The Perfect Treatment

‘Oh…I see,’ Abby said thoughtfully, as though she had had no idea. ‘That explains it.’

‘I’ll talk to you at the end of the session, Dr Gibson. Wait for me,’ Blake Contini said, turning away from her.

‘Yes, Dr Contini.’

When Abby caught sight of her colleagues in the family practice program looking at her commiseratingly, grinning, she felt her face flush anew. That guy was something else! As soon as these rounds were over she would give him a piece of her mind if he was high-handed with her when she explained about Dr Ryles. As it was, he hadn’t even given her an opening to apologize out of politeness. Some of the other staff men would have turned a blind eye to her lateness. Maybe because some of them didn’t care, she had to admit in all honesty. Some were good teachers, some were mediocre, some were downright bad.

‘What was that all about?’ Her colleague and friend Cheryl Clinton approached her. ‘Was he mad at you for missing the case?’

‘Yeah, I guess so.’ Abby shrugged. ‘What a high-handed guy. And what a nerve, in front of the whole room.’

‘I wouldn’t mind getting that sort of attention from him,’ Cheryl said, her eyes searching the room for the object of their discussion.

‘At least he’s got a firm handshake.’ Abby tried to laugh it off. ‘I can’t stand guys whose hands feel like a slab of cheese or the proverbial dead fish. He wants to see me after…I can’t wait to give him an earful.’

Cheryl laughed. ‘Attagirl!’ she said delightedly. ‘Put him in his place.’ Then she added, sotto voce, ‘Pretty dishy, though, eh?’

Cheryl’s head turned again towards the tall figure who was now across the room talking to the medical residents who had presented the case Abby had just missed.

‘Mmm,’ Abby said absently as she turned to follow Cheryl’s line of vision, looking at the aquiline profile of Dr Contini. Her thoughts were returning sharply to Dr Will Ryles, wondering what was going on right now with him in the emergency department, whether the staff had informed his wife yet, whether she was at this very moment driving to the hospital with a terrible fear in her heart of what she might find there. As soon as possible she would get down there herself and find out.

‘I’m sorry I missed the first case,’ she murmured. ‘Something happened. I’ll tell you about it later, Cheryl.’

The next case was about to be presented. Maybe by the time she got out of this room Dr Ryles would have already been transferred to the coronary care unit.

Dr Contini, as though sensing her eyes on him, turned sharply to look at her over the heads of his new colleagues. His eyebrows rose slightly, questioningly, as their eyes met. Probably, he didn’t even know Will Ryles, she told herself angrily.

Refusing to be the first to look away, Abby held his gaze. There was no way that she was going to be intimidated by him. For the second time in the space of a few minutes she felt a sense of shock, a sudden unwelcome stab of acute sexual attraction. Then all attention was focused on two young residents who stood up at the front of the room to present the second case of the rounds.

When the rounds were finally over and the others had gone, Abby lingered in the room, waiting. All the others had left abruptly, having to resume their normal working day. She watched as Dr Contini walked over to the door and closed it, shutting out the sounds of chatter from the retreating staff.

‘Well, Dr Gibson,’ he said, coming over to her, ‘why were you late? And am I right that you’re in the second year of the family practice training program?’

‘Yes,’ she confirmed, looking at him but trying not to stare. ‘I’ve just started the second year.’

Blake Contini had thick, dark hair, cut fairly short, which contrasted dramatically with a pale skin that had only a very faint tan. From a winter holiday, perhaps? Although Abby was quite tall herself, five feet eight inches, he was considerably taller, forcing her to look up at him as she stood there in her sensible flat shoes.

‘Are you planning to work as a general practitioner when you’ve finished training?’ he asked, not waiting for her to answer his other question.

‘Of course, Dr Contini,’ she said, surprised. ‘Why else would I be doing it?’

‘Plenty of young women doctors get married shortly after training,’ he said dryly, ‘and don’t actually do much practice.’

‘Not me,’ she said. She managed to keep her tone from sounding rude, although she didn’t like his attitude. She had come to these rounds prepared to like and accept him. Now she felt herself to be uncomfortably on the defensive, a feeling which was reasonably alien to her. Yet at the same time she had an instinctive feeling that he had made that remark to find out if she were married. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself fiercely. What’s the matter with you? Usually her internal dialogue was not as intense as this…He must be getting to her. Or she was getting broody…or something.

Maybe he, too, was one of the new breed, Abby thought, with a surge of bitterness as the image of Dr Ryles’s exhausted features came even more vividly into her consciousness. Maybe he was one of the slash-and-burn brigade who got rid of people without any human considerations, treating them like items in statistical tables.

‘I expect residents to be here on time, Dr Gibson,’ he was going on. ‘Even the family practice residents. I trust that is not too much to ask?’ he continued.

‘Um…no…of course not. I have a good reason for being late.’ And she was getting cynical, too.

‘Great,’ he said. ‘Er…Dr Gibson, are you really with me? I have a distinct impression that you’re operating on another plane.’

Blake Contini was aware that he was staring, but couldn’t help himself. The girl in front of him—she seemed like a girl to him—had thick, dark chestnut brown hair with bronze highlights and a slight curl to it all over. Little wisps of hair clung attractively to her creamy neck. He had an absurd desire to touch that neck, to breathe in the scent of her hair…

He also recognized the veiled sarcasm in his own voice. That seemed to have become habitual with him these days when he met attractive women—intelligent, capable, womanly women, who were not afraid of their own femininity—who might pose some sort of threat to his outward calm.

Kaitlin had been like that once. Her unwelcome image floated before his mind’s eye—blonde, pale, like an icemaiden now. With the image came the familiar sharp regret…

He disliked himself for his sarcasm as it represented him as something he was not. It reminded him of his own need. Yet it was a useful defense. He knew instinctively that Abigail Gibson was not a man-hater.

Several rejoinders came to Abby’s mind, but she bit them back. ‘Let me explain,’ she said. With few words, she described what had taken place after she had found Dr Ryles collapsed in the corridor, ending with, ‘Since you’re new here, you may not know Dr Ryles.’

‘On the contrary,’ he said, his face suddenly stiff with concern and shock, ‘I know him well. I knew him before I came here to University Hospital. Have you checked up on how he is?’

‘No, of course not. I came straight here.’ And you’ve been harassing me ever since, she wanted to add.

‘Poor old Will.’ He murmured the words, as though to himself. ‘And an unfortunate experience for you first thing in the morning.’ To her surprise, he reached forward to touch her arm commiseratingly. ‘You probably saved his life.’

‘People were rather scarce.’

‘I might have known something like this would happen,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘He’s been under so much stress lately, and he pushes himself much too hard.’

‘He looked so exhausted when I found him,’ she agreed, ‘I felt so desperately sorry for him.’

‘Yes, he would be exhausted,’ Dr Contini said softly, almost as though he had predicted that Dr Ryles would have a heart attack, making Abby speculate on whether they were actually close friends.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, picking up nuances. ‘Were you, perhaps, aware that he was ill, that he might have an infarct?’

‘No…’ he said, almost absently, ‘Not that. He’s been under a lot of strain.’

Blake Contini regretted his sarcasm even more. The eyes that looked back at him frankly were green, large and expressive in a heart-shaped face; there was none of the calculation that he so frequently saw in the expressions of many women he met for the first time.

Across her pert nose, almost classic-shaped, was a faint band of freckles that spilled over onto her cheeks, giving her a mischievous look, rather like a female Huckleberry Finn…one of his boyhood heroes, who now seemed very far away. He found his eyes moving automatically to her mouth, to her lips that were full, beautifully shaped, soft-looking. The impression of her, of softness, produced a sense of dissonance, imposed, as it was, on his acute concern about Will Ryles.

‘Um…the first case, the one that I missed,’ Abby said, looking at the computer printout he had given her, now feeling the pressure of time. ‘I’m sorry about that. I would like to catch up—’

‘The patient is on 2 East, so maybe you can get to see him today. I shall be seeing him myself at about eleven o’clock—maybe you can manage to meet me there, Dr Gibson,’ he said. ‘I can go over a few things with you. I may want to test your group on this particular case later in the year.’

‘Thank you. I would appreciate that,’ she said formally. ‘General practice isn’t exactly easy, Dr Contini, even though you specialists might think so. We’ve got to be good at everything, not just one thing. And keep up to date on it all.’

‘I didn’t say it was easy, neither do I think so,’ he countered. If he was surprised by her remarks, he hid it well.

‘Start as you mean to go on,’ her mother had always told her. While she understood that to be an aphorism generally referring to marriage, it was, she considered, a good bit of advice to keep in mind at the start of any relationship.

‘I’ll try to get there,’ Abby said stiffly, very conscious suddenly that they were alone in the room, that she was inappropriately attracted to him. ‘I am expected at a family practice clinic right now—Dr Wharton’s clinic in Outpatients.’

‘I’m going to Outpatients myself. I’ll call Dr Wharton and arrange for you to have time off at eleven o’clock,’ he said. Then, making up his mind about something, he looked at his watch with a quick flick of the wrist. ‘If you would like to see Dr Ryles as much as I would, I can call the outpatient clinic, tell them you’re going to be late, then we could visit him briefly in the coronary care unit.’