A Proposal to Remember

by Sarah Morgan

  He lounged back in his chair, his expression mocking. ‘Never knew you thought me handsome, Riggs.’

  She took a mouthful and shrugged carelessly. ‘Well, fortunately for both of us, I’m not as shallow as the women you date. You look all right on the outside but it’s what’s on the inside that interests me and you just don’t grab my attention, McKenna. Never have done. Never will do.’

  He leaned forward, his gaze suddenly intent on her face. ‘Is that a challenge?’

  She looked at him, appalled. ‘Of course it wasn’t a challenge. Just the thought of you and I together is completely ludicrous.’

  ‘That’s right.’ His fingers played with the glass. ‘It is.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Something in his blue gaze was making her feel horribly uncomfortable. It was probably just the topic of conversation. ‘All right, we’ll do an emergency surgery from next week.’

  ‘You’re saying I’m right.’

  ‘I’m saying we’ll try it. Glenda can do a poster on the computer. We’ll see how you get on.’

  ‘Testing me?’

  ‘Just looking out for my patients.’

  He drained his glass. ‘And when I prove to you that I’m perfectly competent, do I get an apology?’

  ‘No, you get to see patients without me looking over your shoulder.’

  ‘You certainly know how to deliver an incentive.’ He put the empty glass down on the table. ‘It’s going to be a joy to work with you, Riggs.’

  ‘Follow the rules, McKenna, and we just might survive.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE first thing Sam saw when he walked into the surgery the next morning was a sensational pair of legs. Slim, brown and long enough to make a man forget what was in his head.

  For a moment he just looked, and then he reminded himself of the price attached to admiring those particular legs.

  Anna was leaning over the reception desk to grab a pen and the movement revealed enough of her to heat his blood.

  ‘Good morning, Riggs. Nice skirt.’

  He told himself that he could admire her legs without having to admire her as a person.

  ‘You’re late,’ she snapped, straightening up so fast she almost lost her balance. It gave him some satisfaction to see that he’d flustered her.

  ‘Not late.’ He dragged his gaze away from those legs and glanced at the clock. ‘On time. Punctual. And there’s a queue at your door.’

  ‘There’s always a queue,’ Anna said wearily, nodding at Glenda. ‘OK, let’s unlock the doors and get started.’

  Sam took a good look at Glenda. Her hair wasn’t combed and she hadn’t bothered with lipstick. As long as he’d known her, Glenda had always worn lipstick. Something was definitely wrong. ‘Polly, my producer, wants to come and look round and discuss some ideas over our lunch-break. Are you free, Riggs?’

  Anna balanced a pile of papers under one arm and reached for her coffee with the other. Her black hair hung down her back, as glossy and shiny as silk. With her slanting brown eyes, she reminded him of a sleek cat. ‘I don’t have time for a lunch-break. And neither will you if you’re intending to pull your weight.’

  He ground his teeth and decided that even legs as good as those couldn’t make up for the sharp tongue and the bossy nature. ‘Not eating just shows poor time management.’

  ‘I didn’t say I didn’t eat. Just that I don’t take a lunch-break. That’s a luxury we can’t afford in the summer. If you want lunch-breaks, hang around until winter when the tourists leave.’

  ‘I’m meeting Polly and we’re starting filming this afternoon,’ he said calmly, wondering whether the urge to strangle her had always been this powerful or whether it had just got a great deal worse. ‘If you want to have some input, you might like to be there.’

  She turned to face him, her head slightly tilted. ‘This is why it is never going to work. Before you arrived I was struggling to cope with the workload and now, thanks to your perpetual need to have your ego stoked, I also have to cope with advising you on where to put your camera.’

  He clamped his jaw to prevent himself saying that he knew exactly where he wanted to put the camera at this precise moment.

  ‘OK, Riggs.’ He ran a hand along the back of his neck and exercised his temper control skills. ‘First of all, I know you’ve been struggling to cope but that’s because Dad has been limping along at half-pace for months. Now I’m here and I’m more than capable of picking up all his work and probably some of yours.’

  ‘I don’t need you to touch mine—’

  ‘I’m merely pointing out that I have the capacity to do so. The second point is that once we know what we’re doing, the filming is surprisingly unobtrusive. We’re filming normal, everyday surgeries. Despite what you think, nothing is staged for the cameras.’

  ‘It’ll probably take several takes to get your stitches straight.’

  He wondered how many stitches it would take to sew her mouth up. He took a deep breath. ‘You think I’m going to undo a wound and do it up again?’

  She shrugged. ‘How do I know to what lengths you’d go to make yourself look good?’

  ‘That’s why I’m inviting you to join this meeting.’ He kept his voice even. ‘Then you’ll know. You might even enjoy it.’

  She looked at him and then nodded. ‘All right. I’ll listen in. But only because I don’t want things going on in my surgery that I don’t know about. And I have to do the house calls first.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll arrange some sandwiches for after that.’

  ‘I carry my mobile,’ she said crisply, ‘so if you need to consult on anything, you can call.’

  ‘I’ll remember that.’

  * * *

  Damn, the man was annoying!

  The emergency surgery was a good idea. She’d suggested it herself, months ago, but David had been resistant to changing their current set-up. In fact, he was pretty reluctant to institute any changes at all. He and her father had run the practice a certain way and since she’d joined him as his partner, David had expected her to fit in.

  Anna frowned. To begin with that had been fine. She’d been finding her feet as a new GP and had been only too grateful to fall into a familiar structure. But as she gained confidence she’d seen things—things that needed to be changed. Things that would have improved the care for their patients.

  But she’d learned to sneak changes in gradually, and the emergency surgery wasn’t one that she’d tackled for a while. Unfortunately Sam was right about that one. She should have done it ages ago.

  Then he wouldn’t have had the satisfaction of thinking that it was his idea. She hated it when he was right about anything.

  But one thing he wasn’t right about was the filming, she told herself firmly. It would seriously disrupt the practice and make the patients feel uncomfortable.

  She pondered the subject all the way through morning surgery, all the way through her house calls and all the way back to the surgery.

  By the time she walked into the bright, airy reception area, she’d made up her mind that the whole thing was a mistake.

  And leaving Sam alone had been a mistake, too. She should never have allowed him to finish his surgery without her there. What if something had happened? Something that he wasn’t qualified to handle? He was too arrogant to admit that he needed help and he’d probably got himself into serious difficulties. David had one or two tricky patients.

  Preoccupied with these thoughts, it came as a serious surprise to her to find Sam laughing with Glenda as the receptionist tidied up from the morning.

  He didn’t look like a man who’d had a stressful morning.

  Anna dropped her bag and looked at him expectantly. ‘So how was your surgery?’

  ‘Good. There were one or two cases that would have made interesting television.’

  She shot him an impatient look. ‘Do you think of everything in terms of camera angles?’

  ‘Not everything, no.’ He winked at her suggestively
. ‘Just my work.’

  She chose to ignore that, just as she chose to ignore most of the things he said. ‘See anything interesting?’

  ‘Fiona Walker’s dog has been on the rampage again.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘One day she’ll learn that it isn’t the sweet little thing she thinks it is.’

  Anna winced. ‘That dog has kept her going since her Bill died last year.’

  ‘I know that,’ Sam said steadily, ‘but it needs a muzzle. Fortunately the bite wasn’t severe. They wanted to report it to the police but I promised that I’d talk to Mrs Walker.’

  ‘You did?’ Anna couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Because, as you said, that dog is her life.’

  ‘You don’t know anything about her life.’

  ‘I was brought up here, same as you and my mother writes to me,’ Sam reminded her dryly. ‘Endless gossip about harbour life. I know everything about everyone, not just Mrs Walker. I know that Doris in the gift shop had her gall-bladder out last winter, I know that her mother and grandmother have both had hip replacements and that the Stevensons are getting a divorce. I know that Hilda still gets eczema and Nicola Hunt is—’

  ‘All right, all right.’ Anna cut him off, hiding her surprise. ‘I just didn’t think those sort of details interested you.’

  ‘All part of harbour life.’

  ‘And you hate harbour life. That’s why you choose to live in London.’

  Sam gave an implacable smile. ‘But I’m here now. And those are the details that you need as a family doctor. Those are the details that we’re going to bring out in the programme. The way that we care for generations of the same family.’

  ‘You mean that the way your father and I care for generations of the same family.’

  Before he could answer the doors to the surgery crashed open and a man shouldered his way in, a child cradled in his arms, a frantic expression on his face. ‘Quickly! I need a doctor. Someone help me—she’s really struggling to breathe.’

  ‘What happened, John?’ Anna was beside him instantly, a brief examination of the child revealing that her lips were swollen and that she was wheezing badly.

  ‘She’s got a rash,’ Sam murmured from next to her, his large hands lifting the child’s T-shirt and exposing her abdomen. ‘This is anaphylactic shock. I wonder what’s caused it.’

  ‘Let’s get her into my consulting room.’

  ‘I’ll get the drugs.’

  Acting as smoothly and efficiently as if they’d worked together all their lives, they swung into action.

  ‘Do you know what happened, John? Any clues at all?’ Anna questioned the father as she took the child and laid her on the examination couch, trying to obtain a history that might help them work out what had happened.

  John was frantic, both hands locked in his hair as he watched helplessly. ‘I don’t know. God, I just don’t know. We were on the beach, having a picnic—’

  ‘What were you eating?’ Anna took the oxygen mask from Sam and covered the child’s mouth and nose while Sam adjusted the flow. ‘Any food she hasn’t eaten before? Nuts maybe? Strawberries?’

  ‘No nuts. Hell— I don’t know what she ate. All the usual stuff, I suppose.’ He ran a hand over the back of his neck, his brow beaded with sweat. Then he glanced towards the door. ‘Michelle will know. She’s following with the baby. I came with Lucy because I can run faster.’ He took several shallow breaths, fighting for control. Struggling to be strong in the face of a crisis. When he wasn’t doing his job as a carpenter, John was the helmsman of the lifeboat and well used to dealing with emergencies. Just not in his own family. ‘Crisps. She ate crisps. I remember that because Michelle was nagging her to eat a sandwich.’

  Sam attached a pulse oximeter to Lucy’s finger and checked the reading. ‘Her oxygen saturation is 90 per cent.’

  ‘Is that OK?’ John glanced between them, anxious for information. ‘Tell me that’s OK. Tell me she’s going to be OK.’

  ‘We’d like it to be a little higher, but the oxygen will help,’ Anna said calmly, holding the mask and stroking the little girl’s head to try and calm her. ‘Better give her some adrenaline and hydrocortisone, McKenna.’

  ‘Ahead of you, Riggs.’ Within seconds Sam had given the little girl an injection of adrenaline into her muscle. ‘I’m going to put a line in. I have a feeling we might need it.’

  Without question Anna handed him the necessary equipment and then examined the little girl’s arm. ‘This looks like a good vein.’ She slipped on the tourniquet, tightened it and then shifted her position to allow Sam access.

  In one swift movement he slipped the needle into the vein. No fumbling. No hesitation.

  Anna hid her surprise. For someone who was out of practice, he hadn’t seemed remotely hesitant. And he hadn’t missed. She had to admit she was impressed. And relieved.

  ‘Here…’ She reached for some strapping to secure it. ‘Don’t want to lose that.’

  ‘Right.’ With a steady hand Sam gave the hydrocortisone and Anna checked the pulse oximeter again.

  ‘Her sats are up to 94 per cent. Her breathing seems a little easier.’

  ‘That’s good. Let’s see if this helps.’ He gave the hydrocortisone and at that moment the door opened and Lucy’s mother hurried in, white-faced and out of breath.

  ‘Glenda’s taken the baby for me. Is Lucy OK? What’s wrong with her? She was fine one minute and then she just collapsed.’ The questions tumbled out of her and, satisfied that Sam had Lucy under control, Anna hurried over to the distraught Michelle.

  ‘She seems to have had an allergic reaction to something, but the drugs are helping. We need to know what caused it, Michelle. What were you doing when it happened?’

  Michelle Craddock looked at her helplessly, her face shiny from the heat, her hair damp from running. ‘Eating a picnic. Nothing exciting or dangerous. I just don’t understand what could possibly have happened.’

  ‘Could she have picked something up from the beach?’ Sam dropped the empty syringe onto the trolley and glanced at Anna with a question in his eyes. ‘Drugs?’

  Her gaze held his. They both knew that during the summer months teenagers congregated on the beach in the evenings. The local police did their best to keep things under control but the odd broken bottle and syringe had been cleaned up the following morning by vigilant locals. Had the little girl picked something up from the sand?

  Michelle was shaking her head. ‘She didn’t wander from the picnic rug. I would have noticed if she’d picked something up.’

  ‘Her vital signs are improving and her sats are good,’ Sam murmured, keeping a close eye on the child.

  Anna was still questioning the mother. ‘What was the very last thing she was doing before she collapsed, Michelle? Try and think. It could be very important.’

  ‘Eating the picnic.’ Michelle glanced at her husband for help. ‘She was eating a ham sandwich, I think. No, it was crisps. Because I was nagging her about not touching the healthy stuff.’

  John frowned. ‘Actually, that’s wrong, too.’ His brow cleared. ‘She was drinking, Miche. I remember now because her crisps fell onto the sand when she reached for her can.’

  Sam glanced up. ‘Can?’

  ‘Fizzy drink.’

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Had the can been open for a while?’

  Michelle bit her lip. ‘Not really. A few minutes, I suppose. She’d certainly had a few sips from it. Why?’

  Anna picked up the questioning, following Sam’s train of thought. ‘And did she drink straight from the can?’

  Michelle nodded, her expression anxious. ‘Why? Why would that make her ill?’

  ‘Because wasps crawl into cans of fizzy drink,’ Sam said grimly, turning back to the child and checking her mouth and throat. ‘Our guess is that she may have swallowed a wasp.’

  ‘Oh, my God.’ John’s face was pale. ‘You think she’s been stung in her throat?’

  ‘Possibly
.’

  John closed his eyes briefly and then looked at his wife and shook his head. ‘We had no idea.’

  ‘Lucky you brought her here as quickly as you did,’ Sam said. ‘Her breathing is improving and her heart rate is good. We’ll get her transferred to the hospital and they’ll keep her in overnight just to be sure.’

  ‘Keep her in?’ Michelle stroked Lucy’s hair to keep her calm. ‘But if she’s better…?’

  ‘There’s a chance she might have a relapse,’ Anna explained, glancing towards the window. ‘I can hear the ambulance now. We’ll transfer her to hospital and they can take a good look at her throat.’

  ‘A wasp in the can. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,’ Michelle groaned, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘And I think I’m such a careful mother.’

  ‘Accidents still happen, Michelle, and you’re a great mother,’ Anna said quietly, walking towards the door as the paramedics hurried in, guided by Glenda. ‘Hi, Todd. We need to get this little one to hospital quickly.’

  She explained what had happened, gave him a summary of the care they’d given and then looked at Sam. ‘One of us ought to go in the ambulance with her. You or me?’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Sam said immediately. ‘You might be needed here. I’ll grab a lift back from someone.’

  Now that the immediate danger to the child had passed, Anna swept her dark hair away from her face and gave a reluctant grin. ‘Good work, McKenna. Maybe you’re not as rusty as I thought.’

  ‘If that’s supposed to be a compliment then I’d say you need more practice.’ He returned the smile and straightened. ‘You didn’t do badly yourself, Riggs. Good teamwork.’

  Teamwork.

  She frowned, slightly unsettled to realise that that was exactly what had happened. They’d worked as a team. A very effective team. And it wasn’t at all what she would have expected. In the pressure of an emergency there had been no dissention between them—in fact, they’d hardly needed to speak. Each had worked smoothly alongside the other, instinctively anticipating each other’s needs.

  And then she noticed the camera. Her smile faded. ‘You’ve been filming? You filmed what just happened?’