Her Consultant Boss

His grey eyes narrowed. ‘Lucky for us, then, that the patients seem to know where to come,’ he remarked dismissively, and instantly Megan felt chastened.

She cleared her throat. ‘You said that you wanted to see me?’ she queried, lifting her chin and deciding that she had done enough apologising for one day. Flyaway strands of her hair, defying her attempts to tame it with pins, drifted with the movement, and he shot her a dark glance. Perhaps the sun, filtering in through the window blinds, had caught the tawny strands and condemned her even more in his eyes. That auburn, fiery tint often reflected the underlying obstinacy of her nature that could one day be her undoing.

‘That’s right. I do.’ He came to half sit, half lean on the table by her side, and his proximity alarmed her momentarily. She felt dwarfed by him. He was tall, just as she’d expected. His legs were long, and as he stretched them out beside her she could see the fabric of his trousers stretching against taut thighs. She blinked and tried to clear the sudden heat haze that fogged her mind. Get a grip, Megan, she told herself. He already thinks you’re an idiot, without you giving him any more cause for complaint.

‘We haven’t had a chance to meet before today,’ he was saying, ‘because, unfortunately, I wasn’t able to interview you myself.’

She noted that he put a faint emphasis on the word ‘unfortunately’. He was obviously regretting that omission already.

‘I had to go to an emergency meeting that afternoon,’ he went on, ‘and I had to ask a colleague to take my place. As I recall, you weren’t able to make the journey a second time.’ He studied her. ‘All of which means, of course, that I know very little about you except what is in your references and my colleague’s report.’

‘What is it that you want to know?’ Megan asked.

His eyes lanced into her, but revealed nothing of what he was thinking. They were as dark and unfathomable as the North Sea. ‘You were doing a house officer job in the Midlands—what was it that made you want come up here? And why did you choose psychiatry? As far as I can gather, you haven’t had any experience in that field up to now.’

‘My last house officer stint was in paediatrics, which I love,’ she explained, ‘but I wanted to widen my experience. I wanted to know more about psychiatry, and I thought there might also be the possibility of my working with children, here in Wales.’

‘We do have a paediatric unit, that’s true, and I’m sure you’ll find yourself working with children some of the time. I must say, though, that I’m not altogether sure that you will be suited to this kind of work. I’ve seen nothing in your background that suggests that you have any interest in it. You’ve studied accident and emergency, obstetrics, general medicine, but nothing so far that points to a leaning towards psychiatry. Is it possible that you are thinking of changing course at some point and training as a GP?’

‘Up to now,’ Megan said huskily, brushing an invisible speck from her skirt, ‘I have concentrated on becoming a hospital doctor. I don’t know whether I would change my mind and want to work in general practice.’

His glance followed the movement of her hand and slid down to dwell on the shapely curve of her legs. He looked away and then stood up abruptly. ‘You might find it better to think ahead and come to a decision about which branch of medicine you want to specialise in. It won’t do your career any good if you flit about.’

She cleared her throat. ‘You’re right, of course, but at the moment I see nothing wrong in widening my areas of expertise. That way, when I finally decide what I want to do, I’ll know that I’ve made the right choice in the end.’

‘Perhaps.’ He looked at her thoughtfully, and then walked over to the coffee-machine that stood on a shelf in a corner of the room and started to fill a mug. He glanced across at her. ‘Would you like a cup of coffee? The others had some earlier.’

‘Thank you, yes, I would.’ She realised suddenly that she was parched. Nervous anxiety was drying her throat and perhaps it showed in her voice. Maybe that was why he had made the offer.

‘Do you have family here in Wales?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘As a matter of fact, I do. I have a sister who lives not far from here. I’ve been staying with her for a week or so while I look for a place of my own.’

‘What about the rest of your family? Do your parents live around here?’

‘My mother lives in central Wales, so I should be able to see her on a fairly regular basis.’

She was too far away to be able to help Jenny as much as she would have liked, and Megan knew that her mother was relying on her to do what she could for her younger daughter while she was going through trying times.

He handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Help yourself to cream and sugar.’ He stirred his own coffee carefully, with deliberation. ‘You say that you’re looking for a place of your own—haven’t your arrangements with your sister worked out?’

‘They’ve worked perfectly well,’ she answered coolly. Was he determined to look for faults? ‘It’s just that she only has a small house and things are rather crowded, since she has two children, my nephews, living there as well, and I don’t want to be under her feet for any longer than necessary. That’s why I’m looking for a place of my own, one that is fairly close by. It would have to be near to the hospital as well, of course.’

‘Of course—if only to ensure that you get here on time,’ he murmured.

Megan felt a flush of pink colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Well, yes, that too, it goes without saying. I’ve made enquiries at various agencies, but so far they haven’t come up with anything that fits the bill.’

He was thoughtful for a moment, and then said, ‘It depends what you’re looking for, of course, but I do know of a place that might suit you. It’s about half a mile from here, a one-bedroomed flat, in a house that has been split into four self-contained units. Some work was being done on it, but I think it might be available soon if you want to go and have a look at it.’

She nodded. ‘I would, yes.’ She was surprised that he was taking an interest, but, then, he had pointed out an ulterior motive, hadn’t he? It wasn’t far from the hospital and that would ensure her being on time. ‘Who do I have to see about keys?’

‘Go down to the hospital’s accommodation office, and Mrs Carter will sort things out for you. She’s the one who sees to arrangements of that sort.’

‘Thank you. I will.’

He looked at her sharply. ‘Don’t thank me. I simply want to be sure that you have no excuse not to do your job properly. I already have misgivings about accepting my colleague’s judgement where you’re concerned. It was only that your qualifications and your references seemed to justify his faith in you. Make sure that you don’t let him down.’

Sparks flared in her blue eyes. ‘I won’t.’ The insinuation that she might do less than her best annoyed her. ‘I always work to the best of my ability.’

‘Let’s hope so. I shall be watching you, Dr Llewellyn.’

She had no doubts about that, and she winced inwardly once more at the prospect. He’d made it plain enough that he would be a thorn in her side for the next six months!

CHAPTER TWO

MEGAN was determined not put a foot wrong the next day. She didn’t want to give Sam Benedict any more opportunity to find fault with her, and so she spent the morning working on routine tasks assigned to her, following up queries on patients’ notes and organising treatment schedules. That way she managed to keep a low profile and stay out of his way.

She couldn’t avoid him for ever, though. In the afternoon, when they assembled in his office after lunch, he homed in on her and said, ‘What’s happening with those files you were working on? How far have you got with them?’

Her heart sank. Was he expecting her to have finished them by now? She would have liked a little more time, but his grey gaze flickered over her, giving her no room to manoeuvre.

‘I’ve managed to get a good two-thirds of the way through,’ she answered cautiously, trying to inject a positive note into her voice. ‘It shouldn’t take me too long to finish the rest.’

He grimaced. ‘You’d better leave them for now. I want you and Dr Jones and Dr Morgan to work with me this afternoon.’

She had failed again. He turned to Julie Neville, the beautiful blonde, who was doing her best to ensure that she was standing by his side. ‘Dr Neville,’ he said with a smile, ‘you will be working with Dr Sanderson. Some of his patients might be of special interest to you, given your background of experience with women and postnatal depression.’

Julie tried not to show her disappointment. ‘If you think that’s best,’ she murmured doubtfully.

‘I do.’

‘Very well.’ Since there was very little she could object to in the arrangement, she withdrew gracefully enough from the group. ‘I’ll come and find you at the end of the day and let you know how it went.’

‘That’s a good idea.’

Julie retreated to go off in search of Will Sanderson, and Sam Benedict turned to the rest of them.

‘We’re going to spend the next couple of hours in the children’s unit,’ he said. ‘I’m hoping that you’ll find it a useful experience.’ He looked at them to see if anyone might venture to disagree. Since no one did, he waved a hand towards the door. ‘Well, then, if you would like to follow me…’

He led the way along the corridor and through double doors which opened up into a bright, cheerful area where big yellow footprints trailed across the floor towards a children’s playroom. Megan looked up and saw that there were big, fluffy, painted white clouds dangling from the blue ceiling.

‘There’s an observation lounge through here, where we can look in on a play session,’ he remarked. ‘I think you’ll find it interesting.’

He stood to one side, waiting as they all filed into the room, and then he pointed out a large glass view panel. ‘The glass window is a special one,’ he commented. ‘You can see into the room, but no one in there can see you.’

Megan looked through the panel into the playroom beyond. A little boy was walking around, looking at all the toys and games that had been set out on tables and shelves. He was grimacing, moving jerkily and kicking out at the tables as he passed them by. A woman, presumably a therapist, was pointing out various activities to him, though he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what she was saying.

‘I want you to watch what is happening in there and tell me if you come to any conclusions,’ Dr Benedict said, handing out copies of the child’s case notes. ‘Matthew is six years old, and his mother is becoming quite concerned about his behaviour. He takes little notice of what she tells him, and she is increasingly worried about his habit of pulling faces and making odd gestures. There are problems at school, too. According to his teachers, he isn’t making progress in quite the way that they might have expected, and they feel that he can sometimes be disruptive and inattentive, and answer questions with inappropriate or nonsensical remarks.’