Return of Dr Maguire (Mills & Boon Medical)

by Judy Campbell

  She looked at Richie’s worried face with concern. ‘It’s not set in stone, is it, though?’

  ‘Hopefully not. But I couldn’t possibly compete with that sort of thing so close.’ He sighed heavily. ‘It’s not something I want to think about, especially now Ruth is expecting our first baby.’

  Christa was filled with sympathy for a guy who had tried so hard to turn his life round after his accident and the numerous operations he’d had to mend his hips. She tried to think of some positives. ‘But surely that sort of place would be much more expensive than coming here. The subs would be huge.’

  Richie shrugged. ‘I’ve no doubt they’d hold out a carrot for a special opening offer. Anyway...’ he straightened his shoulders and gave a wan smile ‘...I’m damned if I’ll give in—I’ll just have to try and attract more people somehow!’

  ‘Good for you, Richie. I’ll certainly try and get my friends to come, and some of my patients could definitely do with the exercise! It may never happen anyway.’

  Christa went into the changing room, feeling slightly depressed for Richie and more than ever determined to try and convince Lachlan that his plans could adversely affect a great many people in the village.

  She slung her old warm jacket over her shoulders and changed her shoes, deciding that she’d have a shower at home as there was a queue to use it in the cloakroom. She flicked a look at herself in the mirror and pulled a face—hair like a bird’s nest and a face like a tomato! What a marked contrast to the photos round the walls of various celebrities apparently having just finished a punishing routine and looking neat and glowing.

  Alice, one of the practice receptionists, had also been to the class. She saw Christa glancing at the photos and grinned. ‘There’s been a bit of airbrushing on those photos! How else do you think the girls in keep-fit DVDs manage to look so cool and glamorous after forty minutes’ punishment without some digital tweaking?’

  ‘I need more than digital tweaking.’ Christa laughed. ‘I just want to get home before anyone sees me in this disgusting state. See you on Monday.’

  She pushed through the door and barged heavily into the muscular arms of a tall guy walking past.

  ‘Whoa, there! In a hurry?’ The man held her at arm’s length, then raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Well, hello there! Dr Lennox, I presume. Getting your stress levels down?’

  Lachlan Maguire was looking down at her with amused eyes, and she got a quick impression of a strapping, well-honed, muscular figure in Lycra shorts.

  ‘Something like that,’ she gulped, making a grab at her coat to conceal her perspiring, out-of-condition body.

  The coat slipped from her shoulders onto the floor, and she stood before him feeling hot, dishevelled and purple-faced. She tried to disregard the fact that in gym attire Lachlan Maguire was the sexiest man that she’d ever seen.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she enquired, trying to control her ragged breathing to something slower than if she’d been running a marathon.

  ‘Trying to keep in good condition, like you!’ Lachlan said, his eyes twinkling as they swept over her beetroot face. ‘You’ve obviously upped your heart rate—keeping your body in good shape!’

  Christa wasn’t sure if there was a double meaning to his remark. Was he referring to her admirable training regime or was he being more personal?

  ‘I try to keep healthy,’ she rejoined.

  ‘I approve of that.’

  He stepped onto the treadmill and started off at a brisk jogging level on tanned muscular legs, grinning cheerfully at her as he settled into a steady rhythm, increasing to a faster pace with seemingly little effort.

  Christa clutched her coat firmly round her top. ‘I thought you might be coming to suss out the competition,’ she said lightly, mindful of their mutual pact to be friendly colleagues.

  He flicked a puzzled look at her then his face cleared. ‘Oh, you mean the leisure centre? I told you, it’s only an idea yet.’ He added rather offhandedly, ‘But I don’t suppose what I have in mind would have any effect on this place. I imagine we’d attract different clientele.’

  ‘In what way? You’d be offering fitness classes and machine work. Where’s the difference?’

  He shrugged, still pounding away easily on the machine and scarcely out of breath. ‘I imagine this gym would be cheaper and with less commitment. Here you can just pop in without joining for a minimum time...’

  ‘But you can see how it would compete directly with Richie’s little business.’

  ‘I don’t agree—I don’t think he’s got anything to worry about.’

  Christa warmed to her theme. ‘And what about the local people who benefit by Richie’s gym—all the people popping into the little café over the road for lunch after they’ve exercised? I bet you’ll have a plush coffee place under the same roof.’

  Lachlan decreased his speed and stopped the machine, before jumping off, barely panting and breathing with remarkable ease. He put out his hand and brushed some of Christa’s dishevelled hair from her forehead, his eyes travelling down to her cleavage where a little bead of perspiration was making its way between her breasts.

  ‘For God’s sake.’ He grinned. ‘You’re in headmistress mode again! If I did go ahead—and I repeat “if”,’ there’s plenty of room for both businesses and more jobs to spread around as well.’

  Then he got onto the rowing machine and started rowing with powerful strokes that looked effortless. He was the picture of athleticism, the merest sheen of perspiration on his forehead. The Australian way of life had obviously suited him, thought Christa, aware that she was still puffing and out of breath from her exercise class.

  She dragged her eyes away from his impressive physique and said in her most reasonable voice, ‘But it’ll change the whole character of the village. Don’t you agree?’

  ‘Not sure I do,’ he said lightly, upping the speed of his rowing.

  Christa gave a snort of exasperation and stood looking at him with her arms folded. He stopped rowing and got off the machine.

  ‘Got another point to make about the gym?’ he asked impishly.

  She shrugged. ‘No—I’ve said all I want to about that, for the moment!’ She turned to go out then stopped. ‘Oh, by the way, I forgot that I haven’t shown you your room at the surgery yet. If you come round tomorrow morning at about 11 o’clock I’ll show it to you and give you a rundown on the computer system.’

  Lachlan nodded. ‘Good idea. I’ll be there.’

  He watched her as she marched out of the door, and grinned to himself. Little Miss Bossy, he thought, but, wow, what a figure, and how bloody sexy she looked in that far-too-tight Lycra costume! It was rather a pity that he’d sort of promised not to be anything but a friendly colleague, because he was going to find Christa’s proximity extremely tempting...although, of course, just because his mother had said he should marry the girl made Christa the last person on earth he’d ever have an affair with. It was out of the question.

  * * *

  ‘So this is it. It was your mother’s room, and we haven’t really had a chance to clear it yet, but perhaps you’re the one who ought to sift through things anyway.’

  Christa watched Lachlan as he walked to the window, pulling aside the blinds and looking at the view. Then he turned back, surveying the room rather bleakly. That familiar fleeting expression of great sadness crossed his face and there was almost a little-boy-lost look about him. Suddenly Christa’s arms ached to go round him, to comfort him, let him know that he wasn’t alone in his grief.

  At last he said haltingly, ‘So this is where my mother worked, until about three weeks ago. It feels...rather weird.’

  Christa said gently, ‘It must do. No doubt you want to look at things quietly for a while. When you’ve finished, come through to the office.’

  Lachlan nodded and sat down. The room was neat and tidy, very different from the house—it was almost as if this had been Isobel’s real home, where she liked to be bes
t. On the wall facing the examination bed was a large painting of the view over the hills from Errin Bridge—the sun was shining on heather-covered hills and the sparkle of the loch could be seen in the distance. He smiled. He knew that view so well, and he could guess just why she’d put it in that spot—so that nervous patients could look at it and be calmed.

  He opened the drawers of the desk—they were empty except for a few papers and a brown envelope with some photos inside. He pulled them out and took a deep breath, staring at them as if transfixed. They showed a boy at various stages of his life—a toddler on a little tricycle, a young lad grinning into the camera with fishing rods in his hand, and a teenager with a sullen expression. They were all of him and written across the back of each were the words ‘My darling son’.

  Lachlan closed his eyes for a moment, overcome, then he put the photos back neatly in the drawer. The love he’d felt for his mother surged over him again and he felt torn by conflicting emotions—almost reluctant to accept his mother’s legacy of the house if he could not in his own mind make amends in his heart by trying to fulfil her wishes.

  ‘But you don’t own me, Mum,’ he muttered. ‘You can’t tell me who I must marry just because you liked Christa Lennox...’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS THE weekly practice meeting, made more important because it was Lachlan’s first official day at work. He came into the room chatting to Lorna, the community nurse, and Sarah Duthey, the part-time practice nurse, whom he had met the week before. Christa was standing by the coffee machine, reading through the agenda.

  ‘Are you coming or going?’ enquired Lachlan, noting she was still in her warm overcoat.

  She looked up at him and dragged in her breath, swallowing hard. Holy Moses, he looked drop-dead gorgeous! Until now she’d seen him in a variety of casual clothes, from shorts to ragged jeans, but today he was in a dark, well cut suit and crisp white shirt, which seemed to emphasise his tanned skin and rangy figure. He looked confident, relaxed and as if he could run the health service singlehanded. Brad Pitt, eat your heart out, she thought wryly.

  She tried to ignore the double thump of her heartbeat, and said smilingly, ‘I’ve just got back from taking Titan for a walk. He had a bust-up with a dog twice his size and it took ages to catch him, so I’ve only just arrived.’ She waved a mug at him. ‘What about a coffee?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s a great idea. I haven’t had any breakfast yet—the kettle went on the blink and I forgot to stock up on milk...’

  Christa smiled sympathetically and pushed some biscuits towards him. ‘Perhaps these will help.’

  ‘Thanks, they’ll certainly keep me going.’ He raised his coffee mug as if it were a wine glass and grinned at her. ‘Well, here’s to the first day of a happy working relationship!’

  ‘I’ll drink to that! By the way, before I forget, I’m having the director of information technology, Ahmed Kumar, round for supper on Thursday evening, and he wants to meet you. It’s just a general discussion about networking the computer systems within the local hospitals and GP practices—not wildly exciting, I’m afraid.’

  He grinned. ‘On the contrary, fascinating stuff! No, seriously, I’m keen to be in on that, but more importantly a cooked meal would be a lifesaver! I seem to be on a restricted diet at the moment of a lot of ready meals in the microwave. It would be great to have some proper good food. It’ll be the highlight of my week!’

  ‘Don’t be expecting a cordon bleu experience,’ Christa warned nervously, suddenly wondering if her invitation for a meal was such a good idea.

  Then Ben Conlan, the practice manager, came in and Christa introduced him to Lachlan. Ben had been on holiday for the past two weeks and hadn’t met Lachlan before. He was a harassed-looking man who had a demanding wife and two sullen teenage children. Sometimes Christa thought he came in early and stayed late to get away from his family!

  ‘How was the holiday, Ben?’ she asked.

  He groaned. ‘We spent two weeks prising the kids out of nightclubs late at night, or going round the resort trying to find them, wondering what they were getting up to. I tell you, I’m glad to be back at work!’

  They all laughed, and even Ben smiled. ‘Good to meet you,’ he said to Lachlan. ‘We were all so fond of Isobel and it’s great to know that you’re carrying on the family tradition. I’m afraid my holiday came at totally the wrong moment, leaving Christa to try and find a replacement, so I’m so pleased that you arrived in the nick of time.’

  Lachlan smiled around pleasantly at them all. ‘I’m glad to be here. My mother obviously had a place in everyone’s hearts at the practice, and I hope I’ll be able to fill her shoes adequately and that I can give good service in Errin Bridge. However...’ He paused for a second and the others looked at him questioningly. ‘I have to say I’m a little dismayed at the state of the place—no need to point it out really...’

  ‘You’re right,’ agreed Ben. ‘Isobel had finally agreed to at least do up this part of the building that housed the practice, but sadly she died before we could get around to it.’

  ‘Well, I intend to put things right. I’m planning to have the place reroofed ASAP, and when I’ve got the money together to do the rest.’

  ‘Word’s got out about your plans to sell some of the land for a leisure and holiday centre,’ admitted Ben, adding cautiously, ‘If the plans go through, I can imagine there’d be quite a lot of interest.’

  Lachlan grinned. ‘I’ll have to be careful of any secrets I have in future! Why, I hardly know what the plans are myself yet!’

  Christa bit her lip—better not to stir up a hornet’s nest at Lachlan’s first meeting.

  Then, as usual at the meetings, there were discussions about the budget, and individual patients and those who were housebound and had special needs.

  Lorna, the district nurse, a pleasant-faced, motherly woman, explained to Lachlan how she and another community nurse in the area took it in turns to see their more outlying patients and that there was a rapid response team to step in for emergency care. Once a week a minor surgery clinic at the local cottage hospital offered treatment for removal of warts and moles and the different GP surgeries in the area took it in turns to man it.

  ‘It’s supposed to be for minor surgery,’ said Christa, ‘although some of the patients use us as a drop-in centre for a good chat! But it does have an X-ray unit and other back-up.’

  ‘I’m all for that,’ said Lachlan enthusiastically. ‘Having worked in the Flying Doctor service I’ve got used to spreading myself over the whole area and not being confined to one surgery—keeps you in touch with the hospital as well. And I can tell you I’ll be pleased not to work in forty-degree temperatures!’

  Christa had a sudden image of Lachlan in shorts and a bush hat, leaping on and off aeroplanes and striding out with boundless energy over the Outback to get to his remote patients. It was rather an exciting thought...

  Lorna’s voice cut into Christa’s reverie. ‘Then I’ll put Lachlan down for next week’s stint, shall I?’ she asked. ‘I should think Christa could do with a break!’

  ‘I look forward to it—I want to get into the swing of things as quickly as possible.’

  Ben put his hand up. ‘Just before we break up the meeting, don’t forget the village dance next month to raise money for the new scanner at St Luke’s. I said we’d take a party from the practice, so put it in your diaries. And I expect everyone to come!’

  He looked sternly at them all, and Lorna giggled. ‘Is it a three-line whip, then?’

  Christa’s heart skipped a beat. Every year the village held a dance for a good cause. Two years ago she’d been with Colin, and that had been the night that he’d told her their affair was over. It didn’t hold good memories for her, and even if she wanted to go there didn’t seem anyone to go with. Unless... She flicked a quick look at Lachlan, lounging back in his chair and making notes, and looking incredibly dishy. Then she dismissed the notion as preposterous!

/>   Her thoughts were interrupted by Ginny Calder putting her head round the door.

  ‘Could one of the doctors come immediately? We’ve a young girl who’s just come in, and I think she needs to be seen urgently. Her name’s not on our list—she wouldn’t give me any details anyway.’

  Lorna grinned. ‘Well, Lachlan, you wanted to get into the swing of things! Looks like your wish is going to be fulfilled. Do you want to take this one?’

  Lachlan stood up. ‘No time like the present,’ he remarked. ‘Would you bring her into my room, Ginny?’

  * * *

  She was only a kid, Lachlan thought, and very heavily pregnant. She slumped into the chair and bent over tiredly, allowing for the bulge of the baby. Lachlan ran a quick assessing eye over her—matted hair, dishevelled clothing and a greyish complexion. She looked uncared for, young and vulnerable.

  He bent down beside her, noting that close to she looked even younger than he’d thought.

  ‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ he asked gently.

  ‘I feel dizzy,’ she mumbled. ‘Not myself. Weak, sort of...’

  He looked at her thin face and stick-like legs. ‘Have you had anything to eat today?’

  ‘A bit of toast...’

  ‘Well, let me just take a few details.’

  A guarded look crossed the girl’s face. ‘What d’you want to know?’ she muttered sullenly. ‘I just want a bit of medicine—a pick-me-up.’

  Lachlan guessed that it had only been because she felt so ill that she’d come to the surgery at all, and that she wanted to remain as anonymous as possible. He’d make a safe bet that she’d never been to an antenatal clinic or had any tests done.

  ‘Look, it’s only for our records. No one else will know,’ he assured her gently. ‘Your age and where you live. To start with, what’s your name?’

  ‘Lindsay Cooper,’ was the muttered reply.

  ‘And your age?’

  She looked at him defiantly. ‘Fifteen... And don’t tell me to get rid of the baby,’ she said fiercely. ‘If I went home they’d make me have an abortion, and I won’t do that.’ She stared at Lachlan as if daring him to censure her.