she told Toni. ‘And she had an episode of pancreatitis last year. The symptoms were rather like what Alice seems to experience.’
Pip paused, waiting for the kind of reaction Dr Gillies had made to the suggestion. The unsubtle query of how soon after Shona’s illness Alice’s symptoms had appeared. As though Alice was disturbed enough to be suffering from Munchausen’s syndrome and had latched onto a known condition. As if you could fake the symptoms like tachycardia and pallor and vomiting that could come with real, severe pain!
‘And you’re concerned about a possibility of an hereditary condition?’
‘Yes.’ The tension in Pip evaporated. Toni Costa was going to take her concerns seriously. Her opinion of this man shot up by several notches.
‘What’s a hairy-de-tairy thing?’ Alice demanded. She gave Pip a suspicious glare. ‘You never said I might have that.’
Toni was smiling…again, and Pip decided that was just the way his face naturally creased all the time. Did smiling always make those almost black eyes seem to dance? No wonder he was so popular with his patients.
‘Hereditary just means it’s something you were born with,’ he was explaining to Alice. ‘You get a whole parcel of genes when you born and some of them come from your parents and grandparents and something hereditary means it came in the parcel.’
‘Is it bad?’
Toni shook his head, making sleek waves of rather long, black hair move. ‘It doesn’t mean anything by itself, Alice. It’s like catching one of your buses. If it’s hereditary it just means you already had your ticket. If it isn’t, you’re buying the ticket when you jump on the bus instead. It’s the bus we’re interested in, not the ticket.’
Was he always this good at explaining things to children? Further impressed, Pip watched the satisfied nod that made Alice’s ponytail bounce.
‘So what’s my bus, then?’ she asked. ‘Where’s it going to take me?’
‘That’s what we’re going to try and find out.’ Toni Costa folded his hands on his lap and leaned forward a little. ‘Tell me all about these sore tummies you’ve been getting.’
It was a relief to slide into a routine initial assessment of a new patient. Toni could now completely ignore the slightly odd atmosphere in his consulting room.
‘And how often do you get the sore tummy, Alice?’
The young girl screwed up her nose thoughtfully. ‘The last time was the same day as Charlene’s party because I couldn’t go.’
‘And how long ago was that?’
‘Um…well, it’s Jade’s party this weekend and she’s exactly a month older than Charlene.’
‘Older?’
‘I mean younger.’
Toni nodded. ‘So the last episode was a month ago. And the one before that?’
‘I had to miss school and they were going on a trip to the art gallery that day.’
Toni raised an eyebrow at Alice’s sister and could see the smile in her eyes. She had to know exactly what it was like, chasing the information he required, and how frustrating the process could be sometimes.
‘They’re happening at four-to-six-week intervals,’ she supplied readily. ‘And it’s been ongoing for nearly six months now.’
With a quick, half-smile by way of thanks, Toni turned his attention back to his patient. ‘It must be annoying to miss special things like your friends’ parties,’ he said sympathetically.
‘Yes,’ Alice agreed sadly. ‘It really is.’
‘So the pain is quite bad?’
‘Yes. It makes me sick.’
‘Sick as in being sick? Vomiting?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Is the pain always the same?’
‘I think so.’
‘How would you describe it?’
The girl’s eyes grew larger and rounder as she gave the question due consideration. Pretty eyes. A warm, hazel brown with unusual little gold flecks in them.
Her sister had eyes like that as well. Very different.
Intriguing.
Toni cleared his throat purposefully. ‘Is it sharp?’ he suggested helpfully into the growing silence. ‘Like someone sticking you with a big pin? Or is it dull, like something very heavy sitting on you?’
Alice sighed. ‘Kind of both.’
Toni gave up on getting an accurate description for the moment. ‘Is it there all the time or does it go away and then come back—like waves on a beach?’
‘Kind of both,’ Alice said again. She bit her lip apologetically and then tried again. ‘It doesn’t really go away but it gets worse and then not so worse.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s really hard to remember.’
‘I know, but it’s important you tell me everything you can remember about it. Does it stay in one place?’
‘Yes. In my tummy.’ Alice gave him a long-suffering and eloquent look. Did he really expect a tummy pain to go somewhere else—like her head, maybe?
Toni smiled. ‘What I meant was, does it stay in exactly the same place? Does it get bigger and go to more places in your tummy, or does it make your back feel sore?’
Alice’s face brightened. ‘Sometimes it helps if I put the hottie on my back instead of my front. Is that what you mean?’
‘Yes. Knowing that sort of detail is very helpful.’
Radiation of abdominal pain to the back could well point to something like pancreatitis and the thought automatically took Toni’s gaze back to the older woman sitting in front of him.
She had to be quite a lot older than her sister. Late twenties probably, which was why he had been initially hesitant in querying their relationship to each other. Far better to assume they were siblings than to insult a woman by suggesting she looked old enough to be someone’s mother.
The resemblance was certainly marked enough to make them believable siblings. Pip had those same astonishing eyes. Her hair was a lot darker—a real chestnut instead of red-gold—but the genetic inheritance in the soft waves was also apparent.
And should be of no interest whatsoever in this interview.
‘Any associated symptoms other than the vomiting?’ he found himself asking steadily. ‘Diarrhoea, headache, temperature?’
Pip shook her head.
‘And no family history of migraine?’
‘No.’
