‘My oestrogen levels…’ Diane repeated, then gasped. ‘You don’t think I could be going through the menopause, do you? I mean, I’m only thirty-six so surely it’s far too early for that to happen?’
‘I don’t intend to make any snap judgements today. However, you told me last year that you and Martin were trying for a baby so it’s possible that you haven’t conceived because your fertility levels have fallen. The blood test will confirm that, one way or the other.’
‘But does that mean I won’t be able to have a baby now?’ Diane asked in dismay.
‘I really can’t say what will happen until I know exactly what’s going on, Diane,’ Helen replied gently, uncapping a syringe and taking an alcohol swab out of its foil packet.
‘How long will it take to find out?’ Diane demanded, wincing as the needle slid into her arm.
‘Just a couple of days.’ Helen carefully withdrew the small amount of blood she needed for the tests and smiled reassuringly. ‘I’ll give it top priority so we should have the results back by the end of the week. And I’ll phone you immediately once I get them.’
‘And if it is the onset of the menopause, then what happens? Is there anything you can do to stop it?’
‘If it is that, I shall refer you to a fertility specialist. There’s a very good clinic near Blackpool which has achieved some excellent results. But it’s all speculation at this stage. We need to see those results before we know what we’re dealing with.’
Diane sighed as she stood up. ‘I don’t know what I’m hoping for now. If the tests show that I’m going through an early menopause, it will explain why I’ve been feeling so dreadful, but it could also mean that Martin and I might never have a family.’
‘I know how difficult it must be for you but at least we’re doing something positive and that’s the main thing.’
Helen made herself sound as upbeat as possible as she saw Diane out. However, she couldn’t helping drawing a comparison with her own situation. She was thirty-eight and her own fertility levels must be dropping, too. Ian had never wanted them to have a child because he’d had the twins. His first wife had died soon after Helen had started her GP training at The Beeches and it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to offer her help when Ian had found it difficult to manage with two small children to look after on top of doing his job.
Tom and Katie had been six when she had married Ian, and by that time she had loved them as much as she would have loved her own children. However, she couldn’t deny that it had been a blow when she’d found out that Ian hadn’t wanted to add to their family. She’d kept hoping that he would change his mind, but it hadn’t happened. Now it seemed unlikely that she would ever give birth to her own son or daughter, and she couldn’t help feeling sad at the thought of what she was missing.
No wonder Lewis was so determined to do all he could for his daughter, she thought, then sighed in exasperation. Why did every single thought lead back to Lewis?
Lewis was late for the meeting, mainly because he still hadn’t got used to judging the length of time he could spend with each patient. Six minutes were allotted for each consultation and it was far too little in his opinion. Harry and Amy were already sitting at the staffroom table with an open tin of biscuits in front of them when he arrived. Helen was pouring coffee and she glanced round when he appeared.
‘Black or white?’
‘Black, please, with plenty of sugar.’
‘Sounds like you had a hard morning,’ Amy said, grinning as he sat down. A pretty girl in her twenties, she was engaged to a policeman and in the throes of planning a summer wedding.
‘I haven’t adjusted to the conveyor-belt system you operate here so I find it difficult to keep up.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Switching my brain from what analgesic to prescribe for a teething toddler to how to treat Mr Parsons’s gout all in the space of a couple of minutes takes some doing!’
‘It must be your age,’ Amy retorted. ‘That’s why you can’t keep up.’
‘Cheeky monkey!’ Lewis laughed out loud. It was refreshing to be treated as just another member of the team after the awe he’d inspired in his previous post. ‘I’ll remind you of that in a few years’ time when you’re having problems keeping up the pace.’
‘Ah, but I’ll still be younger than you so I’ll still fare better,’ Amy countered.
‘Touché!’ He shook his head in defeat because he obviously wasn’t going to win this argument. He glanced round when Helen brought over the coffee, feeling his heart leap when her hand accidentally brushed against his as she placed it in front of him.
‘Thanks.’ Picking up the mug, he took a gulp of the coffee in the hope that it would steady him, but his hand was still tingling from the contact and it worried him that he should be so aware of her. He’d had his share of relationships and didn’t intend to have any more until Kristy was all grown up and no longer needed him. And by that time he’d be too old to bother!
‘Is Mr Parsons’s gout getting worse?’
Helen sat down opposite him and he hastily returned his thoughts to the reason for the meeting. He was supposed to be discussing his patients’ problems, not thinking about his own.
‘It’s spread to his ankle now and he’s in a lot of pain. The joint is very red and swollen, and obviously tender. Unfortunately, he forgot to renew his prescription after the last bout so he didn’t have any medication to stave it off. I gave him an injection of corticosteroids and another script. I also took some blood to check his levels of uric acid. He might need a new drug and diet regime to reduce the levels of uric acid in his body and help his kidneys excrete it more quickly. I noticed from his file that it’s two years since his last review so he must be due for one.’
‘He is. Let me know when the test results come back and we can discuss it then.’ She put her mug down and reached for the biscuit tin at the same moment as he went to get it. Once again their hands touched and he jerked his back when he felt the current of electricity that arced between them.
‘Of course, if you’re interested,’ he replied thickly, struggling to get a grip on himself.
‘Tom Parsons is one of our oldest patients. He was the first person to sign on when the practice opened so naturally I’m interested,’ Helen replied neutrally, so neutrally, in fact, that he couldn’t help wondering if she’d felt the electricity, too.
He shot her a wary glance but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking, and maybe it was better that he couldn’t. There was no room in his life for Helen or any other woman when he had Kristy to consider. The thought steadied him and he looked calmly at her. ‘I can’t imagine having patients for that length of time. Most of the people I treated at St Leona’s I saw just a couple of times—once before their surgery and once after it was over.’
‘It’s totally different here,’ Harry put in, helping himself to a biscuit. ‘Most of the folk we see have been on our books for years. Talk about from the cradle to the grave isn’t in it!’
Lewis smiled at the wry note in the younger man’s voice. ‘Don’t you approve?’
‘Oh, it’s great if you like that sort of thing.’ Harry grimaced. ‘It’s just not for me. I want a bit of excitement in my life before I settle for the old pipe and slippers routine. To be honest, I can’t imagine why you decided to swop an interesting job in London for working here…no offence intended, Helen,’ he added as an obvious afterthought.
‘And none taken,’ she replied smoothly. ‘I know this is just a stopgap for you, Harry, before you move on to bigger and