forte.’ He gazed at one of the photographs on her wall and Anna bit her lip, hating the intrusion into her personal space. ‘That’s nice. Bedruthan steps. Do you remember that time we were almost cut off by the tide? You always loved that beach when we were kids.’

  ‘Stop changing the subject. You could have pretended you couldn’t get away. You could have encouraged him to arrange a locum.’

  ‘He did arrange a locum. Me.’ Sam ran a hand over the back of his neck and shot her an impatient look. ‘All right, you tell me how I was supposed to say no. With Dad so ill and Mum so worried, how was I supposed to say no?’

  ‘You’ve said no before, lots of times.’

  ‘When he’s asked me to join the practice, to be part of the family firm,’ Sam agreed. ‘This is different. This is an emergency. I don’t say no to emergencies.’

  ‘Just to commitment.’ The words were out before she could stop them and even before she saw the narrowing of his eyes she regretted them. ‘Forget I said that. The way you run your life is none of my business.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’ He folded his arms across his chest, his gaze fixed on hers. ‘But the way I run my life clearly bothers you.’

  Suddenly the room felt unusually warm. ‘It doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is that you’re going to swan in here for a few weeks or until you get bored then leave us in the lurch.’

  ‘No, that isn’t what bothers you.’ His gaze didn’t shift. ‘What really bothers you is the fact that you haven’t planned this and we both know that you have to plan everything. You think you have your whole life sorted, don’t you, Riggs?’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with planning.’ She wondered why she was defending herself to someone she didn’t even like.

  ‘Except that life has a way of throwing you surprises. And it’s harder to cope with surprises if you’re inflexible.’

  ‘I’m not inflexible. And you’re not a surprise, McKenna. You’re a nightmare.’

  ‘I promised my father I’d stay for the summer and that’s what I intend to do.’

  ‘Along with your film crew.’

  He shrugged. ‘Life goes on. When I return to London in the autumn I’ll want to pick up where I left off. The film crew is part of my life.’

  Anna shook her head. ‘It isn’t going to work, McKenna.’

  ‘It’ll work if you don’t get all high and mighty on me. Why shouldn’t it?’ He was as direct as she was, hard and uncompromising in his approach to life. ‘Because I’m the only person you can’t control, Riggs? Because I don’t fit your image of a doctor? Because I don’t do things the way you do them?’

  She tilted her head, her gaze cool. ‘Because you drive me nuts.’

  ‘Likewise.’

  Their eyes locked in combat for endless minutes and then she gave a sigh. ‘All right. Let’s look at the facts here. I need help and I don’t have time to look for a new locum. You’re here. You can stay until I find a suitable replacement. But there are rules.’

  ‘You amaze me.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘And there I was thinking you were such a relaxed, laid-back person. Always willing to go with the flow.’

  She chose to ignore his sarcasm. ‘No filming without my permission, and the patients’ permission, and if it interferes with your workload then it stops.’

  His eyes glittered dangerously. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes, actually.’ Her tone was businesslike with just a touch of frost around the edges. ‘I’m the partner in this practice, you’re the locum. You do things my way. If you disagree, we still do things my way.’

  ‘What if my way’s better?’

  She gritted her teeth. He was doing it on purpose, of course. Annoying her. Irritating her. Winding her up so tightly that she was ready to explode. ‘It won’t be. You don’t have any experience of primary care. And even if you did, why would you even care about changing things? We both know you won’t be hanging around long enough to make an impact.’

  He studied her carefully. ‘Unfortunately, Riggs, your rules don’t work for me. If I see something that I think needs changing I’m going to say so and we’re going to talk about it. I may be the locum but I still have an opinion on how the practice is run and you’re going to listen to it. Starting with Glenda.’

  Anna stared at him. ‘What about Glenda?’

  ‘What do you know about her home life?’

  Anna frowned, thrown by the sudden shift in the conversation. ‘Well, I know she lives with her elderly mother in a cottage down by the harbour. Her mother is your father’s patient and to be honest I haven’t seen much of her for the past few years so I can’t honestly say I know her. She doesn’t go out much. Why?’

  ‘Because her mother is the reason Glenda was late this morning. She had her buttons done up in the wrong holes,’ Sam said calmly. ‘She hasn’t told me much yet but she hinted that her mother isn’t herself.’

  ‘I didn’t know that. Your father hasn’t said anything.’ Anna felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t found the time to question Glenda’s lateness herself. If she was honest, she’d found it more annoying than concerning. It hadn’t occurred to her that something migh
t be wrong. She bit her lip. She was the doctor, for goodness’ sake. She should have noticed that Glenda was upset about something.

  It annoyed her that Sam had spotted it first and it made her feel guilty.

  Resolving to talk to the receptionist immediately, Anna poured herself a glass of water and took a few sips.

  ‘This practice is stretched to the limit,’ Sam said grimly, ‘and we need efficient staff. If Glenda can’t perform the role then we need to get someone in who can.’

  Anna slammed the glass down on the table. ‘And what are you proposing to do with Glenda?’ Her eyes sparked into his. ‘Fire her?’

  ‘No, actually.’ He stood in the centre of her consulting room, legs planted firmly apart, totally comfortable and maddeningly sure of himself. ‘Support her. And expecting her to fulfil a full-time employment commitment with what I suspect is a major family problem brewing isn’t support.’

  Anna sagged slightly, her conscience pricking her. ‘Oh, hell. You’re right,’ she muttered, rubbing her fingers across her temples to ease the ache. ‘I should have noticed that something was wrong. She hasn’t been herself for weeks now I come to think of it.’

  ‘Don’t blame yourself.’ Sam’s voice was deep and slightly roughened. It was the voice that turned millions of female viewers to jelly. ‘I know you’ve had your work cut out covering for my father while he’s been so ill. But now it’s time to accept some help. You can’t run the whole show by yourself, Riggs. No matter what you may think of yourself, you’re not superwoman.’

  She felt nothing like superwoman.

  Anna’s hand dropped into her lap. Suddenly she didn’t have the energy to argue. ‘All right.’ Her voice was brisk and professional. ‘We’ll make the best of the situation. You take your father’s surgeries but if you have any queries, you refer them to me.’

  He arched an eyebrow. ‘You think I can’t cope?’

  ‘I think it’s been a long time since you’ve seen real patients. I’m not prepared for you to practise on mine.’

  He would never admit he was wrong and she couldn’t take that risk with people’s lives.

  ‘Fine. If I get stuck, I’ll call.’ His voice was a drawl and she had a feeling he was mocking her. ‘Anything else?’