ignored his remark and continued. ‘Mr Wetherby has chronic airway disease, very tachypnoeaic with widespread respiratory wheeze. I believe he should be admitted immediately for tests and therapy, but he’s adamant he won’t go until he has a second opinion, so…’
‘You’d like me to come and look at him?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Only too happy to oblige a colleague. Lead me to him.’
They went into Victoria’s room and she introduced Connor to the anxious-looking couple. ‘Dr Saunders will examine you, Mr Wetherby, and I know he’ll give an unbiased opinion on what should be the course of action,’ she explained.
‘Good morning, Mr and Mrs Wetherby.’ Connor gave them a charming smile and shook Dan’s hand, then drew up a chair to sit in front of them. ‘I believe you’ve been having some chest trouble. Dr Curtis tells me this has been worrying you for quite a while—am I right?’
His voice was kind and gentle, and the elderly couple, who had tensed noticeably as he’d come into the room, relaxed again. Victoria looked at him cynically. He could turn on the charm if he wanted to—his sympathetic manner showed a sensitivity she’d never experienced from him herself, she reflected.
Connor sat down in front of Dan, bending his head forward as he concentrated on the sounds coming through the stethoscope on the man’s chest. After a minute or two he looked up at Victoria.
‘Tachycardic and definite signs of consolidation at the left base,’ he murmured to her. Then added, ‘What was your advice?’
‘I think Mr Wetherby needs to go to hospital for immediate tests, nebulisers and intravenous antibiotics.’
Connor nodded and stood up, folding his arms judiciously. ‘I completely agree—no good pussyfooting around here.’ He looked at the old man and his wife. ‘Your chest is bad, and I can only see it getting worse, whatever we give you here. I think Dr Curtis has no alternative but to get you to St Hilda’s immediately.’ He added gently, to take the sting from his words, ‘You’ll feel so much better when you’ve had some treatment, believe me.’
Dan looked from one doctor to the other, then gave a sigh. ‘Well, nowt for it, then. If you both think I should go, I’ll have to do it. Mother, you’ll have to get our Barry down from his place to give us a hand with the milking.’
‘I’ll do that,’ promised his wife, ‘when I’ve got you to the hospital.’
‘I’m sending for an ambulance, Mrs Wetherby,’ said Victoria. ‘I want him to be started on oxygen as soon as possible, and the paramedics will give him that. Perhaps you’d like to follow him in your car.’ She picked up the phone. ‘I’ll also speak to the registrar on the chest ward—we want things to get moving as soon as possible.’
Suddenly the Wetherbys looked very vulnerable and bewildered—events had moved too quickly for them and they were in shock, gazing blankly at each other. Connor started to explain to them what was likely to happen in the hospital, his voice a low reassuring murmur. The phone calls over, Victoria looked at the trio for a minute. Connor was bending forward as he talked earnestly to them, encouraging them to ask any questions and giving them time to adjust to the situation. Quite an eye-opener, she thought. Connor had matured into the doctor with the perfect bedside manner!
‘The ambulance is on its way,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and meet them and fill in the paramedics on your condition, Mr Wetherby.’
In ten minutes the patient was on his way to St Hilda’s. Susan started crying as he was taken out to the ambulance and turned to the two doctors waiting by her side.
‘He’s very ill, isn’t he?’ she said softly. ‘I’ve known it for some time now—and I think he has, too—but we were both too frightened of the truth to do anything about it. How stupid we’ve been.’
‘No, you haven’t,’ soothed Victoria. ‘Lots of people find it hard to admit they need help. Look,’ she added, ‘let me give you a lift to the hospital—I don’t think you should be driving after a shock like this.’
Susan shook her head and dried her eyes. ‘No, no. I’ll be all right. I’ll go round by my son’s place and he can come with me—he works from home so I know he’ll be there.’
She got in the car and then wound down the window, looking up at Victoria and Connor. ‘Thank you, you’ve both been very kind and I’m so grateful.’ She smiled at them. ‘You know it’s like seeing a young Dr Sorensen and Dr Saunders when I look at the two of you—you’re both so like your parents. They were lovely doctors in the community, and it’s so comforting to know that you’re carrying on now they’ve retired.’
They watched as she drove out of the car park and Victoria murmured, ‘A nice woman… She must have been so worried about her husband. It’s amazing how some people have the capacity to carry on and ignore what’s happening to them. He must have felt terrible for a long time.’ She turned towards Connor and said with an effort at courtesy, ‘Thanks for backing me up there—he’s quite a stubborn old boy.’
‘No question about it—he needs immediate treatment.’
They turned and went back towards the surgery, the autumn sun warm on their backs. Connor stopped for a moment and looked back at the valley in front of the house, the ploughed fields reflecting the shadows of the clouds as they drifted across the sky.
‘It’s a beautiful part of the world,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten how lovely it was. My father was right about the surgery being in such an idyllic place.’
‘Yes, and it all looks much the same as it did before I left some years ago. The stable block of Mum’s house had just been converted into the medical centre then…’ Almost absently Victoria added, ‘Hard to believe such a lot has happened since.’
He looked at her with raised brows. ‘Such as?’
She gave a short dismissive laugh. ‘Oh, it’s water under the bridge now.’
‘Quite right, Freckles. Look forward.’
She frowned. ‘I’ve told you, don’t call me that.’
‘Sorry…can’t get out of the habit somehow.’ He kicked a stone away from under his foot and glanced at her with a wry smile. ‘Funny that we should end up together in this practice, isn’t it? There was always a bit of rivalry between us in the old days—you probably never dreamt that our paths would cross again.’
‘No,’ agreed Victoria shortly. ‘It certainly wasn’t in my life plan.’
‘We’ll have to learn to work in harness together now.’
‘I suppose so…’
‘Perhaps,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘we could put on an act.’
‘What do you mean, an act?’
He gave a short laugh. ‘It’s obvious, my dear Victoria, that you’re not too keen about working with me.’ He looked at her steadily. ‘Perhaps you’ve good reason… I know I was a brat at school.’
Victoria was startled—he’d actually admitted he’d treated her badly! That was something, she supposed—a kind of apology.
‘It was a long time ago,’ she murmured.
‘What I mean is that if we pretend that we rub along OK, we might actually find we do! After all, we could have quite a nice life here. We each have good homes to live in that our parents have vacated, even if it is short term—it just needs a bit of give and take on both sides, I reckon.’
His clear blue eyes held hers questioningly and Victoria suddenly felt rather flustered, as if a switch had been thrown to register a mixture of excitement and danger. She looked at him in confusion. For so long she’d thought of him with dislike, the memory of that dance assuming more importance than it warranted,