The Italian's New-Year Marriage Wish (4 page)

She'd needed him to be unskilled and insensitive.

It would have made everything so much easier.

As it was, just ten minutes in his company had confirmed her biggest dread. That two years of self-enforced absence had made no difference to her feelings. She would love Marco Avanti until she took her dying breath.

 

Marco picked up the phone and spoke to the paediatrician at the hospital, keeping one eye on Michelle. He was concerned that her breathing didn't seem to be improving as much as he would have liked.

Had he missed something?

Was there something else he should have done?

He didn't usually have reason to question his medical skills but neither was he usually expected to handle an emergency while dealing with the unexpected appearance of his wife. Or was she now an ex-wife? It was obvious that she considered their relationship dead. And so had he. Until she'd walked into the room and asked for a divorce.

Seriously unsettled for the first time in his adult life, he ground his teeth, under no illusions that his concentration had been severely tested by Amy's sudden and unannounced arrival. Given that she clearly had no intention of leaving until she'd said what she'd come to say, he needed to somehow forget that she was there.

Forcing his mind back to Michelle, he ended the phone call and then mentally ran through the algorithm for handling an acute asthma attack in a toddler and assured himself that he'd done everything that should be done.

The child needed to be in hospital. And his wife was watching him, waiting for the right moment to ask him for a divorce.

Why now? Why did she have to pick what must be the busiest week of the year? And not only that, but they were a doctor down. He didn't have the time to argue with her. Their relationship was in its death throes and he didn't have the time to try and save it.

Which had presumably been her intention. Why else would she have picked this particular moment out of all the moments that might have presented themselves over the past two years? Was she hoping that the pressures of work would make him easier on her?

Was she hoping that he'd just sign on the dotted line and sever all ties? Kill everything they'd ever shared?

The door opened and Kate bustled in. ‘Carol, your husband redirected the ambulance and he's holding on right now on the phone. I have a paramedic in Reception, wanting to know
if they're still needed. Are you planning to send Michelle to the hospital, Dr Avanti?'

Carol looked at Marco. ‘You really think she should go in?'

Pushing aside his own problems, Marco gave a decisive nod. ‘Definitely. I called the paediatrician and she's expecting Michelle. They'll admit her overnight, monitor her breathing and then assess her in the morning. We might need to change her medication. I'll speak to her once she's had a chance to examine Michelle.'

Carol closed her eyes briefly. ‘It's so hard,' she whispered. ‘She's so tiny and it's so, so scary. Worry, worry, worry, that's all I seem to do. I just want her to live a normal life and be like any other toddler. What's going to happen when she goes to school?'

‘Carol, I know that you're worried but you have to take it one step at a time—isn't that the phrase you English use?' He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle. ‘I will discuss her management with the hospital and you and I will watch her and see how she goes as winter progresses. And if, from time to time, she has a few problems then we will deal with those problems together. We are a team. If you have a worry, you make an appointment to see me and we sort it out. And soon we will find time to talk about your Lizzie.'

Carol's eyes filled and she bit her lip. ‘Don't be kind because you'll make me cry.' She pressed a hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry. You must think I'm such an idiot.'

‘I think you're a loving mother who is tired and worried,' Marco said quietly, his gaze flicking to Michelle. An uneasy feeling stirred inside him. The little girl was pale and her respiratory rate was more rapid than he would have liked. Making a swift decision, he looked at Kate. ‘I want to go in the ambulance with her.'

The practice manager didn't manage to hide her dismay. ‘You're leaving in the middle of your surgery?'

Aware that Carol was listening, Marco tried humour. ‘Not in the middle,' he drawled, reaching for his bag. ‘I haven't actually started yet.'

Kate shook her head, despair in her voice. ‘Marco, we have patients queuing halfway back to the next county. Dr Tremayne and Dr Lovak are already seeing patients and with Lucy gone—'

‘We have a sick child here who needs my care,' Marco reminded her softly, dropping a bronchodilator into his bag.

Kate gave him a desperate look and then sighed. ‘Of course. Go with Michelle. That has to be the priority. We'll manage here. Somehow.'

Carol glanced between them, her expression guilty. ‘I'm
really
sorry.'

‘You have no reason to be sorry,' Marco said swiftly. ‘In this practice each patient gets the attention they need when they most need it. The patients will not mind because they know that next time it could be them.'

Judging from the expression on Kate's face she wasn't convinced and Marco thought for a moment, aware that he was leaving her and the receptionists to cope alone with the flak from the patients. His gaze settled on Amy, who stood in the corner of his consulting room, looking awkward and out of place. ‘Amy can take the rest of my surgery. That will save Nick and Dragan having to see extra patients.'

Judging from her shocked expression he might as well have suggested that she run naked along the harbour wall. ‘I—
Me
?'

‘Yes, you. You're a qualified GP.' He added a few more bits to his bag. ‘You happen to have arrived when we're in crisis. I'm sure you won't mind helping out.'

‘But—'

‘What a brilliant idea! That would be fantastic,' Kate enthused, her relief evident as she ushered Carol towards the door, catching the pink blanket before it slid to the floor. ‘I'll
help Carol and Michelle into the ambulance while you pack what you need, Marco. Join us when you're ready. Then I'll come back and brief you, Amy. You can use Lucy's consulting room.'

Amy's expression was close to panic. ‘But I'm not staying—' The door closed behind Kate and Amy flinched and turned to Marco, her hands spread in a silent plea. ‘Marco, this is ridiculous. I just need to talk to you for five minutes, that's all.'

‘As you can clearly see, I don't have five minutes. I don't have one minute. I can't talk to you until the patients have been seen.' Strengthened by the prospect of a brief respite before the inevitable confrontation, Marco snapped his bag shut with a force that threatened the lock. ‘If you want to talk to me, help with surgery. Then perhaps I'll find time to talk to you.'

‘But—'

He lifted the bag. ‘That's my price for a conversation.'

‘We
have
to talk, you know we do.' She wrapped her arms around her waist and then let them drop to her sides and gave a sigh. ‘You don't leave me with much choice.'

‘About as much choice as you gave me when you walked away from our relationship.' He glanced out of the window, remembered the snow and reached for his coat. Suddenly he couldn't wait to put distance between them. He was angry with her.
And angry with himself for still caring so much after two years.
He needed space. Needed perspective. He needed to work out what he was going to do. ‘It's non-negotiable, Amy. If you want to talk to me, stay and do the surgery. When the patients have been seen, I might find time to listen to you.'

 

‘If you can't find anything, just let me know.' Kate threw open a few more cupboards and waved a hand vaguely. ‘Everything you're likely to need should be here. And if you need any
inside information on the patients, Nick should be able to help. Press 2 on your phone and you're straight through to him.'

Nick Tremayne, the senior partner. Although he was a good friend of Marco's, Amy had always found him more than a little intimidating.

What would he think of her being there? Just after she'd left Marco, Nick himself had suffered tragedy when his wife, Annabel, had died suddenly.

‘How is Nick? I was so shocked when I received your letter telling me the news.'

‘Yes.' Kate slipped a pile of blank prescriptions into the printer, her face expressionless. ‘We were all shocked. I thought you ought to know, although finding an address for you was a nightmare. Even the medical charity you were working for didn't seem able to guarantee that they could get it to you.'

‘I was moving around. It took about six months to catch up with me.' Amy sank into the chair, remembering how awful she'd felt when she'd read the news. ‘I wrote to him. Just a card. Is he—is he doing all right?'

Kate reached for a pen from the holder on the desk. ‘I suppose so. He just carries on. Doesn't give much away. Lucy's baby will help, I suppose. They've called her Annabel.'

‘Oh, that's lovely,' Amy said softly. ‘I bumped into Tony earlier. He said the baby was premature?'

‘Yes, she was born a few weeks early but she's doing fine by all accounts. Still in Special Care but once they're happy with her feeding, she should be home.'

‘And Nick—has he met anyone else?'

The pen that Kate was holding slipped to the floor. ‘He dates plenty of people.' She stooped and picked up the pen, her voice slightly muffled. ‘But I don't think any of them are serious. Are you ready? I'll send in your first patient.'

Amy slid a hand over the desk and looked at the computer, feeling as though she was on a runaway train. She'd come to
talk to Marco and here she was sitting in a consulting room, preparing to take a surgery. What had happened to her ability to say no? ‘How many patients?'

‘You don't want to know but let's just say that Marco is a very, very popular doctor around here. If Dragan Lovak gets any cancellations, I'll send a few his way.' Kate smiled. ‘This is so kind of you, Amy. We really appreciate it. I've been trying unsuccessfully to find locum cover for the past few weeks but no one wants to spend Christmas and New Year in freezing Cornwall at short notice. You're a lifesaver.'

A lifesaver? Amy bit back a hysterical laugh. She didn't feel like a lifesaver. She felt like the one who was drowning. ‘I'm not sure how much use I'll be. I won't know any of the patients.' She felt a brief flutter of anxiety. During her time in Africa, her focus had been on tropical diseases. Was she capable of running a busy surgery?

‘You're a qualified doctor. That makes you of use.' Kate leaned across and flicked on the computer on her desk. ‘Hit this key to get everything up on the computer. You'll be fine. You've been working in deepest Africa for the past two years so the problems of a little Cornish town should seem like a walk in the park by comparison.'

Suddenly she craved Africa.
Craved distance from Marco.
Amy closed her eyes briefly and tried not to think about what was going to happen when he returned. It was clear that there was no way the conversation was going to be easy. ‘Kate, how do I call the patients?'

‘There's a buzzer right there.' Kate moved a pile of papers. ‘List of hospital consultants in your top drawer, just in case you need to refer anyone.'

Amy watched her go and then reached out and pressed the buzzer before she could change her mind. She squashed down a flicker of anxiety and smiled as her first patient was walking into the room.

‘Hello, Mrs…' Amy checked the screen quickly ‘…Duncan.
Dr Avanti has had an emergency trip to the hospital with a child so I'm covering his surgery. How can I help you?'

‘I've been feeling rotten for a couple of days. Since Christmas Day, I suppose.' Paula Duncan sank onto the chair and let her handbag slip to the floor. ‘I assumed it was the flu or something—there's so much of it around. I wasn't even going to bother making an appointment but this morning my head started hurting and I've had this numbness and tingling around my right eye.'

Amy stood up, her attention caught. ‘How long have you had that rash on your nose?'

‘I woke up with it. Lovely, isn't it?' Mrs Duncan lifted a hand to her face and gave a weary laugh. ‘On top of everything else, I have to look like a clown. I can throw away the dress I bought for the New Year's Eve party, that's for sure. Unless the Penhally Arms decide to turn it into a masked ball.'

Amy examined the rash carefully and remembered seeing a patient with a similar rash in one of her clinics in Africa. ‘It started this morning?'

‘Yes. Just when you think life can't get any worse, it gets worse.'

Thinking of her own situation, Amy gave a faint smile. ‘I know what you mean.'

‘If I wasn't in so much pain I'd be really embarrassed to be seen out but I don't even care any more. I just hope there's something you can do. I have no idea where the rash has come from. I spent Christmas on my own so I can't imagine that I've caught anything.'

Amy washed her hands and sat back down at her desk. ‘The rash suggests to me that you have ophthalmic shingles, Mrs Duncan. I'm going to send you up to the hospital to see the ophthalmologist—an eye doctor.'

‘Shingles?' The woman stared at her. ‘That's like chickenpox, isn't it? And in my eye? Surely that isn't possible.'

‘I'm afraid it's entirely possible.' Amy opened the drawer
and pulled out the list of consultants that Kate had mentioned. She'd had no idea that she'd be using it so soon. ‘It's caused by the same virus.'

‘So I
must
have been in contact with someone with chickenpox? But who? I don't even know any small children!'