The Doctor's Christmas Gift

by Jennifer Taylor

  Matthew laughed as he took a second plate off the shelf and deftly slid half the omelette onto it. ‘Stop being so polite! Here you go.’

  Before Catherine could protest he had put the plate in front of her and gone to fetch another set of cutlery. He sat down, offering her the bowl of salad so that she had no option but to take some.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly, cutting a sliver off the omelette and popping it into her mouth. It tasted wonderful, she realised. Light and fluffy and a world better than her own miserable efforts.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Matthew tucked into his meal with unselfconscious relish. He forked a mouthful of salad into his mouth and quickly chewed it. ‘Anyway, I’ve read your references and everything, and there’s no problem there. You’re more than qualified for this post from what I’ve seen so far.’

  ‘But?’ Catherine paused in the act of popping another sliver of omelette into her mouth when she caught the reservation in his voice.

  ‘Not really a but.’ He smiled reassuringly. ‘I just find it odd that someone with your talent hasn’t found a permanent position. You’ve worked in…what? Five different practices since you qualified?’

  ‘Six, actually, if you count where I did my GP rotation.’

  She pushed the plate away, wanting to concentrate on the reason why she was there rather than allowing herself to be sidetracked. ‘I suppose it does seem strange from your point of view, but I assure you that the reason I haven’t taken a permanent post isn’t because of a lack of offers. On the contrary, every practice I have worked for so far has offered me a job, including my present employer.’

  ‘But that isn’t what you want? Why not?’

  He tipped back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. Catherine realised with a little start of surprise that beneath the easygoing manner lay a very astute mind. Matthew Fielding wasn’t a man who would allow anyone to pull the wool over his eyes, but as she had no intention of doing that, it wasn’t a problem.

  ‘Because I don’t want to work for someone else. My intention has always been to set up my own practice.’ She shrugged but her brown eyes were steady when they met his. ‘That’s why I only ever accept jobs which will further my experience and why I never stay in them longer than a year. Each post I’ve had has been simply a stepping-stone towards my ultimate goal.’

  ‘And working here at Brookdale Surgery will be another of those stepping-stones? Is that what you are saying?’

  He sounded amused by the idea and Catherine smiled although she didn’t share his amusement. Didn’t he realise how serious she was about this and how much time and effort she had put into bringing her plans to fruition?

  ‘Yes. That’s right. The experience I gain here will be invaluable when I open my own practice,’ she explained calmly.

  ‘And what if I offered you a permanent post once your contract is up? Is there anything that would make you change your mind—the offer of a partnership, for instance?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I know exactly what I want, Dr Fielding, and there is no way that I would give up everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve.’

  ‘Then you are a very unusual woman, Catherine. Even more unusual if you can stick to your plans.’

  His smile was so wry that it made Catherine wonder what was behind it before she cut short that thought. She wasn’t interested in Matthew as a man but as someone she would be working with. What may or may not have coloured his life in the past didn’t concern her, just as her past didn’t concern him. They would keep things on a strictly business footing…

  ‘Daddy, you pwomised you’d read me a storwy tonight.’

  Catherine looked round when she heard a childish voice and saw a little girl standing in the doorway. She gave Catherine a shy smile as she came into the room and went to stand beside Matthew’s chair. She looked very like Matthew with her tumble of sandy blonde curls and deep blue eyes. She was obviously ready for bed, dressed in cosy towelling pyjamas with a ragged old teddy bear clutched in one hand and a well-thumbed book in the other. She gave Catherine a considering look as Matthew put his arm around her.

  ‘I’m Hannah. Who are you?’

  ‘Catherine Lewis.’ Catherine smiled although she felt a bit out of her depth. She wasn’t used to children except in a professional capacity and wasn’t sure what else she should say. However, Hannah had none of her inhibitions, it appeared.

  Hannah held out the book she was holding. ‘This is my favourite book. Daddy said that he would read it to me but you can do it if he’s too busy.’

  ‘Oh…I…um…’ Catherine struggled to find an appropriate reply and was saved from having to think one up by Matthew’s laughter.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t, you little horror!’ He wrapped his arms around the child and hugged her. ‘I know what you’re up to. Trying to trick poor Catherine into spending the next hour reading to you. You know what the punishment is for that sort of skulduggery!’

  ‘No…Ooh!’ Hannah squealed with gleeful laughter when Matthew buzzed her cheek with his chin. ‘You’re all pwickly, Daddy!’

  ‘That’s because I need a shave.’ He swept the child into his arms and stood up. Hannah wound her arms around his neck and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek.

  ‘I don’t really mind if you’re all pwickly. I love you anyway.’

  It was said with typical childish simplicity yet Catherine felt her eyes fill with sudden tears. She stood up abruptly, using the few seconds it took to push back her chair to gather her composure. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so touched to hear Hannah say that. Maybe it was because there was no one in the world who would say the same to her.

  The thought was oddly disquieting but, then, the whole evening had been unsettling. All of a sudden, she found herself wondering if this really was the right job for her. Oh, the surgery was located in the perfect area and the experience she would gain here would be invaluable, but what would be the cost to her personally of working here?

  It was another unanswerable question, another uncertainty, and she didn’t deal in uncertainties. Her life was structured, planned, assured. That was the way she liked it and how she intended it to continue. She was just debating how to tell Matthew that she wouldn’t be taking the job when a woman appeared.

  ‘There you are, Hannah! I wondered where you’d got to.’ She turned to Matthew with a rueful smile. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I was trying to keep her out of your way because I knew you were busy but she managed to sneak out while I was helping Becky with her homework!’

  Matthew laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it, Mum. At least I managed to head her off when she tried to con poor Catherine into reading her a bedtime story.’

  The woman turned to Catherine with a chuckle. ‘A lucky escape, my dear. You’d have ended up staying the night if you’d fallen for that ploy. With Hannah one story tends to lead to another ad infinitum!’

  Mrs Fielding rolled her eyes. She was very like Matthew, with greying sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She had the same wonderfully warm smile and once again Catherine found herself responding to it.

  ‘Obviously a lucky escape,’ she replied lightly.

  ‘Oh, don’t get overly confident.’ Matthew’s expression was wry as he set Hannah on her feet. ‘This little madam has her ways and means of getting what she wants. So be warned, Catherine. If you’re ever working late of an evening and an angelic little face peeps round the door, watch out. She’s after your story-telling prowess!’

  He seemed to have taken it for granted that she would be accepting the job. Catherine’s heart sank when she realised how difficult it was going to be to explain that she was no longer interested in it. She certainly didn’t want to go into the whys and wherefores when she wasn’t sure that she could give him an acceptable explanation for turning it down.

  She decided to tell him simply that she had changed her mind and leave it at that. After all, she didn’t owe Matthew Fielding an explanation because it was up to her what s
he did.

  After Mrs Fielding had led a reluctant Hannah away, Catherine saw her chance. ‘Dr Fielding, I—’

  ‘Haven’t I told you to make it Matt?’ He gave a small shake of his head. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony around here, Catherine, as you’ll soon discover—’

  He broke off when the telephone rang. Catherine could see that his attention had been distracted but she simply couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. She steeled herself as she said his name for the first time yet it seemed to flow off her tongue with surprising ease.

  ‘Matt, I’m afraid I—’

  ‘Matthew! It’s for you, darling.’

  Mrs Fielding’s voice carried clearly along the corridor and Matt sighed as he headed for the door. ‘No rest for the wicked. Sorry, Catherine. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  He disappeared before she could say anything and she heard him hurrying along the passage. She looked round uncertainly, sighing when she saw the half-eaten meal on the table. Poor Matthew seemed doomed to go hungry.

  She cut off that thought because it really wasn’t relevant. Whether or not Matthew Fielding ate wasn’t her concern. She went to the door but the corridor was empty. She could hear Matthew’s voice coming from the surgery and decided to head that way. It would be easier to tell him that she wasn’t going to take the job in the surgery rather than in his kitchen because it would help to put things back on a professional footing. All this chatting over omelettes and coffee didn’t do anyone any good!

  ‘Glenda? Hi, it’s Matt. Sorry to bother you but I’ve just had David Marshall’s carer on the phone. How was he when you saw him last week?’

  Catherine paused when she realised that Matthew must have finished his incoming call and was now making one of his own. She didn’t like to interrupt him when it had something to do with a patient. She waited for him to finish, mentally rehearsing what she would say. He was bound to want to know why she didn’t want the job but she would just stick to her guns and refuse to discuss her reasons…

  ‘Catherine Lewis…that’s right, the one I told you about who had all those wonderful references.’

  Catherine hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but she couldn’t help listening when she heard her name mentioned. She smiled when she heard the remark about her references. She was a good doctor and there was no disputing that.

  ‘How would I sum her up? Well, professionally there’s no doubt that she is absolutely first rate and will be able to handle this job without any trouble at all. As for personally…’ He paused and his tone was reflective when he continued. ‘I suppose the word that springs to mind is vulnerable. Catherine Lewis strikes me as a very vulnerable woman indeed.’

  Catherine didn’t hear what else he said. She had stopped listening because her mind had seized on that word and wouldn’t move forward or back. Vulnerable. Was that how Matthew Fielding saw her? Was it true? An hour ago she would have laughed off the suggestion but she couldn’t laugh it off now.

  ‘Oh, hi. I’m afraid I have to go out on a call. One of our long-term sick patients has taken a turn for the worse. We use an on-call service after hours normally but this case is a bit different. Motor neurone disease is one of those illnesses you pray someone will find a cure for.’

  Matthew was shrugging on his jacket as he came out of the office. He called along the corridor to tell his mother that he was going out then headed towards the front door, obviously expecting Catherine to follow him.

  She took a deep breath but her legs felt more than a little shaky as she trailed after him, her mind even more so. It was hard to behave naturally as she followed him out to the car park.

  Fortunately, Matthew didn’t appear to notice her abstraction as he stopped beside a battered-looking saloon and unlocked the door. ‘Right, I’ll expect you on the first of November, then. You said that you’d be free to start then, I believe. I’ll pop all the paperwork in the post for you to sign.

  ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get much chance to talk. If you have any questions then just give me a call—after surgery is usually best. Anyway, thanks for coming tonight, Catherine. I’m looking forward to us working together.’

  He got into the car and started the engine. Catherine watched in silence as he drove away. She knew she should have told him that she wouldn’t be taking the job but she’d felt incapable of doing that or anything else.

  She got into her car then sat staring through the windscreen instead of making any attempt to start the engine. Vulnerable. It was such an insignificant word to have scared her the way it had. It was as though everything she had worked so hard to achieve meant nothing all of a sudden. Matthew Fielding saw her not as the capable, competent woman she had striven so hard to be but as vulnerable. She didn’t want to be like that. She wouldn’t accept that she was!

  Catherine started the engine and drove out of the surgery. She would prove to him, but, more importantly, she would prove to herself, that he was wrong.

  CHAPTER TWO

  VULNERABLE.

  On the surface, it wasn’t a word that should have applied to the woman seated in front of Catherine’s desk. However, it had been on her mind so much in the past weeks that she wasn’t surprised when it occurred to her now.

  It was the Wednesday of her first week at Brookdale Surgery and she was halfway through morning surgery. Maybe it had been silly to have let Matthew Fielding’s comment spur her into taking the job but so far it seemed to be working out extremely well. She had slotted into the new post with surprisingly little trouble. Of course, the fact that the staff at the surgery had been so welcoming had helped enormously. Everyone, from Ann Talbot, their practice nurse, to the two receptionists, Margaret Price and Sharon Goody, had gone out of their way to help her settle in.

  As for Matthew, well, he had been nothing less than professional in his dealings with her these past few days. He had been friendly but circumspect, helpful but not overly familiar in their exchanges to date. There certainly hadn’t been any more offers to share coffee and omelettes, she’d been pleased to note! Catherine was determined their relationship would continue like that. She’d come to Brookdale Surgery to do a job and nothing else.

  ‘So, apart from these dizzy spells, have you experienced any other symptoms, Mrs Hoskins?’

  Catherine briskly returned her attention to her patient. Lauren Hoskins was in her thirties, an attractive, well-dressed woman who worked in advertising. The address on Lauren’s records was in a road which had become highly sought-after in the past few years. A lot of wealthy couples had chosen to purchase the large Edwardian properties and refurbish them. However, despite such material advantages, Lauren exuded a strange aura of vulnerability. Catherine very much wanted to get to the root of her problems but so far had met with little success.

  ‘Not really.’ Lauren smiled wanly. ‘Should I have had other symptoms, Dr Lewis?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Catherine replied evenly. ‘As I’m not sure yet what is wrong with you, it certainly isn’t possible to say how you should or shouldn’t feel.’

  She turned to the computer and checked through the woman’s medical history again. Lauren Hoskins had visited the surgery no less than five times in the past three months, each time complaining of dizziness. She had seen Glenda Williams each time and Catherine couldn’t fault the other doctor’s thoroughness as she ran through the list of tests that Lauren had undergone.

  ‘Looking through your records, it appears that you’ve been tested for diabetes and high blood pressure. You’ve been for an MRI scan to rule out any problems within the brain, like subdural bleeding, for instance.’ Catherine ran her finger down the list, checking off each test and its conclusion. ‘Dr Williams has eliminated labyrinthitis, which is often a cause of dizziness, because there was no sign of inflammation in your inner ears. She has also discounted Ménière’s disease because you’ve not experienced any deafness or tinnitus—that ringing in the ears which is symptomatic of the disease. You’ve also had three pregnancy tests and all
have proved negative.’

  Catherine glanced at the woman as she came to the end of the list and noticed how Lauren had quickly averted her eyes. Had it been the mention of the pregnancy tests which had caused that reaction? she found herself wondering.

  She picked up a pen and pretended to jot down some notes while she gave herself time to think. Maybe that was the cause of Lauren’s frequent visits to the surgery, the fact that she and her husband had been trying—unsuccessfully—to have a baby? The stress of not conceiving could certainly cause physical symptoms such as dizziness. However, if that were the case, then why was Lauren so reluctant to talk about the problem and seek help? Catherine decided to tread carefully rather than ask her outright.

  ‘I think another pregnancy test would be in order today just to rule out that possibility again.’ She took a sample jar out of the drawer and passed it across the desk but Lauren shook her head.

  ‘I’m not pregnant, Dr Lewis. I…I know that for a fact.’

  ‘I see.’ Catherine sat back in her chair and studied her quietly. ‘Are you and your husband trying for a baby by any chance?’

  ‘No!’ Lauren laughed bitterly. ‘A baby’s the last thing we need at the moment.’ She made an obvious effort to collect herself. ‘Anyway, that really has nothing to do with why I came today. I just thought—hoped—that you might be able to shed some light on these dizzy spells I keep having all the time.’

  ‘I wish I could. However, it does appear that you’ve had all the tests available, which seems to suggest that the problem isn’t anything physical.’ Catherine chose her words with care. ‘Stress can often be a major contributing factor in a situation like this, Mrs Hoskins. Is there anything worrying you at the moment? Maybe something stressful happening at work or a situation at home which needs resolving?’