The Doctor's Christmas Gift

‘But?’ Catherine paused in the act of popping another sliver of omelette into her mouth when she caught the reservation in his voice.

‘Not really a but.’ He smiled reassuringly. ‘I just find it odd that someone with your talent hasn’t found a permanent position. You’ve worked in…what? Five different practices since you qualified?’

‘Six, actually, if you count where I did my GP rotation.’

She pushed the plate away, wanting to concentrate on the reason why she was there rather than allowing herself to be sidetracked. ‘I suppose it does seem strange from your point of view, but I assure you that the reason I haven’t taken a permanent post isn’t because of a lack of offers. On the contrary, every practice I have worked for so far has offered me a job, including my present employer.’

‘But that isn’t what you want? Why not?’

He tipped back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. Catherine realised with a little start of surprise that beneath the easygoing manner lay a very astute mind. Matthew Fielding wasn’t a man who would allow anyone to pull the wool over his eyes, but as she had no intention of doing that, it wasn’t a problem.

‘Because I don’t want to work for someone else. My intention has always been to set up my own practice.’ She shrugged but her brown eyes were steady when they met his. ‘That’s why I only ever accept jobs which will further my experience and why I never stay in them longer than a year. Each post I’ve had has been simply a stepping-stone towards my ultimate goal.’

‘And working here at Brookdale Surgery will be another of those stepping-stones? Is that what you are saying?’

He sounded amused by the idea and Catherine smiled although she didn’t share his amusement. Didn’t he realise how serious she was about this and how much time and effort she had put into bringing her plans to fruition?

‘Yes. That’s right. The experience I gain here will be invaluable when I open my own practice,’ she explained calmly.

‘And what if I offered you a permanent post once your contract is up? Is there anything that would make you change your mind—the offer of a partnership, for instance?’

She shook her head. ‘No. I know exactly what I want, Dr Fielding, and there is no way that I would give up everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve.’

‘Then you are a very unusual woman, Catherine. Even more unusual if you can stick to your plans.’

His smile was so wry that it made Catherine wonder what was behind it before she cut short that thought. She wasn’t interested in Matthew as a man but as someone she would be working with. What may or may not have coloured his life in the past didn’t concern her, just as her past didn’t concern him. They would keep things on a strictly business footing…

‘Daddy, you pwomised you’d read me a storwy tonight.’

Catherine looked round when she heard a childish voice and saw a little girl standing in the doorway. She gave Catherine a shy smile as she came into the room and went to stand beside Matthew’s chair. She looked very like Matthew with her tumble of sandy blonde curls and deep blue eyes. She was obviously ready for bed, dressed in cosy towelling pyjamas with a ragged old teddy bear clutched in one hand and a well-thumbed book in the other. She gave Catherine a considering look as Matthew put his arm around her.

‘I’m Hannah. Who are you?’

‘Catherine Lewis.’ Catherine smiled although she felt a bit out of her depth. She wasn’t used to children except in a professional capacity and wasn’t sure what else she should say. However, Hannah had none of her inhibitions, it appeared.

Hannah held out the book she was holding. ‘This is my favourite book. Daddy said that he would read it to me but you can do it if he’s too busy.’

‘Oh…I…um…’ Catherine struggled to find an appropriate reply and was saved from having to think one up by Matthew’s laughter.

‘Oh, no, you don’t, you little horror!’ He wrapped his arms around the child and hugged her. ‘I know what you’re up to. Trying to trick poor Catherine into spending the next hour reading to you. You know what the punishment is for that sort of skulduggery!’

‘No…Ooh!’ Hannah squealed with gleeful laughter when Matthew buzzed her cheek with his chin. ‘You’re all pwickly, Daddy!’

‘That’s because I need a shave.’ He swept the child into his arms and stood up. Hannah wound her arms around his neck and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek.

‘I don’t really mind if you’re all pwickly. I love you anyway.’

It was said with typical childish simplicity yet Catherine felt her eyes fill with sudden tears. She stood up abruptly, using the few seconds it took to push back her chair to gather her composure. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so touched to hear Hannah say that. Maybe it was because there was no one in the world who would say the same to her.

The thought was oddly disquieting but, then, the whole evening had been unsettling. All of a sudden, she found herself wondering if this really was the right job for her. Oh, the surgery was located in the perfect area and the experience she would gain here would be invaluable, but what would be the cost to her personally of working here?

It was another unanswerable question, another uncertainty, and she didn’t deal in uncertainties. Her life was structured, planned, assured. That was the way she liked it and how she intended it to continue. She was just debating how to tell Matthew that she wouldn’t be taking the job when a woman appeared.

‘There you are, Hannah! I wondered where you’d got to.’ She turned to Matthew with a rueful smile. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I was trying to keep her out of your way because I knew you were busy but she managed to sneak out while I was helping Becky with her homework!’

Matthew laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it, Mum. At least I managed to head her off when she tried to con poor Catherine into reading her a bedtime story.’

The woman turned to Catherine with a chuckle. ‘A lucky escape, my dear. You’d have ended up staying the night if you’d fallen for that ploy. With Hannah one story tends to lead to another ad infinitum!’

Mrs Fielding rolled her eyes. She was very like Matthew, with greying sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She had the same wonderfully warm smile and once again Catherine found herself responding to it.

‘Obviously a lucky escape,’ she replied lightly.

‘Oh, don’t get overly confident.’ Matthew’s expression was wry as he set Hannah on her feet. ‘This little madam has her ways and means of getting what she wants. So be warned, Catherine. If you’re ever working late of an evening and an angelic little face peeps round the door, watch out. She’s after your story-telling prowess!’

He seemed to have taken it for granted that she would be accepting the job. Catherine’s heart sank when she realised how difficult it was going to be to explain that she was no longer interested in it. She certainly didn’t want to go into the whys and wherefores when she wasn’t sure that she could give him an acceptable explanation for turning it down.

She decided to tell him simply that she had changed her mind and leave it at that. After all, she didn’t owe Matthew Fielding an explanation because it was up to her what she did.

After Mrs Fielding had led a reluctant Hannah away, Catherine saw her chance. ‘Dr Fielding, I—’

‘Haven’t I told you to make it Matt?’ He gave a small shake of his head. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony around here, Catherine, as you’ll soon discover—’

He broke off when the telephone rang. Catherine could see that his attention had been distracted but she simply couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. She steeled herself as she said his name for the first time yet it seemed to flow off her tongue with surprising ease.

‘Matt, I’m afraid I—’

‘Matthew! It’s for you, darling.’

Mrs Fielding’s voice carried clearly along the corridor and Matt sighed as he headed for the door. ‘No rest for the wicked. Sorry, Catherine. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

He disappeared before she could say anything and she heard him hurrying along the passage. She looked round uncertainly, sighing when she saw the half-eaten meal on the table. Poor Matthew seemed doomed to go hungry.

She cut off that thought because it really wasn’t relevant. Whether or not Matthew Fielding ate wasn’t her concern. She went to the door but the corridor was empty. She could hear Matthew’s voice coming from the surgery and decided to head that way. It would be easier to tell him that she wasn’t going to take the job in the surgery rather than in his kitchen because it would help to put things back on a professional footing. All this chatting over omelettes and coffee didn’t do anyone any good!

‘Glenda? Hi, it’s Matt. Sorry to bother you but I’ve just had David Marshall’s carer on the phone. How was he when you saw him last week?’

Catherine paused when she realised that Matthew must have finished his incoming call and was now making one of his own. She didn’t like to interrupt him when it had something to do with a patient. She waited for him to finish, mentally rehearsing what she would say. He was bound to want to know why she didn’t want the job but she would just stick to her guns and refuse to discuss her reasons…

‘Catherine Lewis…that’s right, the one I told you about who had all those wonderful references.’

Catherine hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but she couldn’t help listening when she heard her name mentioned. She smiled when she heard the remark about her references. She was a good doctor and there was no disputing that.

‘How would I sum her up? Well, professionally there’s no doubt that she is absolutely first rate and will be able to handle this job without any trouble at all. As for personally…’ He paused and his tone was reflective when he continued. ‘I suppose the word that springs to mind is vulnerable. Catherine Lewis strikes me as a very vulnerable woman indeed.’

Catherine didn’t hear what else he said. She had stopped listening because her mind had seized on that word and wouldn’t move forward or back. Vulnerable. Was that how Matthew Fielding saw her? Was it true? An hour ago she would have laughed off the suggestion but she couldn’t laugh it off now.

‘Oh, hi. I’m afraid I have to go out on a call. One of our long-term sick patients has taken a turn for the worse. We use an on-call service after hours normally but this case is a bit different. Motor neurone disease is one of those illnesses you pray someone will find a cure for.’