over his face.
‘Man, I’m sorry about that.’ He shook his head and breathed out heavily. ‘They were a bit the worse for wear. We were at an all-night beach party.’ He glanced sideways at Alice, his expression sheepish. ‘You OK?’
She nodded. ‘I’m fine.’ She was busy looking at the wound. She couldn’t believe how neat the sutures were.
The boy left the room, escorted by Rita.
‘You did an amazing job, thank you so much.’ Alice closed the door behind them and turned to Gio. ‘I never would have thought that was possible. That cut looked such a mess. So many ragged edges. I wouldn’t have known where to start.’
But obviously he’d known exactly where to start. Despite appearances. If she hadn’t seen the results of his handiwork with her own eyes, she would still have struggled to believe that he was a doctor.
When David had described his friend, she’d imagined a smooth, slick Italian in a designer suit. Someone safe, conservative and conventional in appearance and attitude.
There was nothing safe or conservative about Gio.
He hovered on the wrong side of respectable. His faded T-shirt was stretched over shoulders that were both broad and muscular and a pair of equally faded jeans hugged his legs. His face was deeply tanned, his jaw dark with stubble and his eyes held a hard watchfulness that suggested no small degree of life experience.
She tried to imagine him dressed in a more conventional manner, and failed.
‘He’ll have a scar.’ Gio tipped the remains of his equipment into the nearest sharps bin. ‘But some of it will be hidden by his hair. I gather from Rita that you have a very long queue out there.’
Remembering the patients, exhaustion suddenly washed over her and she sucked in a breath, wondering for a moment how she was going to get through the rest of the day. ‘I need to talk to the police and then get back to work. I’m sorry I don’t have time to give you a proper tour. Hopefully I can do that tomorrow, before you officially start.’
‘Forget the tour.’ His eyes scanned her face. ‘You look done in. The girl who made your coffee told me that you were up in the night, dealing with an asthma attack. You must be ready for a rest yourself. Let’s split the rest of the patients.’
She gave a wan smile. ‘I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve been travelling all night.’ It occurred to her that he was the one who ought to look tired. Instead, his gaze was sharp, assessing.
‘You’re not asking, I’m offering. In fact, I’m insisting. If you drop dead from overwork before this afternoon, who will show me round?’
His smile had a relaxed, easy charm and she found herself responding. ‘Well, if you’re sure. I’ll ask Mary to send David’s patients through to you. If you need any help just buzz me. Lift the receiver and press 3.’
‘WHAT a day!’ Seven hours later, Gio rubbed a hand over his aching shoulder and eyed the waiting room warily. Morning surgery had extended into the afternoon well-woman clinic, which had extended into evening surgery. Even now the telephone rang incessantly, two little boys were playing noisily in the play corner and a harassed-looking woman was standing at the reception desk, wiggling a pram in an attempt to soothe a screaming baby. ‘I feel as though I have seen the entire population of Cornwall in one surgery. Is it always like this?’
‘No, sometimes it’s busy.’ Mary, the receptionist, replaced the phone once again and gave him a cheerful smile as she flicked through the box of repeat prescriptions for the waiting mother. ‘Don’t worry, you get used to it after a while. I could try locking the door but it would only postpone the inevitable. They’d all be back tomorrow. There we are, Mrs York.’ She handed over a prescription with a flourish and adjusted her glasses more comfortably on her nose. ‘How are those twins of yours doing, Harriet? Behaving themselves?’
The young woman glanced towards the boys, her face pale. ‘They’re fine.’ Her tone had an edge to it as she pushed the prescription into her handbag. ‘Thanks.’
The baby’s howls intensified and Mary stood up, clucking. She was a plump, motherly woman with curling hair a soft shade of blonde and a smiling face. Gio could see that she was dying to get her hands on the baby. ‘There, now. What a fuss. Libby York, what do you think you’re doing to our eardrums and your poor mother’s sanity?’ She walked round the reception desk, glanced at the baby’s mother for permission and then scooped the baby out of the pram and rested it on her shoulder, cooing and soothing. ‘Is she sleeping for you, dear?’ Despite the attention, the baby continued to bawl and howl and Harriet gritted her teeth.
‘Not much. She—’ The young woman broke off as the boys started to scrap over a toy. ‘Stop it, you two!’ Her tone was sharp. ‘Dan! Robert! Come here, now! Oh, for heaven’s sake…’ She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.
The baby continued to scream and Gio caught Mary’s eye and exchanged a look of mutual understanding. ‘Let me have a try.’ He took the baby from her, his touch firm and confident, his voice deep and soothing as he switched to Italian. The baby stopped yelling, hiccoughed a few times and then calmed and stared up at his face in fascination.
At least one woman still found him interesting in a dishevelled state, he thought with a flash of amusement as he recalled Alice’s reaction to his appearance.
Mary gave a sigh of relief and turned to Harriet. ‘There. That’s better. She wanted a man’s strength.’ She put a hand on the young mother’s arm. It was a comforting touch. ‘It’s hard when they’re this age. I remember when mine were small, there were days when I thought I’d strangle them all. It gets easier. Before you know it they’re grown.’
Harriet looked at her and blinked back tears. Then she covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. ‘Sorry—oh, I’m being so stupid!’ Her hand dropped and she sniffed. ‘It’s just that I don’t know what to do with them half the time. Or what to do with me. I’m so tired I can’t think straight,’ she muttered, glancing towards the baby who was now calm in Gio’s arms. ‘This one’s keeping the whole family awake. It makes us all cranky and those two are so naughty I could—’ She broke off and caught her lip between her teeth. ‘Anyway, as you say, it’s all part of them being small. There’s going to come a time when I’ll wish they were little again.’
With a forced smile and a nod of thanks, she leaned across and took the baby from Gio.
‘How old is the baby?’ There was something about the woman that was worrying him. He didn’t know her, of course, which didn’t help, but still…
‘She’ll be seven weeks tomorrow.’ Harriet jiggled the baby in her arms in an attempt to keep her calm.
‘It can be very hard. My sister had her third child two months ago,’ Gio said, keeping his tone casual, ‘and she’s certainly struggling. If the baby keeps crying, bring her to see me. Maybe there’s something we can do to help.’
‘Dr Moretti has taken over from Dr Watts,’ Mary explained, and Harriet nodded.
‘OK. Thanks. I’d better be getting back home. She needs feeding.’
‘I
