‘She’s a doctor, you say?’ Hew Griffiths still looked suspicious.
‘Yes, she is. She’s fully qualified and she comes to us from London.’
‘Good morning, Mr Griffiths,’ said Lindsay.
‘London, you say?’ he said, ignoring Lindsay’s greeting. ‘My old dad used to say nothing good ever came out of London, and that was then, in his day. And from what I’ve seen lately in the papers, little seems to have changed. Den of vice it is down there.’
‘Hardly that, Hew.’ Aidan spoke firmly but Lindsay had the feeling he was amused by the old man’s observations. ‘Now,’ he went on, ‘what can we do for you?’
‘You want me to say now?’ Hew Griffiths stared at Lindsay.
‘Yes, please.’ Aidan nodded.
The old man frowned then, taking a deep breath, he brought forth a torrent of Welsh.
‘No, Hew.’ Aidan shook his head. ‘Not Welsh. English, please.’
With a scowl in Lindsay’s direction Hew began to mutter something. As far as Lindsay was concerned, he might as well still have been speaking in Welsh for all she understood.
‘So you say you’ve been passing water more frequently?’ said Aidan, coming to her rescue. ‘Is this during the day or is it mainly at night?’
Hew nodded. ‘Yes, night-time,’ he muttered.
‘And when you go, Hew, is it a constant stream?’
He shook his head without looking at Lindsay.
‘More of a stopping and starting affair? Is that it?’
A nod this time.
‘I think I need to take a look at you, Hew. If you’d like to go into the examination room and slip your trousers off.’
In panic the old man threw Lindsay a wild glance.
‘It’s all right, Hew, it’ll only be me,’ said Aidan. As Hew Griffiths took himself off to the examination room Aidan looked at Lindsay. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘they’re bound to be suspicious of me to start with. Just as long as they let me treat them when I’m taking my own surgery.’
‘I think by then they’ll have come to realise that you’re a doctor in your own right. Probably seeing you in here with me, they automatically jump to the conclusion that you’re some sort of student.’ Aidan stood up and, crossing to the examination room, went inside, shutting the door behind him.
With a sigh Lindsay looked round the room. Not for the first time she found herself wishing she was back in the accident and emergency department of the London hospital she’d recently left. No one there had queried whether she’d been a doctor or not. The fact that she’d been wearing a white coat and had had a stethoscope round her neck had usually been all that had been needed, and patients had just been grateful that it had been their turn at last to be seen. But, she reminded herself sternly, it had been her choice to go into general practice, just as it had been her choice to come here to North Wales to do her training, rather than settling for the more familiar surroundings and situations she was used to. The fact that nothing was working out the way she’d hoped was really nothing she could do much about.
Perhaps she would have to learn to adapt more. For a start she wouldn’t drive her expensive and utterly unsuitable sports car round the mountain roads. Maybe she should also look out something different to wear—less Kensington High Street and more mountain village, she told herself wryly as the door opened and Aidan came out of the examination room. Crossing to the sink, he began washing his hands.
Then quite suddenly, as she watched him, Lindsay felt a swift, unreasonable surge of irritation. Why did it have to be her who should change? This wasn’t what she’d envisaged at all, having as her trainer a man she didn’t even particularly like, so why should it be her who had to do the adapting?
And then she realised Aidan was talking to her. He still had his back to her but he was talking, and because she’d been feeling so annoyed she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. While she was still wondering whether she should ask him to repeat himself he looked over his shoulder at her.
‘Well?’ he asked. ‘What would you have done?’
‘Er…in Mr Griffiths’s situation?’ Lindsay said, taking a guess at what he’d asked her.
‘Well, yes, who else did you think I meant?’
‘I would have needed to examine him first,’ she said quickly.
‘Quite.’ Turning from the sink, he began drying his hands. ‘That’s why I’ve just explained my findings to you.’
‘Oh,’ she said, aware that her face had flushed with embarrassment.
‘Would you like me to repeat my findings?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘Yes, please,’ she mumbled.
‘Enlarged prostate,’ he said briefly.
He was obviously waiting now for her contribution but there was something about the directness of his stare that Lindsay found very disconcerting. In the end she had to make a conscious effort to pull herself together, while at the same time inwardly cursing herself for her lapse of concentration. ‘I would say blood tests then a referral to a consultant for further investigation,’ she said at last.
At that moment Hew Griffiths reappeared so Aidan merely nodded in agreement with her before sitting down at his desk again.
‘I’m going to get you an appointment, Hew, to see a specialist,’ he told the patient.
‘Eh?’ Hew looked up in alarm. ‘Why? What’s wrong with me?’
‘We don’t know that there is anything wrong with you at all. We want to get you checked out just to be on the safe side.’
‘Lot of good having two of you here, then, isn’t it?’ Hew looked from one to the other. ‘If neither of you can come up with any answers. Maybe I’d better see Dr Llewellyn.’
‘He would say exactly the same as I’m saying,’ said Aidan as he made a note to write a referral letter.
‘I suppose that means going all the way into Bangor?’ said Hew in obvious disgust.
‘That’s right, Hew. I’m sure your son will take you in,’ Aidan replied briskly. ‘Now, I also want you to have a blood test.’
Aidan carried on scribbling his notes so it was Lindsay who saw the frown cross the old man’s features. ‘There’s nothing to worry about in having a blood test,’ she said, reassuringly, she hoped.
‘So who’ll do it?’ he demanded. ‘Judith?’
Aidan carried on writing and Lindsay had to admit she didn’t know.
‘Fat lot of good that is,’ said Hew in disgust. ‘Call yourself a doctor and you don’t even know a simple thing like that. You’ll be telling me next you don’t know who Judith is.’ He gave a snort of disgust.
At that Aidan did look up and handed him a pink form for a blood test. ‘Take that to the desk on your way out, Hew. You’ll have to make an appointment because Judith only works here part time. And you’ll receive your hospital appointment through the post in due course.’
Hew left the consulting room, still muttering to himself.
‘So, are you going to tell me?’ asked Lindsay as the door closed behind him.
‘Tell you what?’ Aidan turned to her and frowned.
‘Who Judith is?’
‘You mean you really don’t know?’
‘Of course I don’t. How would I?’ She shrugged.
He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I thought perhaps Henry might have told you things like that. But he does have a lot on his mind at the moment so I guess perhaps there are many things you haven’t been told. Judith is our practice nurse. She works part time here and part time in a practice in Betws-y-coed. You’ll meet her later when she comes in. Right, we’d better get on or we’ll never get through this surgery.’ He pressed the buzzer.
‘Let’s hope this one takes a little more kindly to the fact that you have a trainee,’ said Lindsay.
‘You mustn’t mind them too much. It’s understandable they’ll be a bit wary of a newcomer at first.’
‘Especially someone a
ll the way from London!’ Lindsay pulled a face.
‘You just wait until the word gets round—you’ll be snowed under by those seeking second opinions.’
‘I shouldn’t count on it.’ She stopped as someone knocked at the door and Aidan bade them enter.
This time the patient was a young woman with a baby. She looked startled at first to see Lindsay, but after the introductions and explanations she seemed pleased to have a woman there, especially as her problem concerned discomfort in her breasts after feeding her baby. By the end of the consultation she was addressing all her remarks to Lindsay while Aidan sat back in his chair and relaxed. The end result was that he allowed Lindsay to prescribe the cream that would alleviate the soreness of the nipples and tablets to help with the pain and discomfort.
‘There you are, you see,’ he said as the woman left the room. ‘That’s one satisfied customer.’
But it was only one and as the morning surgery wore on Lindsay found there were more patients who had the same suspicious attitude towards her as Hew Griffiths’s than there were with that of the young mother’s. It was with a decided sense of relief that at last she heard Bronwen buzz through and inform Aidan that he had no further patients for that particular surgery.
‘Thank you, Bronwen.’ He stretched and leaned back in his chair. ‘Do I have many house calls?’
‘Only four at the moment, Dr Lennox,’ Bronwen replied in her precise tone.
He stood up and looked down at Lindsay.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ she asked.
‘I think you’d better. I was going to get Bronwen to show you a bit more of the workings of the place, but on second thoughts I think you’d be better off coming with me.’
Lindsay wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or not and which would have been the lesser evil—accompanying an obviously reluctant Aidan on his house calls or being forced to endure a couple of hours of the equally reluctant Bronwen’s company.
In silence she slipped on her jacket, which she’d discarded during the surgery, then picked up her case and followed Aidan from the room. None of this was turning out as she’d expected. For the umpteenth time since arriving she felt like throwing her bags into the boot of her car and hightailing it back down the motorway to London.
‘What do you have for me?’ asked Aidan as they reached Reception and he moved behind the desk into the records section. Lindsay wasn’t sure whether to follow him or not and in the end she let him go and discuss his house calls with Bronwen while she hovered in the waiting area, reading the posters on display to pass the time.
‘I like your suit.’
Lindsay had become engrossed in one of the posters advertising a local helpline and she hadn’t heard anyone come out of the records room. She looked round and found Gwynneth leaning over the counter and admiringly eyeing her up and down.
‘Oh, do you? Thank you, Gwynneth. I was actually thinking just now that it’s not really practical for country living.’
‘I think it’s lovely,’ said Gwynneth. ‘Did you buy it in London?’
‘Er…yes. Yes, I did.’ Lindsay nodded.
‘Was it from Harrods?’ asked Gwynneth in awe.
‘No, it wasn’t from Harrods.’
‘Selfridges?’ The dreamy look was back on Gwynneth’s face.
‘No. I bought it in a little boutique in Kensington.’
‘Kensington!’ Gwynneth’s pale blue eyes rounded.
‘Er…yes.’ Lindsay nodded uncertainly and was actually relieved when Aidan suddenly strode round the desk with a bundle of records in his hand.
‘Are you fit?’ He spoke with hardly as much as a glance in her direction and, not waiting for a reply, strode to the front door.
‘See you later, Gwynneth,’ said Lindsay hastily, as with a little shrug she followed him.
‘Yes,’ replied Gwynneth wistfully. ‘See you later…’
It had stopped raining and the cloud was lifting, leaving wraith-like strands around the tops of the mountains. There were several large puddles in the car park and Lindsay carefully circled them, protecting her neat black shoes from the water. Aidan led the way to his Land Rover climbed into the driver’s seat then leaned across to open the passenger door for her.
‘No dogs today?’ she said nervously as she climbed in and shut the door behind her.
‘They’re at home,’ he replied shortly. He started the engine and as they drew out of the car park it seemed he thought better of his somewhat curt answer and elaborated slightly. ‘I’ll call in and collect them—they usually come with me on my house calls then I let them have a run before afternoon surgery.’
Suddenly she was curious about his private life and where he lived. Really, she knew nothing—only that he was a doctor, drove a Land Rover and had two dogs. She didn’t even know whether he was married or not. Henry had said he was a bit of a loner but that fact alone didn’t mean he couldn’t be married. She threw him a swift sidelong glance. His profile was set as he drew out of the forecourt onto the road, his brows drawn together in a frown of concentration. Her gaze moved to his hands on the wheel. Lindsay always looked at people’s hands—they usually told so much about a person. Aidan’s were square-shaped, capable-looking hands, and with their light covering of golden-tipped dark hairs, for some reason, appeared very, very masculine. Lindsay found herself looking quickly away.
The interior of the Land Rover smelt strongly of dog and Lindsay, unused to the smell, wrinkled her nose and surreptitiously opened her window a couple of inches.
‘I’ve got four calls,’ Aidan said, breaking the silence at last. ‘First one is to an old couple who live just outside the village. The old boy has Parkinson’s and his wife cares for him. She’s a sweetie but her health isn’t good and I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be able to cope. I keep an eye on them and visit once a week.’
‘What options will there be for them when she can no longer cope?’ Lindsay half turned to him.
‘It’s difficult to say what will be best.’ He gave a light shrug. ‘We’ve talked over all the possibilities and I ended up promising them that when the time came I would do my utmost to get them somewhere they can stay together. He’s deteriorating, though, and I fear the day’s rapidly approaching when he’ll need hospital or, at least, nursing-home care.’
‘And his wife?’ asked Lindsay.
‘She isn’t really bad enough to need that level of care but I wouldn’t be happy for her to remain in the cottage on her own. Ideally she should go into a residential home, but it would break their hearts to be separated. It’s a tough one.’
‘How old are they?’
‘Douglas is eighty-six and Milly is eighty-four. They celebrated their diamond wedding last week.’
While they’d been talking Aidan had driven through the village to the far side where the houses were further apart. Lindsay was just wondering which of the houses might be his when he pulled to the side of the road. ‘Here we are,’ he said. ‘Want to come and see?’
Lindsay looked round. He’d actually stopped in a large gap between houses. Frowning, she climbed out of the Land Rover, slammed the door behind her and joined Aidan alongside the railings of a black iron fence.
‘Watch the steps,’ he said. ‘They’ll be wet and may be slippery.’
It was only then that she saw there was a gate set in the iron railings, and as Aidan opened the gate she leaned forward and saw the roof and chimneys of a building well below the level of the road. She followed him down the steps carefully because they were indeed slippery and her shoes had very little grip. Only when she reached the bottom did she look around her. The cottage, of grey stone and with a slate-tiled roof, was quite literally tucked into the hillside.
Aidan went on ahead of her and she heard the ecstatic welcome from his dogs as he opened the door of what appeared to be an outhouse. The dogs hurtled out and Lindsay steeled herself to greet them. Lindsay didn’t actually dislike dogs but, having been nipped by
a Jack Russell as a child, she was naturally wary. Aidan seemed to sense this as the dogs went overboard with their welcome, jumping around her as she stood uncertainly in the doorway.
‘Skipper! Jess!’ he rapped, and the dogs immediately backed off before turning and rushing away into the garden.
‘Sorry,’ said Aidan, standing back so that Lindsay could enter the cottage. ‘They get over-enthusiastic. I tend to forget not everyone is used to dogs.’
‘I don’t have a lot of dealings with dogs,’ Lindsay admitted. ‘It wouldn’t do to keep one where I live.’ She paused and looked around the kitchen. ‘This is an interesting place you have. How long have you lived here?’
‘Nearly three years,’ he replied. ‘And I’m still renovating it. I have a five-year plan. It was almost derelict when I first saw it so I’ve actually done more than you might think. Come and have a look at my most important find.’ He led the way out of the kitchen with its beamed ceiling through a small dining room with a solid oak table and chairs and into a cosy sitting room. The walls were white and rough plastered and once again old beams had been restored, but behind the door and taking up the entire wall was a deep inglenook fireplace.
‘That,’ said Aidan proudly, ‘had been bricked up. I discovered it quite by chance because one of the bricks was loose. Needless to say, when I saw what it was I ripped the entire wall out.’
‘I’m impressed,’ said Lindsay. ‘I thought you only got those fireplaces in stately homes.’
‘Apparently quite a few of these old cottages have them.’
‘And is this your garden?’ Lindsay had turned away from the fireplace and walked to the window.
‘Wilderness would probably be a better description at the moment.’ Aidan moved across the room and stood behind her. ‘As you can imagine, the garden will probably be the last thing in the five-year plan.’
‘But it’s lovely,’ said Lindsay slowly as she gazed out of the window. The garden, enclosed by a high stone wall, was indeed overgrown, but amongst the tangled mass of shrubs, plants and weeds were masses of wild flowers—large white daisies, buttercups, pink and white campion and tall foxgloves. Ivy tumbled over the wall and nasturtiums and scarlet geraniums grew from the cracks in the stonework. In one corner an old iron pump was half-submerged within a mass of creeping columbine and dog roses, while against the wall itself stood an ancient mangle, a further reminder of life in a bygone age. ‘Is there another entrance?’ Lindsay craned her neck.
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