Kisses at Sunset

‘And, I couldn’t put in a chest drain at an altitude of nine hundred metres in a howling blizzard,’ Ally said quietly. ‘We all have different skills.’

‘Maybe.’ He cleared his throat, his voice gruff. ‘You’re a very warm, compassionate person, Ally McGuire. Whatever you’re doing, you give your whole self. You don’t hold anything back, do you?’

She looked at his hard profile and felt a lump in her throat. ‘Not with people I trust. But I suppose I’ve been lucky. I’ve always had family who love me.’

For a moment she thought he was going to say something more, but his eyes were suddenly distant and he pulled into the drive without another word, leaving her with her own thoughts.

* * *

Geoff Thompson didn’t turn up for his next appointment and Ally made a call to the community alcohol team, but they were quite happy with his progress.

‘I think he’s probably depressed,’ she confided in Will one morning, and he nodded.

‘Very likely, in the circumstances. Does he seem depressed?’

‘Well, not at first, but ever since we finished the detox programme he’s been avoiding me.’ Ally frowned. ‘I’ve called at his home twice but he’s always out.’

Will rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Well, he’s been through a great deal so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s depressed.’

Ally made a note to call at his home again, trying to ignore the sudden wave of nausea that hit her.

Jack came in to see her later that morning, and she told him that his gastroscopy had shown a small ulcer, but nothing more sinister. ‘But you tested positive for H. pylori so I need to give you some drugs to clear it up.’

Jack raised an eyebrow. ‘And that should do the trick?’

Ally nodded. ‘Absolutely. You take three drugs together—an ulcer preparation and two different antibiotics—and that should eradicate the organism that causes the ulcer.’

She tapped keys on the computer and printed out a prescription, which she handed to him.

‘I hear you were called out yesterday?’

‘Yes.’ Jack took the prescription and tucked it in his pocket. ‘A woman with a sprained ankle halfway up Harrison Stickle. If I had a fiver for every female with a sprained ankle I’ve seen this year, I could stop doing the lottery.’

Ally laughed. ‘Any excuse to ogle.’

‘She was sixty, Ally,’ Jack said dryly, shrugging on his jacket, ‘although why a woman of her age wanted to walk in the fells in early December is a mystery to me. But there you are. It’s the likes of her that keep me fit.’

They talked for a few minutes more and then she followed him out, picking up her list of house calls from Helen.

Making a note to add Felicity Webster and Geoff Thompson to the list, she wrapped herself up in her woolly coat and took the keys to the four-wheel drive. Since the snow had started they’d worked the calls so that the one with the calls further afield took the Range Rover.

She called on a man with chest pains first and decided he had indigestion. Then she saw an old lady who’d slipped on the ice and hurt her leg. Examining her gently, she noted that the right leg was shortened and externally rotated. Fractured neck of femur.

‘You’ve broken your hip, Mrs Wise,’ she told her gently, exchanging looks with the woman’s daughter who was hovering in the background.

‘Oh, dear. Does that mean a trip to hospital?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ Ally covered her with a blanket and called an ambulance, waiting with them until it arrived.

Next on her list was Felicity, now three days post-delivery and thriving.

‘She’s such a guzzler!’ Felicity patted her daughter on the back to wind her, and Ally smiled.

‘How are the children taking it?’

‘Oh, they keep poking her.’ Felicity laughed and latched the baby on the breast again. ‘If she survives until Christmas it will be a miracle.’

‘And how are you?’