surgery at St Leona’s in London; retrained as a GP the previous year…
She looked up, wondering not for the first time why he’d decided to quit surgery. He’d stated in his application that it had been “for personal reasons”, although she had no idea what that meant. Maybe it was time she found out.
‘There is no point me asking you the usual questions I’ve asked a lot of the other candidates, Dr Cole.’ She glanced at his application and shrugged. ‘It’s obvious from this that you have a great deal of experience so what interests me most is why you decided to leave surgery and retrain at this stage in your career.’
‘As I explained in my application, my reasons were personal ones. Surgery is a very demanding discipline and it involves long and very irregular hours. At the present time I need a job that will provide me with a little more stability in my life.’
His grey eyes met hers calmly across the desk but she could see a nerve ticking in his jaw and realised with a jolt that his composure wasn’t as solid as she’d imagined it to be. For some reason the discovery made her want to reassure him that he had nothing to worry about, only there was no way she could do that.
Helen sat up straighter, annoyed with herself for ignoring her own sage advice about not letting herself become emotionally involved. Lewis Cole was just another candidate and she mustn’t allow herself to be swayed by the thought that she might be able to make his life a little easier by offering him the job.
‘So you believe that general practice is an easier option than surgery?’ she asked, allowing a hint of scepticism to creep into her voice.
‘Not easier, no. Just more…predictable.’
‘Predictable?’ Helen tipped back her head and laughed. It was the funniest answer she’d heard all week.
‘Obviously, I’ve said something to amuse you, Dr Daniels.’
The deep voice was colder now, stern, too, and her laughter immediately dried up. ‘I laughed more in astonishment than amusement, actually. General practice is never predictable, as you’ll find out for yourself if you secure a position as a GP.’
She allowed that to sink in, feeling a bit mean about slipping the doubt into the conversation, although maybe she was doing him a favour. After all, there was no guarantee that he would get this job, or any other for that matter.
The thought of his potential disappointment was upsetting for some reason and she hurried on. ‘You never know what’s going to happen from one minute to the next. Every time a patient walks through the door, you have to be prepared to deal with whatever they throw at you.’
She glanced at his application again then looked up, expecting to see some sign of emotion on his face, but his expression was completely blank now, as though he was deliberately hiding his feelings from her.
It was unsettling to wonder what was going on inside his head but Helen refused to dwell on it as she continued in the same no-nonsense tone. ‘It’s not all colds and heartburn in general practice. We have many patients at The Beeches who have very complex needs and we make sure they all receive the highest standard of care.’
‘It’s good to know that,’ he said quietly. ‘And I apologise if you thought I was being flippant. I’m certainly not dismissive of general practice work otherwise I wouldn’t have chosen to become a GP myself.’
There was no doubting his sincerity. Helen felt a little heat run through her veins as she realised that she probably deserved the rebuke. She experienced a sudden urge to apologise to him before it struck her that the whole reason for this interview was so she could ask him questions like that. She took a quick breath, determined not to let herself get sidetracked again.
‘The Beeches is a very busy practice. We have over three thousand patients on our books and we cover a large area of the surrounding countryside as well as the town. Whoever is appointed to this post will be a highly visible member of the local community.’
‘I don’t have a problem with that.’ He shrugged, his broad shoulders moving lightly under the expensively tailored jacket. ‘It will make a refreshing change after living in London all my adult life, in fact.’
‘Good,’ she said firmly, pleased to have got back onto familiar territory. So long as she stuck to the demands of the job, there wouldn’t be a problem with this interview. ‘Ian was very keen to ensure that The Beeches would continue to be at the heart of any local activities.’
‘Ian?’ he interjected.
‘My husband.’ Helen paused, wondering why she felt so uncomfortable about explaining her marital status. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t had enough time to get over Ian’s death but she felt…odd about having to explain to Lewis Cole that she was a widow. However, there really was no way that she could avoid it.
‘Ian died two years ago of a heart attack. It was a shock because he’d always been extremely fit.’ She hurried on, knowing it would be easier to tell him all the details in one fell swoop. ‘I took over the practice after his death and I’ve tried to carry on running it in a way that Ian and his father would have approved of. Ian’s father founded The Beeches,’ she added. ‘Summerfield didn’t have a doctor’s surgery until then.’
‘It must be very difficult for you.’
Helen felt her heart squeeze in an extra beat when she glimpsed a hint of compassion in his eyes. It made her feel very strange to know that he sympathised with her, although she couldn’t allow it to affect her judgement. ‘Being a widow doesn’t affect my work,’ she said sharply.
‘I wasn’t referring to that. I meant that it must be difficult to maintain someone else’s standards. Most people prefer to do things their own way, in my experience.’
She blinked in surprise. Although she would never have admitted it, sometimes she did grow weary of the continual demands that were placed upon her. Living up to Ian’s expectations these last two years hadn’t been easy. Several times she’d been tempted to adopt a simpler approach but she’d always held back because she hadn’t wanted to overrule her late husband’s wishes. To have that very fact pointed out to her by this stranger made a lump come to her throat all of a sudden.
‘I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place to make such an observation.’
She wasn’t sure if Lewis Cole had noticed her emotionally charged state and didn’t stop to wonder about it. She couldn’t afford to get embroiled in that kind of pointless exercise. She picked up his application again, hoping he would have the sensitivity not to pursue the subject.
‘I see that you studied medicine at Oxford.’
‘That’s right. After that I did a stint at Guy’s—the usual house officer nightmare of being shunted around from pillar to post—before I opted for surgery.’
‘What made you decide to specialise in gastrointestinal surgery?’ she asked, slipping in the question as soon as he’d finished speaking because it seemed wiser to fill all the time that she’d allotted for this interview with questions.
She shot a surreptitious glance at the clock and sighed in relief when she saw that ten minutes had passed. After another ten minutes she would be able to wind up the interview without appearing too hasty. She should be able to manage ten more minutes of Lewis Cole’s company….
Or ten more years, an insidious little voice whispered inside her head. Couldn’t she just imagine them working side by side in the surgery for years to come? Or, better still, spending time together outside work?
Appalled by the way her mind seemed to be behaving that day, Helen rushed on before he’d had a chance to answer her question. ‘It’s one of the less glamorous specialities, isn’t it?’
‘I didn’t go into surgery for the glamour of the job.’ His tone was flat but she could sense him bridling and inwardly groaned because now she would have to apologise.
‘I’m