‘Good. I don’t want to add to the pressure Ross is under at the moment. To be honest, I don’t think he should be at work today. It’s madness to try and carry on as though nothing has happened.’
‘We’ll do our best to lighten his load as much as we can,’ Matt said soothingly. ‘Carol said that you’d asked her to re-jig his lists so that should help. And if it gets too much for him then he must go home.’
‘You wouldn’t mind?’ Rachel smiled in relief when he shook his head. ‘Thanks, Matt. I know Ross thinks I’m fussing but I can’t help worrying about him.’
‘Of course you can’t,’ Matt replied, his innards doing cartwheels as he basked in the glow of her smile. He cleared his throat and forced himself to focus. ‘Right, I’d better get ready before my first patient arrives and catches me on the hop.’
‘Me too. There’s nothing more offputting for a patient than watching their doctor scrabbling about, trying to find the right case notes. It doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, does it?’
Rachel laughed as she hurried away, causing his insides to perform yet another tricky manoeuvre. Matt thankfully went into his room and closed the door, hoping it would provide some protection from what ailed him.
He sighed as he sat down behind his desk. What did ail him, though? Was it the shock of Heather cancelling her wedding and leaving Dalverston that was making him feel as though he was on some sort of emotional roller-coaster ride?
For eight long years, ever since Claire had died so tragically of a stroke, he had felt very little. Every thought, every fibre of his being, had been poured into looking after Heather. Caring for Heather had filled the void left by his wife’s death, but now that Heather no longer needed him he had nothing to fill it with. Did that explain why he was suddenly experiencing all these desires and urges he had believed long dead?
Matt tried to tell himself it was that simple but in his heart he knew it wasn’t true. He was merely papering over the cracks because he was afraid of what he would find if he delved too deeply. He had loved once and it had been the most wonderful experience of his life. He was too scared to try and repeat it, terrified that it could only end in disappointment. How could he ever hope to find another woman to replace Claire?
He couldn’t because Claire had been unique, special. However, it didn’t mean that there wasn’t someone else equally special in her own unique way. Once again his thoughts returned to Rachel and a little tingle ran through him, like a frisson of static electricity passing over his skin. He could deny it till the moon turned blue but the truth was that Rachel definitely had an effect on him.
Chapter Three
RACHEL heaved a sigh of relief as she sat down at her desk and switched on the computer. She had been dreading seeing Matt after what had happened over the weekend. Time and again she had found herself returning to the thought that he would never love anyone the way he had loved his late wife and it was so stupid to have let the idea upset her. She really couldn’t understand why it had become such a big deal when she had always known how he felt.
In the whole time she had worked at Dalverston Surgery, Matt had never shown any interest in another woman. He never dated, never flirted, never even hinted that he was interested in the opposite sex. He had poured all his energy into his job and caring for Heather, and she had admired him for it too, so why had that admiration suddenly changed to concern? Was she reflecting her own emotional turmoil onto him?
Rachel wasn’t sure if that was the real answer and it was unsettling to find herself dealing with uncertainties when she preferred absolutes. It was a relief when her first patient arrived and she could concentrate on her instead. Miss Bessie Parish was eighty years old, a spinster who had lived in Dalverston all her life. She was one of Ross’s patients normally but she had agreed to see Rachel instead that day. Rachel invited her to sit down and asked her what she could do for her.
‘I’ve not felt at all well lately, Dr Mackenzie,’ Miss Parish replied in her forthright way. ‘I had a nasty cold a couple of weeks ago and it’s left me feeling very wheezy and breathless.’
‘I see. Have you had a cough as well?’ Rachel asked, picking up her stethoscope.
‘Yes, and I’ve been bringing up phlegm too.’
Miss Parish’s mouth pursed with distaste and Rachel nodded sympathetically.
‘Horrible for you, I’m sure. Now, I’d just like to listen to your chest, if you wouldn’t mind.’ She waited while Miss Parish unbuttoned her coat then listened to her chest. ‘And I’ll take your temperature too,’ she told her once she had finished doing that.
Miss Parish sat perfectly still while Rachel checked her temperature. The reading was higher than it should have been and Rachel nodded because it confirmed her suspicions. Sitting down at her desk again, she smiled at the old lady.
‘It looks as though you have bronchitis, Miss Parish. The symptoms you described certainly point towards it—wheezing, shortness of breath, a persistent cough that produces considerable quantities of phlegm. Your temperature is higher than it should be, too, which is another indication.’
‘Bronchitis? Well, I never!’ Miss Parish looked shocked.
‘It’s an acute form and we can treat it quite easily with a course of antibiotics,’ Rachel said soothingly. She wrote out a script and handed it over along with detailed instructions aimed at making the old lady more comfortable in the interim.
Miss Parish listened attentively to what she said then nodded. ‘I shall follow your advice, Dr Mackenzie. Thank you. I must say that I was very sorry to hear what had happened to your son. It can’t be easy for him, having his wedding cancelled like that.’
‘I’m sure Ross will deal with it,’ Rachel replied evenly, hoping to avoid any further well-meaning comments.
‘Oh, I’m sure he will. Once he gets over the shock, I expect he’ll realise that it’s better it happened now rather than later.’ Miss Parish stood up. ‘So many young couples end up getting divorced these days and that must be just as distressing for them, I imagine.’
Rachel frowned as the old lady bade her goodbye and left. Would the marriage have ended in divorce if it had gone ahead? she wondered. A couple of days ago she would have pooh-poohed the idea but she was no longer so sure. Heather obviously had had her doubts and that was why she had called the wedding off.
She sighed because it just proved how difficult relationships really were. Even those that seemed guaranteed to succeed could and did fail. It took both love and an awful lot of commitment to build a lasting relationship, not to mention that vital spark Matt had mentioned. That was essential too. Thinking about Matt immediately reminded her of what had troubled her all weekend and she groaned. She didn’t want to go down that road again!
She buzzed in her next patient, a young woman with a screaming toddler suffering from a nasty ear infection. It was hard to make herself heard over the din the poor little mite was making but Rachel was glad because it blotted out any other thoughts. She didn’t want to dwell on what a special relationship Matt must have had with his late wife when it was so painful, didn’t want to sit here daydreaming about him when she had work to do. It wasn’t the best way to get things back onto a normal footing, which was what she desperately needed to do.
Lunchtime arrived and Rachel hurried to Ross’s room to see how he had fared. She caught him as he was about to leave and her heart ached with motherly concern when she saw how drawn he looked. Having his wedding cancelled at the eleventh hour must have been a terrible experience for him despite the brave front he was putting up. She wasn’t sure that he should be at work, but he was adamant that he