The Italian's New-Year Marriage Wish (8 page)

‘How is Lucy?' Amy tried to ignore the heavy feeling of dread that sat in her stomach. ‘Is she doing all right?'

‘Very well, considering the baby was premature. Annabel is still in Special Care but they're hoping to be back home for New Year.' Nick tapped his fingers on the desk, his expres
sion thoughtful. It was clear that he was already planning, his mind on the practice and the needs of the local population. ‘So, Amy, it's pretty obvious that you should just take on Lucy's patients and the antenatal clinic. I seem to remember that obstetrics was always your big love so it makes sense.'

Amy's mouth dried. ‘No!' Forgetting all about the sleeping arrangements, she shook her head. ‘No. I mean…could I do one of the other clinics?'
Not antenatal. Please, God, not that. Not now.
‘It would be great to do something different. Don't you do the antenatal clinic? I'd hate to take it away from you.' Aware that Marco was looking at her in astonishment, she tried to recover herself but Nick was frowning, too.

‘Since Lucy left I've had to cover the minor surgery and I can't do it all. Marco does child health, of course, and Alison Myers, our practice nurse, does a fair few clinics on her own with no help. Dragan has other responsibilities that take him further afield, so he can't take on obstetrics.' Nick narrowed his eyes, studying her face carefully. ‘You love obstetrics. Pregnant women were always your special interest. What's the problem? Is it something to do with your stint in Africa? I mean, it's not as if you're going to be expected to deliver the babies or anything. Just deliver the antenatal care. Have you had a drama that we ought to know about?'

‘No. Nothing like that.' Her heart was galloping and her palms were damp. ‘There's no problem, really,' she lied, her voice barely working. ‘I just thought maybe it would be better to have a more permanent doctor doing that particular clinic. For continuity. Women like continuity, don't they?'

She wished Marco would stop looking at her. And now Nick was looking at her, too. And she had a feeling that the older doctor would be asking her questions sooner rather than later.

‘Ideally, yes,' Nick said slowly, his gaze intent on her face. ‘But in this case I think they'll just be delighted to have a
female doctor with expertise in obstetrics. I can't imagine that anyone is going to protest.'

She was protesting.
But now they were both staring at her and she knew that she'd already betrayed far too much.

‘Well, if you're sure they won't mind—I'll do the clinic, of course.' She gave what she hoped was a casual smile. ‘It will be fine.' Fine. Fine. Fine. She was a trained professional. She could deliver whatever medical care was required of her.

She could do antenatal.

She could switch off. Shut down her feelings. Wasn't that what she'd done for the past two years?

‘Good.' Nick's eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer and then he turned back to Marco. ‘So that's decided, then. I'll tell Kate and she can inform the patients. Good news. Thanks, Amy. A timely arrival on your part if ever there was one. Lucky for us.'

Not lucky, Amy thought miserably, biting her lip so hard that she tasted blood.
Not lucky at all.

 

‘All right, so what the hell is happening between you and Amy? Is this happy ever after?' Nick hooked his hands behind his head and rocked back on his chair. ‘Are the two of you back together?'

Marco lounged in the chair opposite, his expression guarded. ‘Are you asking as my friend or my colleague?'

‘What difference does it make? It's a simple yes or no answer.'

‘We're not back together again…' Marco paused. ‘Yet.'

‘But you're working on it. It's what you want, obviously.' Nick made an impatient sound. ‘What about Amy? The two of you were good together. What the hell is going on? I never really under stood why she left in the first place.'

Marco kept his response factual. ‘Apparently she wanted a career instead of children.'

‘Amy?'
Nick looked at him in disbelief. ‘That doesn't sound
right. She was very excited about starting a family. I remember catching her staring at a baby outfit in a shop window one day. She went a deep shade of scarlet but she had that look in her eyes. That look that warns you to go out and buy a people carrier.'

Marco didn't laugh. ‘Well, the look has disappeared. It isn't what she wants any more. She doesn't want babies and she doesn't want me.'

‘I wonder why not.'

‘She doesn't love me enough.' Marco gave what he hoped passed as a casual shrug. ‘It happens.'

Nick laughed with genuine amusement. ‘But not to you. Women always love you. It's the accent and the dark, brooding eyes. Come on, Marco! What's the matter with you? Amy loves you! Anyone can see that. She isn't a woman who is fickle in her affections! She's a one-man woman and you're that man. You always have been.'

‘Apparently not.' Feeling suddenly irritable, Marco rose to his feet. ‘Was there anything else we needed to talk about? Because my love life has run its course as a topic of conversation.'

‘How's the car? Did you get the Maserati fixed?'

‘Yesterday. Kate arranged it.'

The change in Nick's expression was barely perceptible. ‘She's a wonderfully efficient practice manager.'

And she was willing to be a great deal more if Nick would only give her some encouragement, Marco thought, wondering if his colleague was truly as obtuse about Kate's feelings as he pretended to be. Or was it much more complicated than that? Was he still churned up and guilty about the death of his wife? Unable to commit to anyone else?

Marco gave a mental shrug and decided not to pursue the subject. He had enough problems of his own in that department and he certainly wasn't in a position to lecture other
people on how to run their love lives. ‘I've put Amy in Lucy's consulting room. I assume that's all right with you.'

‘As long as she's seeing patients I don't care if she's doing it from the toilet,' Nick drawled. Then he leaned forward. ‘Any idea why she was so reluctant to run the antenatal clinic?'

‘She doesn't really want to be here at all.' Marco gave a grim smile. ‘I used some psychological leverage to get us a doctor for a few weeks. She's here under duress, I'm afraid.'

‘Well, I guessed that.' Nick frowned and tapped his pen on the desk. ‘But I had a feeling that there might be something more going on. She looked…distraught at the thought of doing that clinic. Pale. Ill. Maybe she's just tired.'

Marco felt a flicker of unease. ‘Yes, I think something is wrong, too. That's why I want her to stay. Once I find out what it is and help her solve it, I'll let her go. Perhaps the problem is just that she wants to be as far away from me as is humanly possible.'

‘It could be that. But she's a woman…' Nick flicked the switch on his computer ‘…which also means that it's likely to be something a million times more complicated than that. Watch her, Marco. There's something going on. Just don't let your personal life affect the practice.'

Marco tensed and his voice was a low growl. ‘I don't need that lecture from you.'

‘Good.' Nick gave a cool smile. ‘Then I won't give it.'

 

‘He's getting these headaches,' the woman said, pulling the little boy onto her lap. ‘Always behind the left eye and he says it's like a drilling pain.'

Amy glanced at the child's notes, checking that there was nothing in his history that she should know about. ‘And what's he like when he gets the headache, Sue? Can he still play or does he have to go and lie down?'

‘I give him paracetamol syrup and he lies down. Then he's
generally up and playing within about an hour and a half. The syrup works really well.'

Amy turned to the child. ‘And when you have your bad headache, Harry, do you feel sick?'

‘Sometimes I feel a bit churny in my stomach.'

‘A bit churny.' Smiling at the description, Amy gave a sympathetic nod. ‘Are you actually sick?'

‘No, but when it happens at school they give me a bowl, just in case.'

Amy looked at Sue. ‘And how long has he been getting headaches?'

‘It's hard to say.' Sue bit her lip. ‘I mean, children get headaches, don't they, so I didn't really think about it at first. Then it became more frequent and when he gets them he's sobbing and crying and it's quite scary. And I started to think—I mean—you're going to think I'm completely paranoid. A headache is just a headache isn't it? It's just that—' She broke off and glanced at the boy, clearly concerned about saying too much in front of him.

Amy leaned forward and wrote on a piece of paper. Then she leaned forward and gave it to the child. ‘Harry, would you be kind enough to take this to the lady behind Reception for me? And then come back here. Thank you, sweet heart. That's really helpful.'

Eager to please, Harry left the room and Amy turned to the mother. ‘I sense that there are things that you don't want to say in front of him.'

‘Well, I don't want to worry him. And I'm probably just being paranoid but it's hard not to be with my history. I was diagnosed with bowel cancer two years ago and everyone told me that it couldn't possibly be anything serious. And then it was. I've had chemo and operations and—well, it's been really, really hard. And it makes you realise that things go wrong. People say, “Oh, it won't be anything,” but that's what they said about me and they were wrong. It
was
something.
And when that happens you can't just look at a headache and think headache, can you? I try and do that and all the time I'm thinking brain tumour.'

‘You're not alone in that and you have more reason than most to worry, given everything that has happened,' Amy said softly, feeling her heart twist with sympathy. ‘You've obviously had a terrible time. I'm so sorry.'

‘It's not too bad now, things have gone quiet. But now this.' Sue looked at Amy and her eyes filled. ‘I can cope with anything that happens to me but if anything happens to my child—to Harry—that's it, I'm telling you that now. That's it for me. No more. If my baby is ill, then I'll…' Tears poured down her cheeks and Amy reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.

‘It is very unlikely that this is anything serious, but I can understand why you're worried, so this is what we're going to do. We're going to take a very, very good look at him and if necessary we'll refer him to the paediatrician for a specialist opinion. Anything we need to do to reassure you.'

‘And how long will that take?' Sue reached into her bag for a tissue and blew her nose hard. ‘I'm not sleeping at night because I'm so worried.'

The door opened and Harry bounced back into the room. ‘She said, “thank you.”'

Sue absolutely pulled herself together, her smile just a little too bright as she scrunched up the tissue and pushed it up her sleeve. ‘Good boy.'

‘Yes, thank you, Harry.' Amy smiled and then turned back to Sue. ‘Let's start by taking some history. Does anyone in the family suffer from migraines?'

‘My mother and my sister. But not for years. I did take Harry to have his eyes tested because I thought it might be that, but the optician said that his eyes are fine. I brought you the report, just in case you wanted to see it.' She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a piece of paper.

Amy glanced at the results and nodded. ‘Yes, they're fine. Nothing there that should cause a headache.' She asked a few more questions, recorded the answers carefully and then smiled at the boy. ‘Hop on my couch, Harry, and I'll take a look at you.'

She examined the child thoroughly, found nothing that alarmed her but saw the desperate worry in Sue's eyes.

Amy thought for a moment. ‘Sue, I can't find anything that would lead me to believe this is anything other than a straight-for ward headache, but given your history I think it would be reassuring for you to have a second opinion. Dr Avanti is a qualified paediatrician, as you know. I think what we might do, given how worried you are, is to ask him to take a look at Harry.'

‘Would he have time?'

Amy looked at the clock. ‘Well, it's the end of surgery so let me just pop in and ask him and see how he's fixed.'

She left the room and found Marco in his consulting room, talking on the phone. He waved a hand towards a chair, finished the conversation and then looked at her expectantly. ‘Problems?'

‘I have Sue Miller in my room.'

‘Sue?' His gaze sharpened. ‘What's the matter with her? She was diagnosed with colorectal cancer a couple of years ago. I know Lucy did some follow-up with her.'

Amy looked at him curiously. ‘Do you know everyone's patients?'

‘
Sì
, if they have a history of serious illness, it's my business to know. It's important that all the partners are aware of what is going on.' He shrugged. ‘She was discussed in a practice meeting a while ago. She's always a priority patient for us. So, why is she seeing you today?'

‘It isn't about her. It's about Harry. He's seven and he's been having headaches.'

Marco gave a slow nod. ‘And she thinks this is symptomatic of a brain tumour, no? I'm sure she is very anxious.'

‘Exactly. Understandable in the circumstances.'

‘Of course. And you've examined him?'

‘Yes. I can't find anything, but I can see that she's very worried. I could always refer her to a paediatrician, but that would take time and given that you are a paediatrician, I thought you might look at him for me. Provide instant reassurance.' She frowned. ‘Always assuming that there
isn't
anything to worry about.'