The Doctor's Christmas Gift. Jennifer Taylor

over her shoulder when she heard a noise behind her but it was only a rusty old can being blown along the pavement by the wind. She huddled closer to the wall, wishing that she was safely back at the surgery.

      It was almost four o’clock and she had never expected to still be doing house calls at that time of the day, but things hadn’t gone according to plan. A number of the calls she’d made that afternoon had taken far longer than she’d anticipated so that she’d been running late even before she’d arrived at the block of flats on the very edge of their catchment area. In contrast to the more prosperous streets she had driven through that afternoon, this whole area was very run-down. Most of the flats seemed to have been boarded up and there were mounds of rubbish strewn across the street. Although there was nobody about, she couldn’t deny that she felt extremely edgy.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ Matthew’s voice sharpened in concern and for some reason she found herself relaxing. It was strangely comforting to know that he was worried about her.

      ‘Would you believe that I’m lost?’ she replied, trying to damp down the warm glow that had flooded through her.

      ‘I’d find it rather hard, I have to admit.’

      He laughed and she had a sudden mental image of him sitting at his desk in his office. His blue eyes would be full of laughter and his mouth would be curled into that wonderful smile which never seemed to be far from his lips…

      ‘Getting lost doesn’t strike me as something you do very often, Cathy.’

      The warmth inside her increased tenfold when he called her by the diminutive again. Catherine fought to control it by focusing on the problem at hand.

      ‘It isn’t, and I really can’t understand what’s gone wrong this time,’ she said briskly. ‘There’s only one street with this name according to my map. Is it possible that Margaret could have given me the wrong address?’

      ‘Well, it’s possible, I suppose, although I have to say that it’s highly unlikely. Margaret is a stickler for detail whenever anyone requests a home visit.’ Matt sounded puzzled. ‘Tell me where you are and I’ll check it out.’

      ‘Thanks.’ Catherine rattled off the name and address that had been written on the call slip.

      ‘Got it. Hang on a sec while I check the files,’ he instructed. ‘The patient’s name doesn’t seem to ring any bells, I have to confess.’

      There was a soft thud as he put the receiver down. Catherine clamped the cellphone against her ear as she waited for him to come back. She wasn’t normally a nervous person but there was something decidedly unsettling about standing in the middle of the deserted street. It was a huge relief when Matt came back on the line a few seconds later.

      ‘I’ve got the file right here in front of me and the information you have is correct. We have Mrs Grimes listed as living at number forty-two Ansell Heights.’

      ‘Then I’m not sure what’s happened,’ Catherine admitted, hoping Matt couldn’t tell how nervous she felt. ‘I must have knocked at least a dozen times, but I couldn’t get an answer.’

      ‘That’s strange. According to our records, Mrs Grimes has lived there for some time. She must be in her seventies now and the last time we saw her at the surgery was just over three years ago. She’s one of Glenda’s patients, which explains why I don’t remember her.’

      There was a touch of impatience in his voice but Catherine knew she wasn’t responsible for it. He was annoyed with himself for not being able to recall the patient in question.

      ‘You can’t remember every patient who’s registered with the practice,’ she pointed out.

      ‘Hmm, s’pose not.’ He gave a rueful laugh. ‘How did you know what I was thinking?’

      How indeed? It was a good question and one she had no intention of answering. ‘A lucky guess,’ she replied shortly, refusing to dwell on how easily she had latched onto his thoughts. ‘Anyway, thanks for checking the address for me. I’ll give it one last shot then call it a day. Maybe Mrs Grimes felt better and went out, forgetting that she’d asked for a home visit.’

      ‘It’s possible but I think I’ll have a word with Social Services to see if they’ve had any dealings with her recently. I’d hate to think she might be too ill to answer the door.’

      ‘Good point,’ Catherine agreed. ‘I’ll check back with you if I can’t get a reply this time and we’ll take it from there.’

      ‘Do that. I’m here if you need me, Cathy. Just give me a call.’

      ‘I will.’

      Catherine sighed as she slipped the phone into her pocket, wondering if she should ask Matt not to keep calling her Cathy. She didn’t want to cause a fuss but it might be better to make her feelings clear. Of course, the other alternative was to ignore it…

      Oh, yeah! a small voice jeered. So she could ignore him calling her Cathy, could she?

      Her mouth pursed because she really wasn’t used to behaving in this ambivalent fashion. Normally, she wouldn’t have hesitated about making her feelings plain so it was galling to find herself debating the issue. What was it about Matt that made even the simplest decision so difficult?

      She had no more idea what the answer was to that question than she had to so many others that seemed to have arisen of late so she put it out of her mind as she went back inside the building and made her way to the fourth floor. She rapped on the door and almost leapt out of her skin when a querulous voice answered from inside.

      ‘Who’s there? What do you want?’

      ‘It’s Dr Lewis, Mrs Grimes. From Brookdale Surgery.’

      ‘Lewis? I don’t know any doctor by the name of Lewis. You get away from here. Go on. Leave me alone!’

      Catherine frowned when she heard the panic in the old lady’s voice. The poor soul sounded really terrified and she couldn’t understand why she should be so afraid.

      ‘I’m new at the surgery, which is why you won’t have heard of me. I only started working there on Monday, in fact. I’m replacing Dr Williams while she’s away on leave.’

      She carried on in the same reassuring vein when the old lady didn’t reply. ‘There’s really nothing to be frightened about, Mrs Grimes. I just want to check that you’re all right so won’t you, please, open the door?’