you think that’s admirable, do you?’ Nancy challenged, thinking how glad she was that such unprofessionalism would no longer be tolerated in these hardworking times.
‘I think a lot of things,’ he said with a glower, ‘but I don’t think that you’d care to hear any of them!’
He stood up and poured himself another three fingers of whisky, a practice which had been occurring much more frequently of late. ‘And you can stop glaring at me like that!’ he declared as he gazed unsteadily into her brown eyes.
‘I wasn’t glaring!’
‘Oh, yes, you were! And I can tell you something else, Nancy Greenwood—that the amount of time you spend with your nose in a bloody textbook would drive a saint to drink!’
And Steve was certainly no saint...
* * *
Yet as Nancy looked across the desk at the approving face of her trainer she found herself thinking how wonderful it would be to have a partner who actually supported you, instead of undermining your determination to succeed.
But allowing her thoughts to drift in that direction would do no good whatsoever. There was absolutely no point in wishing for what you knew deep down you would never get...
Callum saw the apprehension that clouded her clear, brown eyes, but even if he hadn’t correctly read it there it would have been apparent from her demeanour.
Her whole delicately boned frame had tensed, as though she were uncomfortable in her own body. Those narrow shoulders—tiny shoulders, Callum found himself thinking with an almost protective pang—were all bunched up beneath that navy blue suit she was wearing.
He looked at her clothes properly for the first time.
Callum was not the kind of person who was particularly interested in the clothes that women wore. And whilst the man in him could recognise and acknowledge the sexual allure of a woman clad in a shimmering and clinging gown—with all its accompanying glitz—he nevertheless preferred women to look more natural. He liked the kind of woman who would climb out of bed and into an old pair of jeans to walk for miles, before tackling a hearty breakfast.
He sighed. Bit of a shortage of those women, really. And—here his eyes flickered to Nancy’s structured navy jacket—this woman wouldn’t fit into that category either. Not with a suit that must have cost most of a month’s salary. Callum couldn’t have named a dress designer to save his life, but he was enough of an aesthete to recognise and appreciate the superb cut of the finely woven material and the way it moulded itself so beautifully to the curving lines of her body.
Their eyes met, and something in his expression made Nancy’s cheeks grow faintly pink.
Callum shook his head impatiently. For God’s sake, man, he told himself, she was his trainee and she was married so he’d better stop ogling her right now!
He put on his professional smile, with a brisk professional tone to match. ‘We’ve a few minutes to spare so I’ll give you a quick guided tour of the health centre. Then we’d better get a couple of these visits out of the way before lunch,’ he said brusquely.
He stood up, and immediately dominated the surgery. ‘I tend to buy a sandwich and eat it in between visits. I hope that’s OK with you? That way we can talk in the car on the way.’
‘Right,’ gulped Nancy, wondering what had prompted his sudden change of disposition.
‘Then let’s go,’ he said in a clipped voice, and led the way out of the surgery.
Callum’s bad mood lasted only as long as it took them to reach their first visit. Nancy couldn’t help noticing that he was politeness personified when it came to dealing with patients.
The visits which were logged in his book were fairly straightforward. First up was a new baby to check over, who had just arrived home from hospital.
The family lived in a small house on one of Purbrook’s two housing estates, and it seemed completely swamped by baby equipment. There were numerous toys and giant packets of nappies, as well as an enormous pram, a pushchair and a car seat. And Nancy only just narrowly avoided tripping over a baby-walker!
Mrs Morris, the new mother, seemed rather stupefied by the whole experience, although Daniel, her baby, glugged away happily at her breast. ‘I can’t take it all in,’ she murmured. ‘There just seems to be so much which is new!’
‘Baby shock,’ said Callum with a grin as he straightened up from listening to Daniel’s chest. ‘It happens to all new mums, Mrs Morris, but, rest assured, you have a fine, bouncing baby. Oh, and I’m very glad to see you’re breast-feeding!’
Mrs Morris cast a rueful eye around the cramped sitting room. ‘I simply wouldn’t have had room for a steriliser and all the bottles, even if I’d wanted to!’ she told them. ‘We’re hoping to move to a cottage on the outskirts of Purbrook soon. It’s very basic but there’s room to build on—my husband is a builder, you know—and it’s got a huge garden!’
‘Plenty of room for young Daniel to run around, then,’ said Callum, with an approving nod.
‘That was the general idea,’ agreed Mrs Morris, staring lovingly down at her baby’s bald head.
Their next port of call was to a small, sheltered housing complex for the elderly. ‘I want to pop in on an old lady named Ethel Waters and take her blood pressure—it’s been all over the place lately,’ explained Callum, as the car drew up in the well-tended grounds.
‘Can’t she get out to the surgery, then?’ queried Nancy.
He pulled a face. ‘She can, but she’s fairly immobile due to arthritis. I tend to think that it’s not much of an outing for a lady in pain to have to get down to the doctor’s surgery!’
Nancy smiled with delight at his level of understanding and consideration. ‘That’s very sweet of you,’ she told him.
‘Why, thank you, Nancy,’ he responded, but the mock gravity in his voice couldn’t disguise the unaccountable pleasure he took in her praise.
They were drinking a cup of tea with the old lady, whose blood pressure was reassuringly low, when Callum’s bleeper went off.
‘May I use your telephone, please, Mrs Waters?’ he enquired putting his empty teacup down in the saucer.
‘Course you can, Doctor!’
The call was urgent, and they drove to it as quickly as the law would allow. ‘What’s up?’ asked Nancy, as he roared past a picturesque grey church.
‘An elderly lady is wandering around her garden naked?’ he replied calmly.
‘Who?’ cried Nancy in alarm.
‘Mrs Dolly Anderson,’ said Callum. ‘She’s an elderly patient with dementia, and she copes well enough with the assistance of the home help and Meals-on-Wheels.’
‘And has she ever done anything like this before?’ asked Nancy.
‘Never.’
