be seriously scary when you’re back on your feet.’
‘I’m not scary in the slightest.’ He gave her a wicked look. ‘Though Marion is.’
‘Marion?’
‘Marion Prentiss, our receptionist—she’s one of the old school and a complete dragon.’
‘Bit stereotypical, isn’t it?’
He shrugged. ‘But it works. Nobody misses an appointment at our practice, believe you me. And God help the doctor who’s late for surgery. Though if you’re ill, the first one to be there offering help is our Marion. She’s a pussycat really—you just have to know how to treat her.’
‘So what’s the secret?’
‘Make sure you’re on time—and make her a cup of coffee when you get in. Then there’s Hayley, our practice nurse, the type who’s everyone’s favourite aunty. They’re a good team.’
‘I need time to think about it,’ she warned.
‘Of course you do.’ But there was still something that could put a major spanner in the works. ‘Are you registered up here?’
Mallory nodded. ‘I registered a while back, when I resigned from my last practice. I knew I wanted to stay in Cumbria for a few months and my savings weren’t going to keep me indefinitely. I had the official acceptance through before Christmas—though I was planning to do some climbing before putting my name down on the lists or joining the local association of non-principals.’
‘So the paperwork’s not going to be a problem.’ Will knew it could take over a month to sort out registration. At least he didn’t have to face that hurdle. ‘Good. Go and think about it. Have a look round the surgery in Darrowthwaite tomorrow, meet the gang, see if you like them—I’m sure they’ll like you. If you agree to join us for a while, Nathan can sort out the contractual side of things and references.’ He paused. ‘But if you’re going climbing, you will tell someone where you’re going and when you’ll be back, won’t you?’
She gave him a withering look. ‘Of course. I’ve been climbing for over twenty years, I’ll have you know.’
‘What was that you were saying about pictures in the attic?’ he teased.
‘I started young. Mum’s always been mountain-mad—I was named after the Everest climber George Mallory,’ she said. ‘My brothers and I were climbing almost before we could walk.’
She didn’t mention her father, he noticed.
‘So I’m perfectly aware of the drill—and that if you have to call the rescue services from your mobile phone, tell them you’re in the Lakes because at the top of Scafell you might get connected to the services in Inverness or the Isle of Man.’
‘OK.’ He lifted his uninjured hand in a gesture of surrender. ‘So I was teaching you to suck eggs.’
‘I just like the challenge of climbing,’ she said. ‘Seeing a rockface, getting to the top and knowing that I’ve beaten all the elements by myself.’
Yeah. Will remembered that feeling. He even missed it. But the last time he’d tried to go climbing, he’d only got as far as pulling his boots on. And then the guilt had slammed in. He couldn’t do it any more. He just couldn’t. ‘Mad.’
Her jaw set and he realised he’d spoken aloud. ‘I don’t take stupid risks,’ she informed him tartly.
He hadn’t meant her. But how could he tell her the truth? ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence.’
‘No offence taken.’
‘Good.’ He made himself say it, even though the words reopened his wounds. ‘Go climb your mountain, Mallory.’ He couldn’t resist adding, ‘Safely.’
She gave him a speaking look.
He ignored it. ‘And then tell me what you’ve decided tomorrow.’
‘OK. But you need to get some rest.’ She gathered her belongings together again and this time, Will didn’t protest. ‘Is there anyone you want me to ring for you?’
‘Thanks, but it’s OK. The town grapevine’s pretty good. The minute surgery’s over, no doubt Nathan will be here.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’
‘Yep.’ He dredged up another smile, though he was starting to hurt again. ‘Have a nice evening.’
‘You, too.’
When Mallory closed the cubicle curtain behind her, Will felt strangely bereft. Disappointed, even. Though, of course, she wasn’t going to kiss him goodbye, not even on the cheek. And he had to be off his head, asking her to be his locum without checking first that she really was who she said she was, that she was properly qualified and competent. Especially when she’d already told him she had doubts about staying in medicine. Big doubts.
But there was something about Mallory Ryman.
Oh, who was he trying to kid? Something, indeed. The woman was gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous. But he’d spent the last five years following his head instead of his heart. He wasn’t going to change that now. If Mallory agreed to be his locum, and if her paperwork checked out—he certainly wasn’t going to put his patients at risk—they’d be friends. Strictly friends. Nothing more. Because how could he possibly get involved with someone who climbed, when climbing had shattered his life?
MALLORY reached for the next hold, feeling her muscles stretch. This was what she liked most about climbing, testing her body to its limits and then getting to the top and knowing she’d achieved it all by herself. She tensed and pulled up, then let the crampon do its work and make her toehold safer, before reaching up for the next hold. She liked taking risks, yes, but she always calculated them first. She didn’t climb in blizzards or driving rain or when the temperature was below zero and the rocks were covered in black ice—well, not unless she was part of a group, doing something she secretly regarded as training for Everest, her long-held dream. And even then only when she had an ice axe and crampons.
Should she accept Will’s offer? And was he right? Did she deserve a second chance? Maybe. If it had happened to someone else, she wouldn’t have judged that person too harshly. But she’d prided herself on being the perfect doctor, on never making mistakes. On being good enough to meet the standards her father and brothers had already set.
‘Concentrate on the rocks,’ she told herself crossly. She had to think about the climbing. If she didn’t, she’d slip and fall. She knew the way it worked—she’d done it often enough. Just think about climbing, and let her subconscious go to work on solving her problems. By the time she’d reached the top of Helvellyn, she’d have the answer.
She gave all her attention to the rocks, focusing on the climb, judging each handhold and foothold with a practised eye. When she reached the top, she sat down and looked out over the valleys below her. Ullswater glimmered in the pale January sun
