Saving The Single Dad Doc

‘Well, I hope there won’t be any discrepancies. Not from me.’

‘Excellent. Well, I think you’re ready! Feel like meeting your first patient?’

She turned to look into his face, at those warm crystal-blue eyes of his that twinkled in his pale face, and felt a rush of heat hit her in the solar plexus.

Oh, boy, I’m in trouble!

‘I am.’

‘Well, just push that button there to call her in. Her name will come up on the screen in the waiting room.’

Bethan smiled, nervousness suddenly flooding her system. She adjusted her chair and let out a breath. Then pushed the button.

* * *

Mrs Percy was a sweet old lady who used a walker that she’d jazzed up with some fake flowers and pretty ribbons. She shuffled her way into the room and sat down with a satisfied sigh and a smile as she took in the two doctors facing her.

‘Two for the price of one, eh? Lucky me.’

Bethan smiled. She liked her already. ‘What can I do for you, Mrs Percy?’

She’d already checked her screen and observed that apart from some arthritis in her hips and knees, Mrs Percy didn’t have much wrong with her. Blood pressure had been good on her last check and her cholesterol levels were low.

‘I want to do the Edinburgh Half-Marathon,’ she said, giving one firm nod as she delivered her surprising statement.

‘You do?’ Nothing could have surprised Bethan more. She’d maybe expected My knees are giving me some gip or I’m not sleeping well at night. Anything but what she’d actually said.

‘Aye, I do. And they tell you, don’t they—on the television and whatnot—that if you’re about to embark on a new training regime or exercise you should consult your doctor? So that’s why I’m here. Thought you’d better check me out so I don’t drop dead halfway around.’

Cameron laughed beside her. ‘Mrs Percy is our resident adrenaline junkie.’

Mrs Percy winked at him. ‘Well, adrenaline keeps you going, doesn’t it? I’ve seen those medical shows on TV, when someone’s about to cork it and they give them a shot of adrenaline. Brenda, I tell myself, you need some of that every day.’

Bethan nodded. Fair enough! ‘Okay...well, I guess we need to check you over, then. We’ll need to take your blood pressure, listen to your heart, take your pulse. All right?’

‘Aye, dear. You go for it.’ Mrs Percy rolled up the sleeve of her vast knitted cardigan to reveal a scrawny arm. ‘But I want a good answer, mind. I’ve got lots more living in me, and I haven’t abseiled down a building yet—or swam with sharks.’

‘You want to swim with sharks?’

‘Great white sharks! The meanest buggers of them all! Oh, aye!’

Mrs Percy’s blood pressure was normal. Which was impressive, seeing as she was talking about one of the greatest predators of all time and being stuck in a tiny cage next to one.

‘Well, you’re braver than me, Mrs Percy. I’m quite happy to keep my feet on solid ground.’

‘Och, that’s no way to live, dear. You have to be scared every day. Keeps you fresh. Keeps the blood pumping! You know what I’m talking about, don’t you, Dr Brodie? What with your little foray into illness?’

Cameron gave a polite smile and nodded.

‘Illness is a mean old beast—we all know that—but it’s also the biggest wake-up call.’

‘Well, your BP and heart-rate are good. I think as long as you train sensibly and take your time there’s no reason why you shouldn’t enter the half-marathon if it’s really what you want to do.’

‘Och, that’s brilliant, Doctor. Thank you very much. This your first day, is it?’

Bethan glanced at Cameron and smiled. ‘It is. And you’re my first patient.’

‘Och, really? Do I get a prize?’

‘Just the prize of continued good health, Mrs Percy.’

Mrs Percy nodded. ‘Aye. ’tis a gift not given to all, but I’m taking full advantage of mine whilst I’ve got it. How are you feeling now, Dr Brodie?’

Cameron’s face seemed to flush slightly before he answered, and he wasn’t even looking at Bethan. ‘Much better, thank you.’

Bethan wondered what Cameron had been ill with. Probably a cold, or something. Maybe the flu? If he was back after a brief illness that might explain the dark circles.

She got up to walk Mrs Percy to the door and held it open for her.

Mrs Percy thanked her. ‘Reckon I’ll get myself a gold medal one day. Beat the clock.’

‘You win if you cross the line at the end, Mrs Percy. That should be your goal. Don’t worry about the clock.’

‘But the clock’s the whole point, Doctor. Time’s always against us.’

Bethan closed the door and turned to look at Cameron.

He smiled at her casually, guilelessly, as if he had nothing to hide, and she shrugged her worries away.

It had probably just been man-flu.

Nothing to worry about at all.

* * *

How many of his patients might give the game away?

That had been a close-run thing with Mrs Percy. She liked to talk...liked to gossip. Oddly, the people who talked non-stop never seemed to come to his surgery with sore throats or laryngitis. But a lot of people in Gilloch knew he’d had a run-in with cancer. They didn’t know all the details—he’d only shared those with direct family—but gossip and rumour were rife in a small place such as this.

He’d told everyone else it was over. He’d beaten it. Why upset them? Why put himself in a position of having everyone look at him with sympathy and pity? A dead man walking. They’d be throwing flowers at him before he was six feet under, and who wanted that?

His father had not taken the news of his prognosis well. Why would he? No one wanted to hear things like that. No parent wanted to hear that they would outlive their child, and that was exactly what he’d had to tell his own father.

‘They estimate I maybe have a year left.’

He’d almost not told him. The very idea of sitting down in the living room and having to utter those words had made him feel physically sick. He didn’t ever want to remind himself of the look on his father’s face when he had, silently wiping away his tears, his mouth grim as he looked away and gave one solitary sniff.

‘I’m going to leave the practice. I’m going to spend my time with Rosie and you, as much as I can.’