Читать книгу: «The Brooding Doc's Redemption»
Dear Reader
This is a story about forgiveness, and how love can give you a second chance.
GP Laurie thinks she’s settled and has the perfect life with her daughter and her dog in a little country town—but she’s missing something. And Marc needs to forgive himself for the past before he can move on and learn to be happy again.
Working together on a project to help their patients means they’re thrown into each other’s company—and, although neither intended to fall in love, that’s exactly what they end up doing. But it takes a shock for them both to overcome their pasts and admit it …
This book’s set in my part of the world, and I can honestly say that the bluebell woods Marc and Laurie visit are even more magical in real life. It’s definitely one of the most romantic places in the world, and I’m lucky in that my research assistants are always happy to come with me. (Except the dog, because sadly dogs aren’t allowed—otherwise he’d be there, wagging his tail alongside us.)
I’m always delighted to hear from readers, so do come and visit me at www.katehardy.com
With love
Kate Hardy
About the Author
KATE HARDY lives in Norwich, in the east of England, with her husband, two young children, one bouncy spaniel, and too many books to count! When she’s not busy writing romance or researching local history, she helps out at her children’s schools. She also loves cooking—spot the recipes sneaked into her books! (They’re also on her website, along with extracts and stories behind the books.)
Writing for Mills & Boon has been a dream come true for Kate—something she wanted to do ever since she was twelve. She’s been writing Medical Romances™ for over ten years. She says it’s the best of both worlds, because she gets to learn lots of new things when she’s researching the background to a book: add a touch of passion, drama and danger, a new gorgeous hero every time, and it’s the perfect job!
SCARLET WILSON wrote her first story aged eight and has never stopped. Her family have fond memories of Shirley and the Magic Purse, with its army of mice, all with names beginning with the letter ‘M’. An avid reader Scarlet started with every Enid Blyton book, moved on to the Chalet School series and many years later found Mills & Boon.
She trained and worked as a nurse and health visitor and currently works in public health. For her, finding Medical Romances™ was a match made in heaven. She is delighted to find herself among the authors she has read for many years.
Scarlet lives on the West Coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons.
Also by Kate Hardy in Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™:
ONCE A PLAYBOY …
DR CINDERELLA’S MIDNIGHT FLING
ITALIAN DOCTOR, NO STRINGS ATTACHED
ST PIRAN’S: THE FIREMAN AND NURSE LOVEDAY
(St Piran’s Hospital)
And in Mills & Boon Modern™ Romance:
THE HIDDEN HEART OF RICO ROSSI
THE EX WHO HIRED HER
A MOMENT ON THE LIPS
These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk
The Brooding Doc’s Redemption
Kate Hardy
MILLS & BOON
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To Maggie Kingsley and Margaret McDonagh—in loving memory of dear friends who were taken too young.
CHAPTER ONE
THIS was ridiculous. Anyone would think that Marc was five years old and about to start his first day at school, not thirty-five and about to start his first day as a GP at Pond Lane Surgery.
He shook himself. There was absolutely no reason for him to be nervous. If Sam, the senior partner at the practice, hadn’t thought that Marc would fit into the team, he wouldn’t have offered him the job. Marc had spent ten years working in a busy practice in London. Working in a sleepy country town would be different, but he’d wanted different. Something to help him leave the memories behind.
He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The middle-aged woman at the reception desk smiled at him. ‘It’s a bit early for appointments, I’m afraid. We’re not quite open yet.’
‘I’m not actually here for an appointment,’ he explained. ‘My name’s Marc Bailey.’
‘Oh, our new GP! Welcome to the practice.’ She shook his hand. ‘I’m Phyllis—well, obviously I’m the receptionist. Sam’s expecting you. I’ll take you through to his office.’
A friendly face on Reception was a good start. Hopefully the rest of the day would match up to it.
Phyllis rapped on the open door. ‘Sam? Marc Bailey’s here.’ She smiled at Marc. ‘I’ll leave you to it. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.’
‘Thank you.’
Sam shook his hand warmly. ‘Welcome to Pond Lane. I hope you don’t mind, Marc, but I’d like you to work with Dr Grant for the first half of the morning. I know you’re perfectly capable of settling in by yourself, but it always helps to have someone teach you the horrible little quirks of a computer system that’s new to you.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Marc wondered where this was leading. Was having someone shadowing him his new boss’s way of making sure that he’d made the right decision in offering Marc the job?
‘And you’ll be helping her at the same time. Laurie works part time at the surgery. She’s halfway through qualifying as a GP trainer, and it’ll be useful for her to sit in on consultations with someone she hasn’t worked with before.’
Marc gave him a wry smile. ‘It’s been a while since someone observed me in a consultation.’
‘Laurie won’t bite. She’s a sweetie, and she makes the best lemon cake ever,’ Sam said with a chuckle.
‘Right.’ Marc imagined a doctor in her mid-forties, the motherly type, who wanted to enrich her career by teaching new doctors.
‘Oh, and I should warn you—she has this pet project. Given your experience in sports medicine, she might ask you to help out.’
Marc wasn’t sure whether to be more intrigued or concerned. ‘Noted,’ he said.
‘I’ll take you through to Laurie.’ Sam shepherded him through to Laurie’s room. ‘Marc, this is Laurie Grant. Laurie, this is Marc Bailey, our new GP.’ He patted Marc’s shoulder. ‘I’ll leave you to sort things out between you.’
‘OK.’
Laurie was nothing like Marc had expected. She was in her early thirties, a couple of years younger than himself, he’d guess, but what he really noticed were the dark corkscrew curls she’d pulled back in a scrunchie, her piercing blue eyes, and the sweetest-looking mouth he’d ever seen.
Which was terrible. He shouldn’t even be noticing this sort of thing about her. She was his new colleague, and for all he knew she could be married.
Worse still, he found himself actually glancing at her left hand, to check.
No ring. Not that that meant anything.
She didn’t seem to notice, and simply held out her hand to shake his. ‘Welcome to Pond Lane, Marc.’
When his palm touched hers, it felt like an electric shock.
This really couldn’t be happening.
But either it wasn’t the same for her, or she was a bit better than he was at ignoring the zing of attraction, because she said, ‘It’s really good of you to let me sit in on consultations with you this morning, especially as it’s your first day here. Leigh, the practice manager, is off today, but she left me all the details so I can set you up on the computer.’ She laughed. ‘Sam has this mad idea that because I’m the youngest doctor in the practice, it means I’m the one who’s best with computers.’
‘Are you?’ Marc asked.
‘Only because my brother’s a computer consultant and taught me a lot, to stop me ringing him up and wailing down the phone to him every time I got stuck when I was a student,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Shall we grab a coffee, then go to your room and make a start?’
‘Sure.’ Marc found himself warming to her. She was efficient and bubbly, with an overlay of common sense: it was a good combination, and he’d just bet her patients adored her.
They headed for the staff kitchen, and Laurie switched the kettle on. ‘Do you prefer tea or coffee?’
‘Coffee’s great, thanks.’ Instant coffee, he noticed. A couple of years ago, he would’ve been a bit sniffy and insisted on bringing in a cafetière and a special blend of ground beans; and his suit for work would’ve been a designer label, his shirts hand-made. Nowadays, he knew there were more important things in life. And how he wished he’d been less shallow when he’d been younger. That he’d appreciated what he’d had.
‘Milk or sugar?’ she asked.
‘Just as it is for me, thanks.’
She added a large slug of milk to her own mug, then shepherded him to his consulting room. Which looked incredibly bare: the only hint of colour was the plant on the windowsill. Compared to hers, which had had a child’s paintings on the walls and framed photographs on her desk, the room looked impersonal and slightly daunting.
He’d have to change that, to help put his patients at ease. Though, even if all his photos hadn’t been packed away, he couldn’t quite face putting a photograph on his desk. This was a new start for him. No memories.
There was also a state-of-the-art computer on his desk, he noticed.
‘It’s probably very similar to the system you used before, but this one does have a couple of quirks.’ She switched it on, and fished a note out of the file she carried. ‘This is your username and password.’
And he noticed that when she talked him through the system, she let him press the keys rather than rattling through it and expecting him to watch what she did and take it all in. ‘You’re very good at this teaching stuff.’
‘Thank you. It’s something I like doing.’
‘Is that why you’re doing GP training?’
She nodded. ‘Sam believes in job enrichment. Ricky—have you met Ricky yet?’ At his shake of the head, she said, ‘He’s not in today, but he has ALS training. We all have our special interests. One of my friends suggested being a GP trainer, because I was always good at explaining things when I was helping others revise for exams. I looked into it and talked to Sam, and an opportunity came up last year to start a course. It means fitting things about a bit—I’m at the university one morning a week in term-time—and my hours are a bit odd, but I’m enjoying it.’
‘Sounds good.’
Marc had a lovely voice, and Laurie hoped his manner with patients lived up to it. The last locum at the practice had been terrible, speaking to patients as if they were five years old, and they’d all complained to Phyllis and asked not to have any more appointments with him.
Though Marc was permanent rather than a locum. Given that he was moving here from London, Laurie had expected someone in his late forties or early fifties, wanting to exchange the bustle of life in the city for the much calmer pace of life in a small Norfolk town. Marc looked as if he was in his mid-thirties, a couple of years older than herself. And he was very easy on the eye, with hazel eyes behind wire-framed glasses, and dark hair, cut very short, which stuck up slightly on the top.
She damped down the surge of attraction. This was ridiculous. So what if he happened to remind her slightly of a TV star she’d had a crush on for ages? He probably wasn’t single anyway; and, even if he was, she was very careful about relationships nowadays. No way was she giving Izzy a series of ‘uncles’ flitting in and out of her life in place of her absent father. Her little girl came first. Always would.
Besides, given what had happened with Dean, she didn’t want to repeat her mistakes. Being single suited her just fine.
‘So who’s on your list this morning?’ she asked.
He glanced at the screen. ‘My first patient’s Judy Reynolds.’
‘Ah.’
Marc looked at her, frowning. ‘Is there anything I need to know?’
‘Only that she’s on my mental list for my pet project.’
‘Sam mentioned that.’
‘I thought he might.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’d better not make you late starting on your first day, but maybe we can talk about my project at break?’
‘Sure.’
He pressed the button to call in his first patient, and a few moments later there was a knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ he called.
A middle-aged woman walked in, and her eyes widened as she saw both Laurie and Marc sitting there.
‘Hello, Judy,’ Laurie said with a smile. ‘I hope you don’t mind me sitting in on your appointment with Dr Bailey?’
‘Is this all to do with your GP training thing?’ Judy asked.
‘Yes.’ Laurie smiled. ‘If anything, Dr Bailey’s senior to me—he’s been a GP for longer than I have.’
‘That’s fine. I don’t mind you sitting in.’
‘Thank you. Just pretend I’m not here,’ Laurie said.
Judy looked at Marc. ‘So you’re not another locum, then?’
‘No, I’m here permanently.’
‘Right.’ She blew out a breath. ‘That last locum was terrible—he spoke to you as if you were a toddler.’
Laurie didn’t say a word—the practice manager already knew how everyone felt about that particular locum, staff and patients alike—but she wanted to see how Marc dealt with the situation.
‘I’m sorry you had that kind of experience with him. But I’d like to assure you that that’s not the way I do things, Mrs Reynolds,’ Marc said. ‘How can I help?’
‘I’m probably wasting your time and I’m making a fuss over nothing, but I’m just—’ She sighed. ‘Well, I’m tired all the time. That locum sent me for blood tests, but I never heard anything back.’
Marc looked at the notes on the screen. ‘I can see he checked you out for an underactive thyroid. Can I ask how your periods are?’
‘A bit on the heavy side,’ she admitted.
‘That can make you a bit anaemic, which in turn can make you feel tired,’ Marc said.
She grimaced. ‘I’m almost looking forward to the menopause so I don’t have to put up with them any more.’
‘You don’t have to put up with heavy periods now, either. It might be another five years before you’re menopausal, but periods can often be a problem in the lead-up to menopause. I can give you something to make them a bit more manageable.’
Laurie liked the way he’d got straight to the point without any fuss or embarrassment.
Marc looked at the screen. ‘Your blood results tell me your thyroid is working properly, but given that your periods are a bit heavy I’d like to take some blood and check your iron levels, if that’s OK?’
Judy nodded.
‘In the meantime, you might find it worth taking a supplement with B vitamins and zinc. That often helps with energy levels. Have you been under any extra stress lately?’ he asked as he took the blood sample.
Judy shrugged. ‘No more than any other mum who’s got kids with exams coming up in a few weeks and they have to be nagged into revising.’
‘Are you waking up at all in the night?’
‘Not that I remember. I sleep like the dead.’ She gave him a rueful look. ‘Though my husband’s been complaining about my snoring, and the kids say we do synchronised snoring.’
He returned her smile. ‘And I bet they told you where it’d embarrass you most.’
‘In the post office, where everyone could hear them.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes.’
‘It could be that you have sleep apnoea.’
‘What’s that?’ Judy asked.
‘It’s where the soft tissues in your throat relax when you’re asleep and block your airway for a few seconds, which brings your body out of deep sleep. It’s so short you won’t remember waking up. Even though you might think you’ve had a good night’s sleep, you’re not actually getting enough deep sleep to restore your energy levels.’
Laurie liked the way he’d explained it: concisely, and in layman’s terms, while putting Judy at her ease. Marc was definitely going to be an asset to the team.
Judy looked worried. ‘Do many people get it?’
‘It’s pretty common. About one in every fifty women of your age get it,’ he said. ‘But I need to ask you a few more questions to narrow things down a bit more, if you don’t mind?’
Marc’s manner was as nice as his voice, Laurie was pleased to discover, and he got a lot of information from Judy while keeping his questions relaxed and sounding concerned rather than aggressive.
‘Do you have hay fever or anything like that?’ he asked finally.
‘Well, I often get a bit of a sniffle this time of year.’ Judy flapped a dismissive hand. ‘But it’s nothing I’d bother a doctor with.’
‘Any symptom’s always worth checking out. That’s what I’m here for,’ he reassured her. ‘I’d like you to have some tests, because from what you’ve told me I think you might well have sleep apnoea. I’ll need to get in touch with the local sleep clinic, but what’ll happen is that they’ll give you a monitor to wear overnight to measure the oxygen in your blood and your breath, plus your heart rate, and then they’ll analyse the data. It’ll take me a couple of days to arrange, if that’s OK? I’ll get Phyllis to ring you as soon as I have some news.’
‘Thank you.’ Judy looked surprised. ‘I’d never even heard of sleep apnoea before.’
‘It might not be that,’ he reassured her, ‘but I think it’s a possibility and it’s worth checking out. If nothing else, we can cross it off the list of potential causes of your tiredness. You can do some things to help yourself in the meantime. I’m pleased you don’t smoke or drink heavily, as that tends to make sleep apnoea worse, but losing weight would help you. So would sleeping on your side rather than your back.’
‘How do I do that?’ she asked.
‘The easiest way is to put a tennis ball in a sock and pin it to the back of your nightie, so it’s not comfortable for you to lie on your back.’
‘Oh, very sexy,’ she said with a grimace. ‘My husband’s going to wet himself laughing.’
‘You said he’s snoring, too. If it disturbs you,’ Marc said, ‘then you can do the same thing to his pyjamas. And tell him it’s on your doctor’s advice.’ Mark smiled.
‘I’ll do that.’ She smiled.
‘Now—your periods. It says here you’re not on the Pill.’
‘No. John had the snip after our son was born.’
‘OK. Have you had any problem with taking any tablets with progesterone in the past?’
‘No.’
‘Good. It’s oestrogen that’s making your periods heavy, and the progesterone will help balance that out a bit. You take the tablets for twenty-one days and then stop for seven, and you should find that your periods are a lot more manageable.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Losing weight,’ he said gently, ‘would help you with that as well. Your body produces more oestrogen when you’re overweight.’
Judy looked upset. ‘It’s not as if I sit there watching TV all night, stuffing my face with doughnuts and burgers.’
‘No,’ he replied carefully, ‘but your body’s less efficient as you get older, so every year after you hit forty you’ll need to exercise more and eat less to stay at the same weight. Which is totally unfair, but I guess at least it happens to all of us.’
‘Can I suggest something?’ Laurie asked. At Marc’s nod, she continued, ‘I’m about to set up a project for some of our patients who are having problems losing weight. It’s not a judgemental thing, it’s looking at ways we can support you better and help you. Would you like to come along and see what’s on offer?’
‘After all the diets I’ve been on, it’s worth a try,’ Judy said. ‘All right.’
‘Great. I’ll put you down on my list, and I’ll get in touch with more details later in the week,’ Laurie said.
Marc printed out the prescription, signed it and handed it to Judy. ‘I’ll get Phyllis to ring you and make an appointment as soon as I hear back from the sleep clinic.’
‘Thank you, Dr Bailey.’
‘Pleasure. And I meant what I said. If you’re worried about something, no matter how silly you think it is, come and see me. If it’s something you don’t need to worry about, I can tell you so you can stop worrying—and if it is something to worry about, then by telling me we’ve got a better chance of catching it early, which in turn means that treatment will be easier for you.’
‘I will.’ She looked relieved. ‘Thank you, Dr Bailey.’
‘My pleasure.’
Marc saw the rest of his patients up to the mid-morning break, then glanced at Laurie. ‘Dare I ask if I passed muster?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘It wasn’t a test. It was a chance for me to observe how you do things, and maybe learn from you. But, since you asked, yes, you have the skills I’d want my trainees to have. You put patients at their ease, you talk to them in layman’s terms, and you’re a definite improvement on that locum.’
‘Thank you. Though, from what I’ve heard this morning, just about anyone would be an improvement on that locum.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘So how did Mrs Reynolds know about your training?’
‘This is a small town, Marc. Everyone knows everything.’
‘Right.’
He sounded slightly tense—wary about living his life in a goldfish bowl, maybe. She smiled. ‘It’s not being nosey, it’s caring. It’s being part of the community. Talking of which, my pet project might be useful for you. Obviously you don’t need to lose weight, but it’ll be a quick way for you to get to know a lot of people in the town.’
‘So what does it involve?’
‘Let’s grab a drink, and I’ll explain.’ In the staff kitchen, she made them both a coffee, then chose a corner chair. ‘We have quite a few patients on the obesity register. I’m looking at trying to stop them developing diabetes or having a CV incident. It’s not all about diet—a few of them have brought in food diaries, and they’ve already made all the simple switches and are eating sensibly.’
‘What about exercise?’ Marc asked.
‘That’s what I think the problem is. They already have work and family commitments, and they put their own needs way down the list and they don’t think they have the time to exercise.’
‘So we have to change their mind sets first.’
‘Exactly. A friend of mine at the university is doing a study on the effects of diet and exercise in people over thirty-five. He can lend us activity monitors, so we can get our at-risk patients to wear them for a week and we can show them a baseline of what they actually do, and then we look at how they can boost their activity, when and where.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘I thought we could repeat the monitoring at three-month intervals to see how the activity patterns of our patients have changed, and tie that in with weight, blood glucose and cholesterol checks. It’s a win-win situation. My friend Jay gets people in his target group for his study, and we get to help our patients. And the monitors won’t cost anything, so Leigh won’t be on my case about budgets.’
‘Ah, the joys of budgets. The key to getting people to do regular exercise is to find out what they actually enjoy doing,’ Marc said.
She was pleased that he’d hit the nail on the head. ‘That’s why I want to get the local gyms and sports clubs involved, to set up taster sessions and beginners’ classes. Once our patients find out what they enjoy doing, then we talk them into having an exercise buddy who goes with them to whatever the activity is.’
‘So they feel they can’t let their friends down and they stick to a programme,’ Marc said. ‘That’s a really good idea.’
‘Sam says you have an interest in sports medicine.’
‘Yes.’ Though Marc didn’t volunteer any information about himself or what experience he had in sports medicine, Laurie noticed. Clearly he preferred to keep himself to himself. OK. She could work with that. She’d seen how he was with patients, and that was more important.
‘So would you like to be involved in the project?’ she asked.
‘I can’t really say no, can I?’
‘Of course you can. I understand if you’re too busy.’
He looked thoughtful, and for a moment she thought he was going to say no. Then he nodded. ‘OK.’
‘Thank you. When’s a good time for you for a meeting?’
‘After surgery?’ he suggested.
Not when she had a pile of paperwork and then had to take the dog out and do the school run. ‘Is there any chance you could make an evening meeting at my house?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Your house,’ he repeated.
‘Because I’m a single mum,’ she explained. ‘It’d be a lot easier for me to discuss work with you at my place after Izzy’s gone to bed. If that’s a problem for you, never mind—I’ll ask my mum to babysit.’
Something in her tone told Marc that wasn’t her preferred option. ‘But you’d rather not?’
‘Mum helps me out quite a bit as it is,’ Laurie admitted. ‘I try not to ask her unless it’s really desperate, because it’s not fair to keep relying on her.’
Discuss the project at her house.
A family home.
It was something Marc had shied away from for the last couple of years; since the accident, he’d quietly cut himself off from friends who had children. But right now it didn’t look as if he had much choice in the matter. Given that Laurie had already explained why she didn’t want to ask her mum, he’d feel mean if he pushed her into getting a babysitter. And he didn’t want to explain why children were difficult for him, outside work. That was his business. His burden.
‘If it’s a problem for your partner,’ she added, misreading his silence, ‘then she—or he—is very welcome to join us. We won’t be discussing individual patients, so we wouldn’t be breaking any confidentiality.’
His partner was welcome to join them.
Marc just about managed not to flinch.
‘I don’t have a partner,’ he said, struggling to keep his voice even. It was something he’d just about come to terms with over the last two years. But he still couldn’t forgive himself for Ginny’s death.
Laurie grimaced. ‘Sorry. You must think I’m being horribly nosey. I guess that’s the problem with growing up in a small town—you know everyone and everyone knows you, and if you don’t know something you tend to come straight out and ask. It wasn’t meant maliciously.’
He understood that—he’d already worked out that Laurie Grant was warm, bubbly and incredibly enthusiastic—but he didn’t want people knowing too much about him. If they knew the truth about his past, they’d despise him as much as he despised himself. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said neutrally.
‘How about this evening?’ she suggested.
‘That’s fine. What time’s good for you?’
‘Izzy goes to bed at seven. So any time after that.’ She shrugged. ‘Unless you’d like to come for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just pasta and garlic bread and salad, but there’s more than enough if you’d like to join us.’
‘Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check if you don’t mind.’ He didn’t want to be rude to his new colleague; but he was also guiltily aware that in other circumstances he would’ve loved to share a meal with her. There was something about Laurie that drew him; she wasn’t a conventional beauty, but there was a warmth and brightness about her, and her smile made the room feel as if it had just lit up. Though, for his own peace of mind, he knew he needed to keep himself separate. And in any case he’d guess that, as a single parent, her life would be complicated enough without adding someone like him to the mix.
‘No problem.’ She scribbled down her address on a piece of paper, added her phone number and handed it to him. ‘Just in case you get held up. See you later.’ She smiled. ‘Enjoy your first morning, and welcome to Pond Lane Surgery.’
The rest of the morning surgery went fine. Marc went home for a sandwich and ate it in the kitchen. He stayed out of the dining room, because it contained a stack of boxes he hadn’t been able to face unpacking. Boxes full of memories he couldn’t handle.
Maybe he should’ve taken up his sister’s offer of help, instead of being too proud and telling Yvonne that he was fine and he’d be able to sort it out. Because he wasn’t fine. And he couldn’t sort it out.
Still, he’d brushed her offer aside, so he’d have to live with his choice. The boxes couldn’t stay there for ever, so he’d have to make himself do it room by room.
One step at a time.
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