managed to give Darcy a despairing glance before she was once again enfolded.
‘Um… It seems you two know each other,’ Darcy said.
‘Mmph.’ It was all Ally could manage.
‘And you’re using your grandpa’s name,’ Doris was saying. ‘Dr Westruther. How wonderful is that? I never did like Lindford. Evil is as evil does and…’ She caught herself. ‘Well, he was your father and he’s long dead so maybe I shouldn’t be speaking ill of him. But if your poor mother had just decided to go back to using Westruther…’ She gulped and hauled back, still hanging onto Ally but beaming across at Darcy. ‘Isn’t this just wonderful? A Dr Westruther in Tambrine Creek again after all these years.’
‘She’s a masseur,’ Darcy said, and Ally glowered.
‘Don’t say it like I’m a dung beetle.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, dear,’ Doris told her. ‘He’s the best thing since sliced bread is our Dr Rochester. Do you know, we didn’t have a doctor for five years before he came. And he’s so nice.’
‘I can see that,’ Ally agreed.
‘I did hold the ladder,’ he told her. ‘And I got blue hands.’
‘You scared me.’
‘Your grandpa was the doctor here?’
‘Grandpa died seventeen years ago.’
‘That’s when Ally left town,’ Doris told him. ‘Her father came and took her away. Nothing we could say made any difference. But…he looked after you, didn’t he, lass?’
‘He looked after me,’ Ally agreed tightly.
‘And now you’re back.’
‘I am.’ She made a determined effort to regain control—to pin a cheerful smile on her face and move forward. ‘And I’m here to stay.’
‘Where are you living?’
‘Here. Above the shop.’
‘You can’t do that.’ Doris seemed horrified.
‘Of course I can.’ How to explain to Doris that it was palatial compared to some of the places she’d lived in? ‘And now I’ve met the neighbour and he’s such a sweetheart.’
‘He is nice,’ Doris said, but she’d caught the tone of Ally’s voice and she was starting to sound dubious. ‘You two don’t sound as if you’ve started off on the right foot.’
‘She threw blue paint at my feet,’ Darcy said.
‘I’m sure she didn’t.’ Doris looked from one to the other—and then to Ally’s ladder. ‘You know, that doesn’t look all that safe to me, love.’
‘Just what I was saying.’ Darcy sounded almost triumphant.
‘Tell you what.’ Doris was clearly thinking on her feet. ‘The fleet’s in at the moment. Old Charlie Hammer’s funeral’s this afternoon so the fishermen can’t go out until they see him buried. And everyone’ll be sober until the wake. Why don’t I send a few of the men up here to finish your painting for you, dear? And anything else you might need doing. You know we all respected your grandpa, and everyone’ll be so pleased you’re back. And a doctor, too.’
‘She’s a masseur.’ Darcy was starting to sound a little desperate and Ally gave him her nicest, pitying smile.
‘Doctors can be massage therapists, too,’ she told him. ‘And massage therapists can be doctors.’
‘Are you telling me you seriously plan to make a living in this town?’
‘Of course.’
‘No one will come.’
‘I will,’ Doris said soundly. ‘I like a little massage. Not that I’ve ever had one, of course, but they sound nice. I was telling Henry only the other night that a rub would do me the world of good. Not like those tablets you have me on, Dr Rochester. I’m sure you’re doing your best, but Dr Westruther’s granddaughter… Ooh, I’m that pleased. And I’m sure Gloria will come as soon as she knows about you—her arthritis is something terrible—and my Beryl, and…everyone. I’ll just go and spread the word. It’s wonderful, that’s what it is. It’s just wonderful. Come on, Chloe.’
And with a tug on the unfortunate poodle’s leash, she sailed away to spread the word.
Dr Darcy Rochester was left staring at Dr Ally Westruther. Speechless. While she stared at him and tried to decide where to go from there.
‘You know, you’d really better go and take that paint off,’ Ally said finally. ‘We don’t want you to stay blue for ever, now, do we?’
‘You’re a local?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you’re really setting up for massage.’
‘That seems to be the intention.’
‘That’s fine,’ he said bluntly. ‘But take the “Doctor” off the sign. It’s misleading.’
‘Why is it misleading?’
‘I’m the town’s doctor.’
‘And you don’t want anyone else invading your territory?’
‘If anyone else wanted to invade, I’d be putting up the white flag before the first shot was fired,’ he told her. ‘Do you have any idea how big this district is? I’m run off my feet. But you’re not going to help.’
No, she thought bleakly. She wasn’t. But she may as well reassure him that she wasn’t pretending to practise medicine.
‘If anyone arrives with broken legs or snakebite, you can be sure I’ll send them to you,’ she told him. ‘As I hope you’ll send anyone with muscle soreness to me.’
‘You expect me to refer people to you when you call yourself a doctor?’
‘Don’t be elitist.’
‘Don’t indulge in deception.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Look, Ally…’
This was going nowhere. ‘I have work to do,’ she told him. ‘Your paint is drying.’
‘You can’t do this.’
‘Watch me.’ She sighed. ‘You’re just upset because my sign is bigger than yours.’
‘Some of us have ethical standards.’
‘Well, bully for some of us,’ she snapped. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I have a sign to write and I’ve just decided it needs work. It needs to be bigger.’
He
