The Doctor's Engagement Page 5

  ‘I suppose that sounds all right.’ Holly shrugged. ‘In that case I’ll go and get ready. How dressy is the yacht club?’

  Mark reached into his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of fawn trousers and a pristine white shirt. ‘Quite dressy.’

  Which meant digging through her rather limited wardrobe to find something that would suit Mark’s ‘fiancée’. Normally the man dated models and women who spent half their days in beauty salons. Holly glanced down at her short, practical nails in despair. She just wasn’t Mark’s type. How was she ever going to be convincing?

  * * *

  The yacht club was situated just beyond the fishing village with views across the headland and the estuary.

  Mark pulled into the car park and Holly grinned as he parked his beloved sports car carefully by a low wall.

  ‘Have you ever found a woman you love as much as this car?’ she teased, and he pulled a face.

  ‘Definitely not.’ He looked across at her and his eyes narrowed. ‘By the way, you look great. That colour suits you.’

  She was wearing a strappy, green silk dress that looked good with her blonde hair and showed more than a hint of bare leg. As they walked into the yacht club, female heads turned to look at Mark and Holly was doubly glad that she’d made an effort with her appearance.

  The restaurant was already filling up and Mark smiled and lifted a hand to a man sitting at one of the best tables.

  ‘There’s Ian.’ He led her across the restaurant and shook hands with the older man. ‘How are you, Ian? You’ve already met my Holly.’

  My Holly.

  For a minute Holly felt a strange feeling in her stomach and then she dismissed it and smiled warmly at the senior partner.

  ‘It’s nice to see you again.’ She felt slightly shy, but the older man immediately put her at her ease.

  ‘I can’t say how delighted we are to welcome you here, my dear,’ he said, pulling out a chair for her and seating her before he returned to his own chair. ‘We were desperate for a practice nurse and when Mark told us his own predicament—how he’d just got engaged but you were so far away—it all seemed too perfect to be true.’

  ‘I’m glad to help,’ Holly said quietly, suddenly feeling a flash of guilt that they were deceiving this nice man. ‘You must fill me in on what your main priorities are in the practice and tell me exactly how you want me to spend my time. We didn’t really talk about the detail when we met in London.’

  ‘Oh, plenty of time for that,’ Ian said cheerfully, waving to a waiter and ordering them some drinks. ‘Have a menu, Holly.’

  The evening passed quickly and Holly found herself chatting openly to Ian, telling him about her childhood in London and how she and Mark had known each other virtually all their lives.

  ‘Our parents lived next door to each other and were great friends,’ she told him. ‘Mark and I went to the same school and then trained in the same hospital, although Mark was there before me, of course. I suppose I’ve known him all my life really.’

  ‘And you suddenly discovered that you were more than friends.’ Ian sat back in his chair and put down his knife and fork. ‘That’s lovely. They always say that the very best relationships start with friendship. My wife would love your story. I’m afraid she couldn’t join us tonight because she’s babysitting our grandchild, but you’ll meet her soon.’

  Holly blushed and felt horribly uncomfortable. Could she keep this up?

  ‘Why don’t we fill Holly in on the different clinics?’ Mark suggested smoothly, clearly aware of her discomfort.

  Holly glanced at him gratefully. ‘That would be very helpful.’

  ‘The clinics?’ Ian watched the waiter clear their plates. ‘Well, the main one is our coronary heart disease clinic. We have a surprisingly high rate of coronary heart disease in this area. I say surprisingly, because one wouldn’t expect it of a fishing port, but there you go!’

  ‘So you run a clinic?’ Holly shook her head when the waiter offered her the dessert menu. ‘What sort of clinic? Screening?’

  ‘Actually, more of a lifestyle clinic, although there is some screening involved.’ Ian ordered coffees and smiled at Holly. ‘As you well know, a myocardial infarction—or heart attack as the layman calls it—is part of a chronic disease process. There is some evidence that behaviour modification counselling increases healthy lifestyles.’

  Holly nodded. ‘I know that patients who have already had a heart attack seem to benefit from secondary prevention clinics.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Ian murmured his thanks as the waiter poured the coffee. ‘Which was how our lifestyle clinic started. We run it as a team—dieticians, GPs, health visitors, practice nurse—and we give each patient their own personalised lifestyle plan. It works brilliantly.’

  ‘In fact, it works so brilliantly,’ Mark interjected, ‘that nearly all the other neighbouring practices have started to do the same thing.’

  Holly sipped her coffee. ‘So if someone needs dietary advice they see the dietician and if they’re smoking—’

  ‘Then we give them counselling directed at behavioural and attitudinal change,’ Ian finished. ‘And, of course, we use nicotine replacement if it’s appropriate. Have you had any training in behavioural counselling?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Holly played idly with a teaspoon. ‘The course I did trained us to assess whether a patient was ready to change and to use things like goal-setting and specific behavioural advice.’

  ‘I knew you were going to be an asset.’ Ian smiled and continued, ‘As well as diet and smoking, we also look at their levels of physical activity. In fact, we even joined forces with the leisure centre and were offering different grades of exercise classes at one point, but unfortunately the instructor had a nasty car accident a few months ago so that’s fizzled out.’

  Holly tipped her head on one side as she listened. ‘I could do that,’ she said impulsively, glancing shyly at Mark. ‘I’m a trained aerobics and keep-fit instructor, remember?’

  ‘So you are.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I’d totally forgotten that. She’s right, Ian, she could take some of the classes.’

  Ian was delighted. ‘Lots of the women in particular have been quite upset at missing their exercise sessions, so that would be fantastic.’

  Holly blushed. ‘Well, that’s fine, then. When does it all happen?’

  ‘We do the lifestyle clinics one evening a week and we all help out so it’s pretty busy, but it seems to work.’

  ‘Presumably there’s a group discussion element, too?’ Holly asked. ‘Allowing people to talk about any problems they’ve been having or any worries?’

  ‘We haven’t done that to date...’ Ian frowned thoughtfully. ‘But it would be a great idea. I’d never thought of it, to be honest. We’ve always just seen people as individuals, but I think it would be very popular. The patients already meet up and chat informally while they’re waiting to be seen. It would need someone to chair it, of course. I don’t suppose I could tempt you?’

  ‘You probably could.’ Holly smiled, pleased to help. ‘Perhaps with one of the dieticians because I’m sure some of the problems will be around weight control.’

  ‘That would be excellent.’ Ian beamed at Mark. ‘I can see why you love this woman. Not only stunningly beautiful but clever and enthusiastic as well.’

  Stunningly beautiful? Not by any stretch of the imagination, Holly thought, catching Mark’s eye and trying not to laugh.

  ‘Tell me about the other clinics,’ she prompted, draining her coffee cup. ‘Immunisation obviously. What’s the uptake like around here?’

  ‘Well, like most practices, we were affected by the MMR scare. We put quite a bit of work into educating the mums and our uptake has gone up again. How did you handle it in your last practice?’

  ‘Much the same way,’ Holly told him. ‘We held a few open evenings, with the immunisation officer and the public health director answering questions.’

  ‘And Mark tells me
you used to work in A and E together.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Holly smiled and exchanged a warm look with Mark. They’d had a lot of fun working in A and E.

  Ian nodded. ‘And then you joined an inner city practice in London. That must have had its stresses.’

  Holly’s heart started to race and her smile froze. She’d been careful at the interview not to discuss her reasons for leaving her last job in too much detail, and so she could only murmur an agreement whilst hiding her shaking hands in her napkin.

  ‘Holly’s a brilliant practice nurse,’ Mark interjected smoothly, his sharp gaze fixed on her pale face. ‘She’s already seen several patients for us today.’

  ‘Yes, Caroline rang and told me.’ Ian frowned briefly and then smiled. ‘It was very kind of you to step into the breach, Holly.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘Well, I know you’re going to fit in well,’ Ian said cheerfully. ‘And I can see just how happy and natural the two of you are together. You’re obviously a perfect match. So welcome to Cornwall and Harbour Medical Centre.’

  Holly relaxed and smiled in response, and her eyes met Mark’s. He was looking at her with a warmth and affection that made her heart turn over, even though she knew he was just acting.

  What would it be like to have a man look like that at you and mean it? Especially a man like Mark?

  Flustered, she glanced back at Ian, thinking again what a nice man he was. Slightly overweight, in his late fifties, Holly guessed, he was cheerful and solid and she was sure he’d be an excellent senior partner. She could see now why Mark was so attached to this place. It was wonderful. And she could see why he was so desperate to sort out the problem of Caroline. But was this ever going to work? Could she be convincing?

  CHAPTER THREE

  TO HOLLY’S relief, Caroline had the first part of the week off, which gave her a chance to settle in and get to know the other members of the team without worrying about her relationship with the other woman. She was relieved to find that things were run along similar lines to her old practice, which meant that, professionally at least, she felt confident.

  On a personal basis she felt anything but confident. In front of his colleagues Mark treated her with total professionalism combined with a hint of warmth which suggested a more intimate relationship, and at home he was the same Mark she’d always known. In fact, she couldn’t fault him—so why did being around him make her so nervous?

  Despite her qualms the week flew by, and after lunch on Thursday Holly prepared for her first immunisation clinic.

  ‘We generally have a very good turnout on both a Thursday and a Friday.’ Debra Flint, the health visitor, was busy checking the list. ‘Oh, good, little baby Watts is due for his first lot of jabs today. I’m worried about Mum, to be honest, so I’ll be pleased if she turns up. She seems very depressed.’

  ‘Is it her first baby?’ Holly checked through the fridge for the various vaccines.

  ‘Yes, and she’s been very low, but she had an awful delivery so that’s hardly surprising.’ Debra frowned. ‘I must talk to Mark about it because he was the one that referred her back to the hospital.’

  Holly began to sort out some ‘certificates of bravery’ which were always helpful for the older children. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Well, she had a forceps delivery which went wrong and her bowel was perforated. Very nasty.’ Debra fiddled with her pen thoughtfully. ‘I have to say that the hospital was pretty hopeless. Mark was the one who diagnosed the problem in the end. You wouldn’t believe what he said to the hospital! Let’s just say he didn’t mince his words and they sorted the problem out pretty sharpish.’

  Holly gave a short laugh. ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Well, of course you can, how silly of me.’ Debra gave her an apologetic smile. ‘You’re engaged to him, for goodness’ sake. You know better than anyone that he doesn’t tolerate sloppiness. He’s one of the brightest, most thorough doctors I’ve ever worked with. You’re a lucky girl.’

  Holly blushed slightly. ‘Oh—Yes, I know.’

  Oh, help! She hoped Debra didn’t want a sisterly chat about her relationship with Mark.

  ‘Anyway, Anna Watts has been pretty down ever since the birth.’

  Holly frowned. ‘Isn’t there a questionnaire you use to diagnose postnatal depression—the Edinburgh scale or something?’

  ‘The Edinburgh postnatal depression scale, that’s right.’ Debra tucked her pen back in the pocket of her blouse. ‘She refused to do it last time I saw her and she hasn’t been to clinic since. I can’t seem to get near her to develop a relationship, although fortunately Mark saw a lot of her when she delivered eight weeks ago. She does seem to trust him, which is good. But all the same I’m relieved to see her name on the list today. It’ll give me a chance to have a chat with her.’

  Tina, one of the receptionists, popped her head round the door. ‘The waiting room is like a nursery and the children are driving us mad. Are you ready to start?’

  Debra grinned. ‘Let battle commence!’

  For the next two hours Holly was kept busy, reassuring anxious mothers, soothing screaming babies and giving various immunisations according to the age of the child.

  One mother in particular, Sylvia Bates, was very anxious about her thirteen-month-old daughter having the measles, mumps and rubella injection.

  ‘I’ve read such awful things about MMR,’ she confessed. ‘If I have her done and she’s damaged in some way I’ll never forgive myself. I don’t know what to do.’

  Holly gave a sympathetic nod. ‘It seems like a difficult decision, I know, but the number of children who have had a bad reaction to immunisation is such a tiny minority of the millions who have been immunised.’

  Sylvia bit her lip. ‘But can you guarantee there’s no risk?’

  ‘No,’ Holly said honestly. ‘All vaccinations carry an element of risk, but you have to measure that against the risk of the illness itself. Measles, mumps and rubella are highly infectious diseases, and if children catch them they can suffer serious problems.’

  ‘But you so rarely see those diseases now,’ Sylvia murmured, and Holly gave a gentle smile.

  ‘And that’s thanks to the success of our vaccination programme.’

  ‘That’s what my mum says,’ Sylvia mumbled. ‘A cousin of hers died of measles when my mum was young but, of course, we don’t see it any more so you forget it can be serious.’

  Holly nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

  Sylvia gave a groan. ‘Oh, I don’t know what to do...’

  ‘What does your husband think?’

  ‘He leaves all the decisions like that to me.’ Sylvia rolled her eyes. ‘Men! Oh, well, I suppose I’d better have her done.’

  Holly frowned slightly. ‘Don’t feel coerced, Sylvia. It’s important that you feel comfortable with your decision. Would you like to go away and think about it and come back on another occasion?’

  ‘No.’ Sylvia shook her head. ‘Definitely not. If she caught the illnesses I’d never forgive myself. Just do it, please!’

  Debra scribbled down the batch number of the immunisation in the child health record and Holly quickly gave the injection.

  ‘There we are.’ She handed the child a toy and gave Sylvia a patient information leaflet. ‘She may be a little fractious tonight and with MMR they sometimes develop a mild reaction seven to ten days after the injection.’

  Sylvia tucked the leaflet into her handbag. ‘What sort of reaction?’

  ‘They sometimes get a rash and a fever,’ Holly explained. ‘The leaflet gives you all the information you need, but if you have any worries at all, just give us a call.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Sylvia scooped up the toddler and her handbag and made for the door. ‘And thanks for taking the time to explain.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Holly said quietly, and Debra looked at her with admiration as the door closed.

  ‘Gosh, you’re good at that.’

  ‘Good at what?
’ Holly popped the needle into the sharps bin and washed her hands.

  ‘Good at giving a balanced explanation,’ Debra said. ‘You listened to her fears and you gave her the facts without forcing her in either direction. I gather you’ve had a lot of practice at it.’

  ‘Well, the last MMR scare that was in the papers certainly affected people badly, and who can blame them?’ Holly frowned and shook her head, her blonde ponytail swinging jauntily. ‘Those scare headlines do nothing for the confidence of the public.’

  ‘I know.’ Debra crossed Sylvia’s name off her list. ‘We had a similar problem with that HRT scare. The surgery phone never stopped ringing and the doctors spent an entire week seeing nothing but worried women taking HRT.’

  ‘So how are we doing?’ Holly glanced over her shoulder. ‘Just Mrs Watts left?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Debra stood up and adjusted her blouse. ‘I’ll give her a shout.’

  Anna Watts was a pale, quiet girl in her mid-twenties and she arrived with the baby in a car seat.

  ‘How have you been, Anna?’ Debra asked gently, helping her unstrap the baby from the car seat.

  ‘Fine.’ Anna lifted the baby up gingerly and settled him on her lap, holding the small bundle awkwardly.

  Holly frowned. New mothers weren’t usually so uncommunicative. Of course, Anna might just be a shy person, but still...

  ‘I’m the new practice nurse,’ she said gently, her green eyes warm and friendly, ‘and we haven’t met before. The baby’s beautiful. Boy or girl?’

  ‘Boy.’ Anna stared down at the bundle in her arms, her expression blank.

  ‘And what’s he called?’ Holly dropped to her knees so that she was closer to baby and mother.

  ‘Harry.’

  ‘Nice name.’ Ouch. Anna Watts clearly didn’t want to talk at all, and all Holly’s instincts were telling her that Debra was right and the woman was depressed. She seemed totally uninterested in anything, including the baby. ‘I don’t have any children, but I’ve always thought it must be very hard, adjusting to being a mum all of a sudden.’

  Anna looked at her properly for the first time. ‘It is.’ Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. ‘And I’m no good at it. I’m a hopeless mum.’