Ally suppressed a sigh of frustration. Some of her patients were wonderful but some of them were just downright nosy!
‘That’s right, Mrs Turner, we’re glad to have the help.’
Mrs Turner fiddled in her handbag and pulled out a handkerchief. ‘Will this one be staying longer than the last one, then?’
Ally forced a smile. She sincerely hoped not. With any luck he’d be moving on in a few weeks and she’d be able to breathe properly again.
‘Dr Nicholson is a locum doctor. He’s only temporary. Now then, what can I help you with today?’
The old lady looked momentarily baffled. ‘Well, nothing, dear, I—’
‘You came to see me, Mrs Turner,’ Ally reminded her gently, and was rewarded with a smile.
‘Of course! I remember now. My ears.’ She shook her head gingerly. ‘They’re popping all the time.’
Ally picked up her auroscope and examined both her patient’s ears carefully. ‘There’s nothing wrong, Mrs Turner, just a build-up of wax. Make an appointment with Sister to have them syringed. You need to put a few drops of olive oil into your ears for a few days before you see her.’
‘Wax! Is that all?’ The old lady looked at her suspiciously. ‘Did you get a proper look?’
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.’
A couple of weeks. A quick glance at the computer confirmed that she’d seen her only last week with a painful toe. If her chest had been bothering her then, why hadn’t she mentioned it? Something nagged at Ally’s brain.
‘Slip your top off, Mrs Thompson, and let me have a listen to your chest,’ she murmured, wondering how best to get to the bottom of this. She didn’t know Mary Thompson that well and she didn’t seem the sort to open up easily.
She listened to the woman’s chest and found it clear, just as she’d suspected.
‘Do you smoke, Mrs Thompson?’
Mary Thompson shook her head. ‘No, Doctor, but my husband does.’
Her husband. Ally had a vague mental picture of an overweight man in his early fifties. Yes, that was him. She’d seen him once for a routine medical for a new job.
‘Your chest doesn’t sound too bad,’ Ally said carefully, folding up the stethoscope and placing it back on her desk. ‘I’d like to check it again in a week. Is there anything else I can help you with while you’re here, Mrs Thompson?’
Was there just the briefest hesitation? ‘No, Doctor. No, just my chest.’
Ally tried again, her voice infinitely gentle. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else worrying you, Mary?’
The woman gripped her handbag until her knuckles were white. ‘Nothing at all.’
So why didn’t Ally believe her? ‘I really would like to see you again next week.’
Mary Thompson nodded slowly and stood up, looking utterly defeated. ‘If you think it’s necessary.’