The Police Surgeon's Rescue

So it was only the waif-and-stray treatment she was getting, Helena thought wryly. Within his pledge to protect the living while in police care and help bring justice for those who had met their ends through foul play, he was doing his best for another lost sheep…herself. And she wasn’t sure that was how she wanted it to be. He was seeing her at her worst. Lost, weepy and floundering.

When this was over she would have to show him that there was another side to her. That she was her own person, independent, resilient and a good nurse. Suddenly it was vital that Blake should have a good opinion of her, and he was offering her the chance to do something towards that end by taking her on at the practice.

With spirits lifting at the thought, she watched him go down the drive. When he reached his own front door he turned and waved, and as she waved back Helena knew she wanted him to be more than just someone who had befriended her in a time of trouble.

* * *

When Blake announced at the beginning of surgery the next morning that he’d found a replacement for the practice nurse who was leaving, Darren said, ‘Great stuff. What’s she like? Nice-looking, I hope.’

Blake didn’t reply. His glance was on Maxine and he knew what was coming next.

‘And where have you so conveniently found a nurse at such short notice?’ she wanted to know.

‘You’ve already met her briefly,’ he said with bland pleasantness. ‘The woman who has just lost her father, Helena Harris. You saw her the other night when you called.’ Before she could interrupt he went on, ‘She’s been nursing in Australia for the last twelve months and had no sooner come home than her father died.’

‘Then it was obviously her lucky day when she met you, Blake,’ Maxine said frostily. ‘Don’t you think you’re rather overdoing the good-neighbour bit? First of all you have her staying with you and then you’re suggesting bringing her into the practice.’

‘None of us know when we may need a friend,’ he told her, without raising his voice. ‘It might happen to you one day, Maxine.’

‘That could be a bit tricky,’ Darren said, and found her cold gaze transferred to himself.

‘Helena is coming in to meet everyone at the end of morning surgery, so you’ll both be able to have a chat with her then. In the meantime, we have patients waiting to be seen,’ Blake said, ignoring the ever-present sparring between the two.

He’d anticipated a cool reception when Maxine heard of his plans and that Darren would be his usual flippant self. But he wasn’t all that bothered about either of their reactions. If he discovered he’d made a mistake by offering Helena a job at the practice, he would take the blame.

He had other concerns regarding her and the main one was that after going out of his way to befriend her, he’d sent out conflicting signals the night before by inferring that he wasn’t expecting anything permanent to come of their acquaintance when all the time she was never out of his thoughts.

Was he so out of touch with the chemistry between the sexes that he felt the need to put up fences when it appeared from an unexpected source? he’d asked himself during a restless night.

As someone who never did anything by halves, his love for Anna had been deep and strong. In the three years since her death he’d had no yearnings towards any other woman. Certainly not Maxine.

Then out of the blue had come a young nurse with beautiful green eyes and russet hair. She was getting to him as no other woman had, and what was he doing? Encouraging the relationship one moment and the next stepping back from it.

But the folks in the waiting room had their problems, too, and he was about to be confronted by them.

Amongst them was a middle-aged woman suffering from blackouts for no apparent reason. Being the kind of patient loth to bring her concerns into the open, she’d been slow to seek a consultation, but after having hurt herself quite badly from the last fall she’d been persuaded to seek help.

There were no signs of high blood pressure. It was rather low if anything. An examination of her eyes indicated no problems there. She wasn’t suffering from headaches. In every way she seemed to be in good health, though obviously she wasn’t. Blackouts were not something to be ignored and he referred her to the neurology department at the hospital.

A woman in her twenties followed her into his consulting room. She had digestive problems that he’d felt were cause for alarm and he’d sent her to hospital for tests. The results were now back.

They weren’t exactly life-threatening but they were not good. Dark eyes in a thin face were watching him apprehensively from the other side of the desk and, always reluctant to put the blight on the lives of the young, he gave her a sympathetic smile.

‘It is what I thought it might be, Samantha,’ he told her. ‘Coeliac disease or gluten enteropathy as it’s sometimes known. The type of biopsy they gave you at the hospital shows that you have a gluten problem. A failure to absorb the nutrients from wheat, rye, and other cereals.

‘All the unpleasant things that have been happening to you are the result of the illness. The anaemia, skin problems, poor bowel functioning and the rest should gradually disappear once you’re on a gluten-free diet.

‘With all other foods you should have no problem, but it will be essential to keep off wheat products. Other tests will follow to make sure that the diet is working, but I think that very soon you’re going to feel much better.’

‘So I’m not going to die?’ she breathed, with the beginning of a smile.

‘No, you’re not,’ he said gently. ‘You’ve had a worrying and distressing time but we’re going to put you on the right track. The nurse will give you diet sheets and will answer any questions you might have regarding food.’

She was getting to her feet and as he observed her pallor and weight loss Blake thought, poor girl. She was so frail. Hopefully by the next time he saw her she might have filled out a little and have some colour in her cheeks.

* * *

As Helena hesitated beside Reception at twelve o’clock, a cool voice said from behind her, ‘And you are?’

When she swung round the woman who’d called at Blake’s house the other night was observing her as if she were something best seen under a microscope.

‘I’m Helena Harris,’ she said levelly. ‘Dr Pemberton is expecting me. He’s offered me the position of practice nurse and invited me to come in to meet the staff.’

‘Really. Well, he must have forgotten as Dr Pemberton is not on the premises.’

‘Has he been called out perhaps?’ Helena asked in the same even tone.

‘I’m sure I don’t know. You’ll have to come back some other time,’ she was told.

‘Yes. I can do that,’ she agreed equably. ‘Time is something that I have in abundance at the moment.’

‘I think there’s been a mistake, Dr Fielding,’ another voice said at that moment, and Helena saw a fair-haired man, younger than Blake, eyeing her appreciatively from the doorway.

‘Dr Pemberton received a call from the police station just as surgery was finishing,’ he said with a winning smile that showed a lot of white teeth. ‘He left a message to say that he would be back as soon as possible and for you to make yourself at home while you’re waiting. My name is Darren Scott. I’m the junior partner here and I volunteered to look after you until he gets back.’

‘And in the meantime everything goes to pot, does it?’ the unwelcoming Maxine said.

‘Surely, not with you around, Dr Fielding,’ he said, and Helena knew what Blake had meant when he’d said that these two weren’t the best of friends.

‘There is no need for you to look after me,’ she told him. ‘As Dr Fielding has suggested, I can come back another time.’

She was beginning to wish she hadn’t come at all. The last thing she’d expected was that Blake wouldn’t be there. Obviously it had been unavoidable, but five minutes with Maxine Fielding had damped her enthusiasm somewhat.

‘Dr Pemberton wouldn’t like that,’ Darren insisted. ‘He was most emphatic that you were made welcome. If you’d like to come this way I’ll introduce you to Jane Benyon, the other practice nurse. She’s been here for years and will be only too happy to show you the ropes. She’s the person you’ll be working with most. Then there’s the practice manager, Beverley, who keeps us all in order and tells us off if we prescribe drugs that are too expensive.’

This was better, Helena thought as she met the rest of the staff. Jane Benyon looked as if she was climbing up to retiring age. She had a kind smile and twinkly blue eyes. Beverley Martin, in her late forties, was a smart type in a suit, with dark hair in a short stylish cut and a brisk manner that indicated a person who got things done. The three receptionists were all friendly and by the time they’d done the rounds Maxine’s hostility was fading.

* * *

When the call had come through from the police Blake had given an exasperated sigh. It had been the worst possible moment. Helena had been due to arrive any time, but he hadn’t been able to refuse.

A prisoner had been brought into the station with facial cuts and bruises and showing signs of concussion. There was some concern as to how his injuries had occurred, but that was for the authorities to sort out. They needed him there to determine the seriousness of his condition and to advise if hospital treatment was required.

On examining the man, he decided that it was. He was confused. His pupils were dilated and his head was beginning to swell. It seemed that he had attacked someone in the street and had either got more than he’d bargained for or had received rough handling from those who’d arrested him.

Blake was impatient to get back to the practice and when the ambulance had taken the injured man to Accident and Emergency he avoided the chat that the station sergeant would have liked to have had by excusing himself with the explanation that he had someone waiting to see him.

As he drove back to the practice he was hoping that he wasn’t being too presumptuous, that Helena wouldn’t have been offended by his absence and would be there, waiting.

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