Ally smothered her smile. ‘Wax can be very painful. If there’s no improvement after you’ve had them syringed, come back and see me.’
She watched Mrs Turner go with a wry smile, her mind only half on the job. The other half was on Sean Nicholson and how she was going to handle him. One thing was sure, he wasn’t an easy man to brush off. Once he wanted something he got it. And was that her? With a groan she rubbed her aching forehead with her slim fingers and then summoned up a smile as her next patient tapped on the door.
Mary Thompson was a nervous lady in her late forties whom Ally usually saw only rarely. Lately she’d been visiting the surgery every few weeks, each time with something minor. Ally had a growing suspicion that something else was wrong.
‘Hello, Mrs Thompson.’ Ally smiled at her gently. ‘What can I do for you today?’
The woman settled herself on the edge of the chair, her thin fingers twisting her gloves.
‘I’m so sorry to bother you but I’ve had a bit of a cough, Doctor.’
Ally nodded and reached for her stethoscope. ‘For how long?’
Mrs Thompson looked vague. ‘Oh, a couple of weeks, I suppose—hard to say, really. But it’s keeping me awake at night.’
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