A Doctor to Remember

‘So, what happened when you tried to use the shower last time?’ Matt asked as they went upstairs a few minutes later.

‘I switched on the isolator switch as usual outside the bathroom and everything was fine. but after I’d switched off the shower I noticed that the isolator switch was stuck in the on position. The light comes on, but the water isn’t coming through.’

‘I’ll start with the switch, then. Do you have a screwdriver? Otherwise I’ll go and get one from my place.’

‘The toolbox is downstairs. I’ll get it for you.’

‘Thanks. I’ll turn off the miniature circuit-breaker.’

He went off to disconnect the electricity and a few minutes later he unscrewed the switch and began to inspect it. ‘It looks as though this is the problem,’ he said, showing her. ‘The connections are blackened.’

‘Is that bad? Do I need to be worried about the wiring?’

He shook his head. ‘It often happens with these things. They burn out. I’ll pick up another switch from the supplier in town and get someone to come over and fix it for you. I know an electrician who works at the hospital—I’ll ask him to call in.’

‘Oh, that’s brilliant…’ She frowned. ‘If he’ll do it, that is…’

‘He will. He owes me a favour or two, so I’m sure he won’t mind turning out for this. In the meantime, if you want to get a few things together—you can come over to my place to use the shower, if you like?’

‘Really?’ Her eyes widened and she gave him a grateful smile. ‘I’d like that very much, thank you.’

She hurried away to collect a change of clothes and a towel, everything that she thought she would need, and then they went over to his part of the house.

She looked around. The first time she had been here she’d been so taken aback by his revelation about the inheritance, and everything had been a bit of a blur, so she hadn’t taken much in.

But now she saw that his living room was large and airy, with a wide window looking out on to a well-kept lawn and curved flower borders. He’d kept the furnishing in here simple, uncluttered, with two creamcoloured sofas and an oak coffee table that had pleasing granite tile inserts. There was a large, flat-screen TV on the wall. The floor was golden oak, partially covered by an oriental patterned rug. It was a beautiful, large annexe—what could have persuaded Aunt Annie to leave him all this?

‘I’m afraid I’m on call today with the first-response team,’ he said, cutting into her thoughts, ‘so if I have to leave while you’re in the shower, just help yourself to whatever you need—there’s tea and coffee in the kitchen and cookies in the jar. Otherwise I’ll be waiting for you in here.’

He paused, sending her a look that was part teasing, part hopeful. Heat glimmered in the depths of his grey eyes. ‘Unless, of course, you need a hand with anything in the bathroom? I’d be happy to help out. More than happy…’

She gave a soft, uncertain laugh, not quite sure how to respond to that. ‘Well, uh…that’s a great offer, but I think I’ll manage, thanks.’

He contrived to look disappointed and amused all at the same time. ‘Ah, well…another day, perhaps?’

‘In your dreams,’ she murmured.

She went upstairs to the bathroom, still thinking about his roguish suggestion. It was hard to admit, but she was actually more than tempted. He was strong, incredibly good looking, hugely charismatic and very capable…he’d shown that he was very willing to help out with anything around the place.

So why had she turned him down? She was a free spirit after all, with no ties. The truth was, she’d no idea how she’d been before, but right now she was deeply wary of rushing into anything, and she’d only known him for a very short time.

Or had she? He’d said they’d known one another for quite a while, years, in fact. What kind of relationship had that been? For his part, he was definitely interested in her and he certainly seemed keen to take things further.

But she still wasn’t sure she could trust him. He was charming, helpful, competent…weren’t those the very qualities that might have made her aunt want to bequeath him part of her home?

She sighed. It was frustrating to have so many unanswered questions.

Going into the bathroom, she tried to push those thoughts to one side as she looked around. This room was all pearly white, with gleaming, large rectangular tiles on the wall, relieved by deeply embossed border tiles in attractive pastel colours. There was a bath, along with the usual facilities, and in the corner there was a beautiful, curved, glass-fronted shower cubicle.

Under the shower spray, she tried to relax and let the warm water soothe away her troubled thoughts. Perhaps she should learn to trust, and take comfort in the knowledge that Matt had only ever been kind to her.

So far, he had been there for her, doing his best to help her settle in. She had been the only stumbling block to his initial efforts by being suspicious of his motives around her aunt. Perhaps she should do her best to be a little more open to him.

Afterwards, she towelled her hair dry and put on fresh clothes, jeans that clung to her in all the right places, and a short-sleeved T-shirt the same blue as her eyes. She didn’t want to go downstairs with wet hair, but there was no hairdryer around so she didn’t really have a choice. Still, even when damp her hair curled riotously, so perhaps she didn’t look too bad.

Anyway, if Matt had been called away to work, it wouldn’t matter how she looked, would it?

‘Hi.’ He smiled as she walked into the living room. ‘You look fresh and wholesome—like a beautiful water nymph.’

She returned his smile. ‘Thanks. And thanks for letting me use the shower. Perhaps I ought to go back to my place and find my hairdryer.’

‘Do you have to do that? I’m making some lunch for us. I heard the shower switch off, so I thought you might soon be ready to eat. We could take the food outside, if you want. The sun will dry your hair.’

‘Oh…okay. I wasn’t expecting that. It sounds good.’

They went outside on to a small, paved terrace, and he set out food on a wrought-iron table, inviting her to sit down while he went to fetch cold drinks. He’d made pizza slices, topped with mozzarella cheese, tomato and peppers, along with a crisp side salad.

He came back holding a tray laden with glass tumblers and a jug of mixed red fruit juice topped with slices of apple, lemon and orange.

‘I can bring you some wine, if you prefer,’ he said, sitting down opposite her. ‘I can’t have any myself in case I have to go out on a job.’

‘No, this will be fine,’ she told him. ‘It looks wonderful.’

‘It is. Wait till you taste it.’

The food was good, and the juice, which had a hint of sparkling soda water in it, was even better than it looked. ‘This has been a real treat for me,’ she said a little later, when they’d finished a simple dessert of ice cream and fresh raspberries. ‘Everything was delicious.’ She mused on that for a moment. ‘I don’t remember when someone last prepared a meal for me.’

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ He sent her a sideways glance. ‘Actually, Annie made meals for both of us sometimes—whenever you came over here to visit she would cook, or put out buffet-style food, or occasionally she would ask me to organise the barbecue so that we could eat outside and enjoy the summer evenings. Sometimes she would ask the neighbours to join us.’ He watched her carefully. ‘Don’t you have any memory of that?’

‘No…’ She tried to think about it, grasping at fleeting images with her mind, but in the end she had to admit defeat. Then a stray vision came out of nowhere, and she said quickly, ‘Except—there was one time…I think I’d been out somewhere—to work, or to see friends—then somehow I was back here and everything was wrong.’

He straightened up, suddenly taut and a bit on edge. Distracted, she sent him a bewildered glance. ‘I don’t know what happened, but the feelings are all mixed up inside me. I know I was desperately unhappy and I think Aunt Annie put her arms around me to comfort me.’ She frowned. ‘How can I not remember? It’s as though I’m distracted all the while, all over the place in my head. Why am I like this?’

It was a plea for help and he said softly, ‘You probably feel that way because it’s as though part of you is missing. Your mind is still the one bit of you that needs to heal. And perhaps deep down, for some reason, you’re rejecting what’s already there, hidden inside you. Give it time. Don’t try so hard, and I expect it’ll come back to you in a few weeks or months.’

‘Weeks or months…when am I ever going to get back to normal?’ There was a faint thread of despair in her voice. ‘I should be working, earning a living, but how do I do that when I don’t even know what it’s like to be a doctor?’

He didn’t answer. His phone rang at that moment, cutting through their conversation, and she noticed that the call came on a different mobile from his everyday phone. He immediately became alert.

‘It’s a job,’ he said, when he had finished speaking to Ambulance Control, ‘so I have to go. I’m sorry to leave you, Saffi, but I’m the nearest responder.’

‘Do you know what it is, what’s happened?’

He nodded. ‘A six-year-old boy has been knocked down by a car. The paramedics are asking for a doctor to attend.’ He stood up, grim-faced, and made to walk across the terrace, but then he stopped and looked back at her. He made as if to say something and then stopped.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘It’s nothing.’

He made to turn away again and she said quickly, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind, please.’

‘I wondered if you might want to come with me? It might be good for you to be out there again, to get a glimpse of the working world. Then again, this might not be the best call out for you, at this time.’ He frowned. ‘It could be bad.’

She hesitated, overwhelmed by a moment of panic, a feeling of dread that ripped through her, but he must have read her thoughts because he said in a calm voice, ‘You wouldn’t have to do anything. Just observe.’

She sucked in a deep breath. ‘All right. I’ll do it.’ It couldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t called on to make any decisions, could it? But this was a young child…that alone was enough to make her balk at the prospect. Should she change her mind?

Matt was already heading out to the garage, and she hurried after him. This was no time to be dithering.

They slid into the seats of the rapid-response vehicle, a car that came fully equipped for emergency medical situations, and within seconds Matt had set the sat nav and was driving at speed towards the scene of the accident. He switched on the flashing blue light and the siren and Saffi tried to keep a grip on herself. All she had to do was observe, he’d said. Nothing more. She repeated it to herself over and over, as if by doing that she would manage to stay calm.

‘This is the place.’

Saffi took in everything with a glance. A couple of policemen were here, questioning bystanders and organising traffic diversions. An ambulance stood by, its rear doors open, and a couple of paramedics hid her view of the injured child. A woman was there, looking distraught. Saffi guessed she was the boy’s mother.

Matt was out of the car within seconds, grabbing his kit, along with a monitor and paediatric bag.

With a jolt, Saffi realised that she recognised the equipment. That was a start, at least. But he was already striding purposefully towards his patient, and Saffi quickly followed him.

Her heart turned over when she saw the small boy lying in the road. He was only six…six years old. This should never be happening.

After a brief conversation with the paramedics, Matt crouched down beside the child. ‘How are you doing?’ he asked the boy.

The child didn’t answer. He was probably in shock. His eyes were open, though, and Matt started to make a quick examination.

‘My leg…don’t touch my leg!’ The boy suddenly found his voice, and Matt acknowledged that with a small intake of breath. It was a good sign that he was conscious and lucid.

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