‘Oh, you are awake.’ Casey’s voice was unmistakable.
‘Well, I am now,’ she snapped irritably.
‘You said you’d like to join me if I got a call.’
‘A call?’ For a moment she thought he meant a house call but she was confused because she’d understood that Toby was on call that night.
‘Yes, the police have just phoned. My services are required down at the station. You said you were interested but if you don’t want to come…’
Suddenly she was wide awake. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Yes, of course. Just let me put some clothes on.’
‘Five minutes,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs. Wear something warm—we’ll take the bike.’
Adele quite literally threw on her clothes—a warm sweater and cord trousers, socks, ankle boots and a thick jacket. What Casey had said was true. She had wanted to get involved in his police work, she just hadn’t thought it would be quite so soon and when she was so exhausted after her first day in the practice. She was about to leave the flat when, as an afterthought, she grabbed a pair of woollen gloves.
The house was silent and Adele crept along the corridor past Penny’s door and down the stairs to the first-floor landing. Peering over the banisters, she could just make out the shape of a figure downstairs in the hallway. She sped down the stairs terrified now that he wouldn’t wait, knowing how Casey hated to be kept waiting.
She was slightly breathless when she joined him but he made no comment, simply led the way down the passages to the rear of the house where he unbolted the door and they stepped out into the courtyard. There was a moon that peeped intermittently between the ragged dark clouds that raced across its face. The chill in the air was a shock after the warm September day and while Casey wheeled the bike out of its lockup lean-to Adele pulled up the collar of her jacket and thrust her hands into her pockets.
Without a word he handed her a crash helmet then proceeded to push the motorbike out of the courtyard, under the archway and out into the road. After only a moment’s hesitation Adele followed him, fastening the helmet as she went. By the time she joined him at the pavement’s edge he was astride the bike.
‘Hold onto me,’ he ordered abruptly after she had mounted and was sitting squarely behind him. ‘I don’t want you falling off. I haven’t time to come back looking for you.’
Taking a deep breath to quell her irritation, Adele slid her arms around his waist as he turned the key in the ignition and with a slight shudder the big machine purred into life.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been on a motorbike. When she and Elaine had been growing up, many holidays had been spent with their Irish cousins in Killarney and several of the boys had owned motorbikes. It had been nothing for a large crowd of them to go into the next town to a club and the bikes had been the only available form of transport. She had enjoyed those rides but that had been all of ten years ago and it felt strange now to feel the steady throb of the engine beneath her. But that was probably where the similarity ended, for those bikes belonging to her cousins had been noisy, smelly contraptions which had seemed to spend as much time in pieces in someone’s back yard as on the road, and the one on which she now rode pillion through the night was a thoroughbred amongst bikes, so luxurious it was almost like sitting in an armchair with its chrome trim and the deep gold of its bodywork gleaming in the moonlight.
They met no other traffic on the mile or so journey to the police station on the far side of Stourborne Abbas and this, together with the powerful nature of the engine of the machine, meant that they covered the distance in next to no time. Adele found she was quite disappointed when they drew onto the forecourt of the police station as she had just been starting to really enjoy being on a bike again. But as they dismounted she firmly reminded herself why they were there and it had nothing to do with riding about the countryside in the middle of the night on high-powered motorbikes.
‘I’m not sure what this is all about,’ said Casey as they climbed the steps to the front entrance of the building. ‘Something to do with a break-in in a warehouse, I think. I dare say someone has been injured. I thought it might be a good place for you to start.’
Adele nodded. She didn’t know what to say. Her body was still trying to adjust to being evicted from sleep and a warm bed in the middle of the night, only to be hurtled through the cold air then deposited on the deserted steps of a police station.
On entering the station, they were greeted by the duty sergeant who, like everyone else Adele had encountered since arriving in Stourborne Abbas, seemed to know Casey very well.
‘What have you got for us?’ asked Casey, then, realising that the sergeant was staring at Adele with undisguised interest, said, ‘Oh, this is Dr Brooks—she’s a trainee at the practice but she’s also interested in police work. Adele…’ He half turned to her. ‘This is Sergeant Alan Munro.’
Adele found her hand encased in a paw-like grip as a huge smile spread across the face of the man behind the desk. ‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dr Brooks. Must say, when I called in our friend Casey I didn’t expect him to have such a charming companion—’
‘Yes, all right, Alan,’ said Casey impatiently. ‘Can we just get on with it, please?’
‘Of course.’ The sergeant winked at Adele who found herself smiling back at him. ‘There was a break-in down at the mobile-phone warehouse. We’d luckily had a tipoff and our boys were ready for them. There was a bit of a scuffle and there are a few minor injuries, which need attending to. There is one of them, however, who appears to have something else wrong with him. He’s been complaining of stomach pains.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to have a look at that one, Adele,’ said Casey. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, catching sight of her anxious expression, ‘the sergeant here will arrange for an officer to accompany you.’
Moments later Adele was being escorted by a police officer into one of the remand cells at the rear of the station, while Casey was taken into another farther down the corridor. As the door clanged shut behind them Adele knew a moment of nervous panic—this was so unlike anything she had ever had to do before—then as she caught sight of the young man lying on the narrow bunk, his knees drawn up to his chest, an expression of agony on his face, her professionalism took over and she forgot her apprehension. She was a doctor and this was a patient requiring her help, whatever the circumstances.
‘This one’s been complaining of stomach pain ever since we brought him in.’ The police officer looked to be even younger than the man on the bunk. ‘You’d better let the doctor have a look at you,’ he added.
The young man briefly raised his head and looked at Adele. ‘Where’s Casey?’ he groaned, ‘I want Casey.’
‘Dr Casey to you,’ said Adele crisply, ‘and he’s otherwise engaged so you’ve got me.’ She leaned over him and with one hand lifted his wrist and placed her other hand on his forehead. He felt incredibly hot to the touch and his pulse was racing rapidly. ‘Where is the pain?’ she asked.
‘Here.’ He indicated the right side of his abdomen. ‘And it moves—all over.’
‘How long have you had the pain?’ Adele perched on the bunk beside him and with his help lifted the grubby T-shirt he was wearing.
‘Started this morning,’ he muttered. ‘Then it went off for a bit. Then it came back during the evening. Since then…it’s been agony.’
‘Any sickness?’
‘Yeah, I threw up in the police van.’
Gently but firmly Adele began examining him, moving her hands across his abdomen. When she reached the lower right side she pressed slightly and as she lifted her hand the young man gave a howl of pain.
‘Sorry,’ said Adele, ‘but I believe I’ve found what I was looking for.’ She glanced up at the police officer standing near the door. ‘This man will have to go to hospital,’ she said briskly.
‘I’ll tell the sarge,’ he replied dubiously, as if he doubted Adele’s authority.
�
�Yes,’ she replied firmly, ‘and while you’re at it tell him to call an ambulance.’ She looked down at the young man again then, seeing the fear in his eyes, gently touched his shoulder. ‘It’s all right,’ she said kindly. ‘They’ll get you sorted out at the hospital.’
‘Can’t you give me nothin’ for the pain?’ he groaned.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ Adele replied. ‘You may well be needing an anaesthetic and if I gave you anything now you would be very sick.’ She stood up and as she followed the officer from the room the young man on the bunk curled himself into the foetal position once more. The door shut behind them and as the officer locked it Adele said, ‘Was that Flo Procter’s son, Stevie, by any chance?’
The officer looked at her in surprise. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘How did you know that? I thought you were new here.’
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I am, but there are some situations that don’t take a lot of working out.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘IT WAS Flo Procter’s son,’ Adele told Casey when he emerged from the cells.
‘Stevie?’ Casey threw her a quick look.
‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve sent for an ambulance or rather I’ve asked the duty sergeant to send for one.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’ There was a frown on Casey’s face now and Adele couldn’t help but wonder how he would react to her decision.
‘I would say almost certainly appendicitis.’
‘I see.’ His reply was terse, measured. ‘So what led you to that conclusion?’
‘He’s suffered abdominal pain for most of the day with it eventually settling low down on the right side. He has some fever, pulse is rapid and he’s vomited. When I examined him there was rebound pain in the appendix area which was very tender.’
By this time they had reached Reception and the duty sergeant looked up from his desk. ‘Ambulance is on its way, Dr Brooks,’ he said then he ruined it by throwing a questioning look at Casey and saying, ‘That all right with you, Casey?’
‘Of course.’ To Adele’s relief Casey nodded briskly. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if he’d questioned her decision or even cancelled the ambulance.
‘You don’t want to examine him for yourself?’
‘Why should I?’ Casey gave a light shrug. ‘Dr Brooks has made her diagnosis—it’s down to A and E now to get him sorted out. One thing we should do, though, is to let Flo Procter know.’ He glanced at Adele. ‘Maybe you’d like that honour, too?’
‘Well…’ Adele mentally began bracing herself for such an awesome task.
‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t serious. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.’ Casey looked at Alan. ‘May I use the phone?’
‘Be my guest.’ The sergeant indicated the desk phone.
Casey lifted the receiver then paused. ‘Has he been charged with anything yet?’
‘Not really.’ Alan shook his head. ‘At this stage he’s helping us with our enquiries, although I have to say if he hadn’t been taken ill he would have been charged with breaking and entering by now.’
‘OK. Fine.’ Casey punched out a number and Adele realised he must have known it from memory. As he was waiting for someone in the Procter household to answer the phone, the main doors of the station were flung open and another group of men were marched inside amidst much shouting and swearing and a scuffle that broke out between the men and some of the plain-clothes officers who accompanied them.
‘It’s like Piccadilly Circus in here tonight,’ grumbled Alan. ‘And to think this wasn’t even my shift. I swapped with Dave Masters because it was his mother-in-law’s sixtieth birthday party. He owes me one does our Dave.’
‘Flo?’ Casey put a hand round his ear to allow him to hear against the noise inside the station. ‘It’s Casey. I’m down at the station. Stevie’s here.’ He paused. ‘Helping with enquiries is the official line…’ He held the phone away from his ear and in spite of the din around them Adele quite clearly heard Flo’s shouts of anger.
‘There’s more, Flo,’ Casey went on after a moment. ‘I’m afraid Stevie’s not well. What? His stomach again. We’ve sent for an ambulance. No, Dr Brooks examined him. She’s pretty certain it’s his appendix. They’ll be taking him to Stourborne A and E. Can you get there, Flo? Good. OK. I’ll speak to you later.’ He hung up and turned to Adele. ‘Flo and her daughter Tammy are going to get a taxi to the hospital. She said when Stevie’s better she’s going to kill him.’
‘We want him back before that,’ said Alan dryly.
Casey turned to Adele. ‘Well, I think that’s you and me finished here so I guess we’d better salvage what’s left of the night. See you, Alan.’ He nodded to the desk sergeant.
‘Yes, see you, Casey.’ Alan paused and looked at Adele. ‘Hope we see you again, too, Dr Brooks.’
‘I’m sure you will.’ It was Casey who answered.
Together they left the building and as they were approaching the bike Casey suddenly chuckled.
‘What is it?’ Adele threw him a questioning look.
‘I was just thinking of poor old Flo.’
‘Was she very upset?’ asked Adele. By this time they had reached the bike and were securing their helmets once more, and Adele realised she was actually looking forward to the ride home.
‘More angry than upset, I think,’ Casey replied, pulling on his leather gauntlets. ‘Mind you, she should be used to it by now—there’s always one or another of her brood in some sort of trouble. I only wish Stevie had stayed around long enough this morning for us to see him. Maybe we could have prevented this.’ He mounted the bike and waited for Adele to climb onto the pillion.
‘Tell me,’ she said, leaning forward slightly over Casey’s shoulder so that he could hear her. ‘Stevie who?’
He turned his head so that his face was only inches from her own. ‘Wonder, I should think,’ he murmured then he started the engine.
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ With a smile Adele slipped her arms around his waist and they purred away into the night.
When they reached Woolverton House Adele waited in the doorway while Casey put the bike away. As he joined her she tried unsuccessfully to hide a yawn.
‘Tired?’ he said, not unsympathetically.
‘Just a bit,’ she admitted.
‘Well, I guess you’ve had quite a day. Try and get a bit more sleep now.’
Together they climbed the stairs and when they reached his landing Adele paused for a moment. ‘See you later,’ she said wearily.
He nodded. ‘Goodnight—what’s left of it.’
She stumbled up the second flight of stairs, vaguely aware that he stood on his landing, watching her, making no attempt to go to his own flat. At last she reached her own door, opened it, stepped inside then stood for a moment with her back to the door and her eyes closed. Casey was right—it had been quite a day. Opening her eyes, she flicked the light switch and looked at the clock on the wall. The hands stood at four-fifteen. With luck she might be able to grab another three hours of sleep before she need get ready for morning surgery.
It was, however, not to be because, tired as she was, Adele found it incredibly difficult to get back to sleep. Her thoughts were chaotic, ranging from images from the police station—from Stevie’s pain to the noise and disruption from the men who had been brought in—to the sensation of riding through the night on that high-powered machine with her arms wrapped tightly around Casey’s waist. There had been something so unusual, almost alien about the whole experience that it had stirred something in Adele which now, in retrospect, she recognised as excitement and which, when she thought about it, was ridiculous because it wasn’t as if it had been the first time that she’d ridden on a motorbike. If it had been, she would probably have been terrified. So, if it wasn’t that, she really couldn’t account for this source of excitement.
Maybe, she thought as her digital clock passed five-thirty, it could have been the fact that she was at last being involved in some police w
ork. After all, hadn’t that been an ambition for a very long time?
Yes, she thought at last as she tossed and turned, that must be what it was—because really and truly there was nothing else it could have been.
She must have drifted off to sleep at about six o’clock only to be awakened by her alarm at seven. With a groan she buried her head in the pillow, then as thirty seconds later the clock repeated its insistent message she hauled herself out of bed in an attempt to prepare herself to face another day.
News came from the hospital that Stevie had undergone an appendicectomy and Adele suspected that Casey paid a private visit either to the hospital or to see Flo at home.
The remaining days of the week followed a similar pattern to that first day, with Adele sitting in on Casey’s surgeries, attending house visits with him and becoming familiar with every aspect of the running of the Woolverton House practice, from nurses’ clinics to administration and clerical.
Gradually she was getting to grips with procedures, learning people’s names—whether members of staff or patients and their families. Then, at the end of the week, quite casually, as if he were commenting on the weather forecast, Casey informed her without any warning that that afternoon she would be taking her first surgery and that he would be sitting in with her.
She stared at him in astonishment. She had been expecting it to be after the weekend, probably the Monday morning surgery, not the final one on a Friday afternoon.
‘Better this one than Monday,’ he said, reading her mind. ‘This way you won’t worry about it all over the weekend.’ They had just returned from a couple of house visits and were sitting in the staffroom drinking mugs of coffee. Piles of repeat prescriptions requiring his signature surrounded Casey, while Adele had been leafing through copies of medical magazines, trying to keep abreast of the latest research. ‘You happy with that?’ he asked as if as an afterthought when Adele remained silent.
Police Doctor Page 6
