The GP's Marriage Wish. Judy Campbell

Think you can put on an act?’

      She pulled her face away from his hand and said loftily, ‘I shall act in a dignified way, Connor. We’re both mature people—I’m sure we can manage to work together without bickering the whole time.’

      ‘Hallelujah to that!’ he remarked.

      Karen, the practice nurse, ran towards them. ‘Oh, Victoria, you wouldn’t see one last patient this morning, would you? She’s only about ten and has come in by herself—I don’t think she’s even registered with the practice, but she looks really poorly. Connor’s still got another patient so he can’t see her.’

      Connor had started to walk back towards the surgery, his feet making a scrunching noise on the path. Victoria watched him go before she went with Karen to see the patient and sighed. Would Connor and she ever be able to get on normally with each other? Having to ‘put on an act’might get rather wearing!

      * * *

      The young girl looked down at the floor, twisting her hands together.

      ‘What’s your name?’ Victoria asked her gently.

      ‘Evie Gelevska,’ was the whispered reply after a long pause. ‘I’m eighteen.’

      ‘Can you tell me what’s wrong, Evie?’ Victoria probed, while doing a quick visual assessment of the young patient, a thin pale little figure dressed in a ragtag collection of old pullovers with holes in them and a skimpy skirt. There was an unkempt air about her, as if she hadn’t bathed or washed for some time.

      Evie looked up at Victoria timidly. ‘My throat’s sore. I thought you could give me something to make it better.’

      There was just the hint of an accent in the girl’s voice, a trace of a European inflection perhaps. She smiled kindly at her. ‘I’m sure I can, Evie. Let me have a look at it. Open your mouth, pet, and I’ll shine this torch on it to let me see better.’ Victoria bent down and peered into her mouth. No wonder the poor girl was in pain: both tonsils were inflamed and there were white spots of pus on the periphery. She looked up at Evie’s scared face.

      ‘Poor you,’ she said. ‘It does look painful—but I can give you some medicine that will make it feel a lot better in a few days. Now I’ll have to take some details about you first—you aren’t registered with us, are you?’

      She went round to her desk and opened up a new file on the computer for Evie Gelevska. ‘What’s your address?’

      ‘I live at the bottom of Smithy Lane in one of the cottages there.’

      Victoria nodded; she knew it well as the lane was behind her house. ‘Right—and where’s your mum? Couldn’t she come with you?’

      There was silence for a second, then the girl muttered, ‘She’s not well herself…but she’s sort of used to it.’

      Victoria looked puzzled. ‘Has she got a sore throat, too?’

      Evie hesitated, then said slowly, ‘No—it’s not that sort of illness. I mean she’s OK really. Just finds it hard to get about.’

      ‘I see. Have you just come to this area then?’

      ‘Yes. We’ve only been here a little while.’

      ‘Well, I do need your mum to come in because we’ll have to ask her some questions about you and your general health—and she will need to register with us, too. Will you ask her to come when she feels up to it?’

      Victoria printed off a prescription for antibiotics and handed it to Evie. ‘Now, it’s very important that you take this medicine properly—the instructions will be printed on the side by the chemist and you must finish them all. What school do you go to, Evie?’

      ‘Braithwaite Comprehensive.’

      ‘Well, I should take today and tomorrow off—after that, if you feel well enough, go back to school. And one more thing. I’d like to see you next week and just check that everything’s all right. Make an appointment at Reception. Perhaps your mum would come with you next time—really it’s better if I see her as well.’

      The girl nodded, unsmiling. ‘I’ll come.’

      ‘You know, if your mother’s not well enough to come here, perhaps I could see her on a home visit…’

      Evie’s head jerked up and she said sharply, ‘No! No, she wouldn’t like that—I mean, she’s not all that ill.’

      Victoria frowned and looked gravely at Evie. ‘She does know you’ve come to see me, doesn’t she?’

      A slight flush spread over Evie’s cheeks, and there was a moment’s hesitation before she spoke. ‘Yes…yes, of course… but she trusts me to do things myself.’ Then she added abruptly, ‘Thank you for seeing me,’ and almost ran from the room.

      Victoria followed her and then went into the office to look out of the window as she retrieved her bike and disappeared down the road. There was something odd about this situation, something that didn’t add up, she thought uneasily. Why hadn’t the mother rung the surgery to say that her daughter was coming in, especially as they weren’t registered or known to the practice?

      She started to pour herself a coffee from the percolator, then looked again through the window—she could just see Evie cycling down the hill to the village. Connor came into the room behind her.

      ‘That coffee smells good,’ he said, joining her at the window. ‘What are you looking at?’

      ‘Can you see that girl on the bike?’ she asked. ‘I feel worried about her… She came by herself and I’m sure the mother’s unaware that she’s been here.’

      ‘What’s the matter with her?’

      ‘She’s got a badly infected throat,’ Victoria replied as she handed a cup of coffee to him, then added pensively, ‘And she wasn’t very forthcoming with information about her mother—didn’t want me to contact her.’

      ‘Why should she want to come secretly?’

      Victoria shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea—but I think I ought to pay the mother a visit—make sure things are OK.’

      He nodded and sipped his coffee. ‘Good idea. When in doubt, best to find out. By the way, don’t forget we’ve a meeting at the pub tonight—about seven o’clock?’

      ‘I haven’t forgotten.’ She sighed, her eyes following the vanishing figure of Evie Gelevska.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THE sunny weather of the morning had changed and now rain was lashing down. By the time Victoria had dashed across the road from where she’d parked her car to the Swinging Gate, she was soaked, her hair lying in bedraggled rats’ tails against her collar. She stepped into the dark cosy bar of the pub and looked across the room, dabbing her neck dry with her scarf.

      Connor was standing by the bar, talking to the landlord, but at that moment he turned round and saw her, surprised again when he looked across the room at the tall slender girl with the damp russet hair dripping onto her collar—nothing like the rather plump, bookish-looking schoolgirl he had known. The years had changed Victoria into a stunning, stylish woman.

      He pushed his way through a knot of people and looked at her with concern. ‘You look a bit wet… Go and get a table by the fire and dry out. What are you having, before we get started?’

      ‘White wine, please.’

      Victoria subsided into a chair and took off her coat, hanging it on the back of the chair. She watched as Connor made his way back with the drinks and sighed. He had a tough, no-nonsense look about him as he shouldered his large frame through the crowded bar, and she guessed he wouldn’t give way if there were any contentious issues to be discussed that night. She pressed her lips together—she could be just as stubborn as he could if she wanted, but she did so hope they could get through the evening without