it had always been. It was ironic that tastes in interior decorating had turned full circle so that it was back in fashion again.
‘Doctors don’t have time to eat out all the time, even if they could afford it,’ she said quietly, as she reached for the peeler and the first of a mountain of potatoes. ‘As students, we’re so short of money we can barely afford to eat and once we’ve qualified, we’re left with massive debts to pay off, so we still can’t afford it.’
‘So where was the point in doing all that studying?’ Rose Langley demanded impatiently. ‘Your father started working shifts as soon as he left school but at least the two of us got time to see each other. You seem to do nothing but work, and men don’t like it when a woman doesn’t pay them any attention…’ Lily saw her throw a sideways glance at her eldest’s well-worn jeans and generic sweatshirt. ‘Or when she doesn’t make the effort to do herself up a bit.’
That jab hit a sensitive spot and Lily winced. In spite of her sisters’ taunts that there was ‘no point in gilding the Lily’, it was still a fact that she was the plain one of the family, even if she had been the only one of the girls to inherit her father’s long, lean build.
‘Everything I wear is clean, bought and paid for,’ she pointed out defensively. ‘I have to dress smartly to meet the patients in the orthopaedic clinic but when I’m in the operating theatre I’m in cotton scrubs.’
‘I’ve seen them on the telly. Totally shapeless green pyjamas,’ her mother said, and tut-tutted with distaste. ‘How is any man going to be attracted to you in that? Now, if you had a boob job, or something, to give you a bit of shape…’ She shook her head wearily. ‘I know. I know. You couldn’t afford to even if you wanted to, but if you’re ever going to get married and have a family you’re going to have to buck your ideas up before all the good ones are gone. You’re over thirty already.’
Her tone of voice made it sound like eighty and Lily supposed that to a woman who’d already had most of her family by that age, she’d even gone beyond being classed as a late starter. It was definitely time to redirect the conversation, and subtlety wasn’t an option.
‘Mum, I think you got the last really good one,’ she said with blatant flattery, her tongue firmly in her cheek. ‘How can I get married to someone who doesn’t measure up to Dad?’
‘Well, there is that, I suppose,’ her mother agreed, with more than a touch of smugness. ‘Your dad’s never let me down in all the years we’ve been married. He brought his pay cheque home to me every week…until work started putting it straight into the bank for him. He’s not a smoker or much of a drinker, not like most of his mates, nor does he chase around after other women.’
‘He doesn’t need to,’ Lily pointed out, with a sly look at her mother to see how the sweet talk was going down. ‘He got all the woman he needs when he got you.’
‘Get on with you,’ Rose said dismissively, but a coy grin lifted the corners of her mouth at Lily’s implied compliment.
The deliberate innuendo had the desired effect of side-tracking her mother’s perennial complaint, but the strange thing was, deep down Lily actually meant what she’d said. Her parents were well matched and totally content with their separate roles within their marriage, and her father was the sort of honest, hard-working man that was a million miles from the self-obsessed hustlers and chancers around today. Where had all the solid, reliable hard-working men gone…the ones who would make a commitment and stick to it through thick and thin? She certainly hadn’t come across any…not that she was looking. She still had years of work before her debts were paid and she achieved the coveted position of consultant.
Now, if only someone would come up with an alternative topic of conversation over the dinner table—something other than Lily Langley’s many shortcomings—she might be able to return to her flat without indigestion.
She’d actually hoped that someone would have remembered that she was due to start her new job in the morning and that it was, hopefully, the last rung in her career ladder before she reached the very top.
Unfortunately, the inner workings of the hospital hierarchy couldn’t be less interesting to this cheerful gathering, especially with a traditional roast dinner in front of them and at least half a dozen members of the next generation needing assistance to refuel for the next noisy round of hide and seek in the garden.
‘Give me strength!’ Razak pleaded with the oblivious walls of his flat then let loose with a string of curses in his native language. He knew he was not very good at waiting around when something needed doing, and the interminable delay while committees talked something to death was driving him crazy.
‘When are they ever going to get off the fence and make a decision? It’s been weeks since I outlined my plan, and the new surgeon starts tomorrow.’
It was bad enough that the problems with the foundations of the new building had set completion back by several weeks. He’d really hoped that he would have had an answer by now so he could have begun recruiting staff. It was important that everything should be up and running with as few glitches as possible. With everything ironed out before the new surgeon arrived they could have jumped straight into the new system, and he’d been waiting for the decision—the final decision?—all afternoon, knowing that the committee was due to meet today. But, then, he didn’t know whether his proposal was even on the agenda.
He would have to look on the bright side and treat the aggravating delay as a chance to see the new member of his team at work. His plans called for a skilled surgeon who could combine work of the highest standard with a willingness to work hard and fast without direct supervision. He might need several sessions of observation before he would be confident about handing his patients over for closing. And all the while, at the back of his mind, was the fact that even if he did get the go-ahead, he didn’t have long to find out whether the system worked. It wouldn’t be long before he came to the end of his time here and he needed so much more experience before he’d be ready to take on the responsibility for setting up a whole new orthopaedic department.
‘So, I can make best use of the delay, but if the committee doesn’t make the right decision in the end, and soon…’
His railings were curtailed by the chirp of his mobile phone and he fished it out of his pocket. A glance at the number displayed on the screen had him smiling immediately.
‘Hey, Karim! How are you, baby brother?’
‘Not so much of the baby, thank you,’ the voice on the other end growled in mock anger. ‘You should show me more respect, even if you are some big important doctor. It won’t be long before you have to make obeisance…’ He cut himself off with a curse of his own. ‘I’m sorry about that. It was thoughtless in the circumstances when the honour is yours by right and will only be passed on when our father is…with us no more. It’s just…’
‘Forget it, Karim. That sort of jest is part of the way we relate to each other and has nothing to do with being impatient for someone to die so you can step into their shoes,’ Razak finished for him, sparing his brother’s blushes at such a faux pas. ‘Don’t worry about it. I know you weren’t being disrespectful but…how are they?’
‘Much the same as usual,’ Karim reported cautiously. ‘Physically, they’re far frailer than they’d ever admit, but mentally as sharp as ever. And your mother is forever begging your father to order you to return home so she can persuade you to change your mind about the succession. She still expects to put on a lavish wedding when you return. Dita will have taken all her exams by then.’
Razak’s
