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Jack dressed quickly and settled himself back in his chair. ‘So now what?’
‘Well, you need to try an antacid to start with, and you must take it four times a day. If that doesn’t help then we’ll give you something stronger. I’ve got a leaflet here on lifestyle advice.’ She rummaged in her drawer and handed it to him with a grin. ‘You won’t like it.’
Jack gave a snort and scanned the leaflet briefly. ‘You’re going to tell me not to drink, aren’t you?’
Ally laughed. ‘Well, it is an irritant so at least cut down. We’ll see how you get on. I might need to send you for a gastroscopy.’
‘Looking into my stomach?’
She nodded. ‘That’s right. I’m sure it’s straightforward, but as you’re over forty-five and this has come on suddenly it’s best to be on the safe side.’
‘OK. I put myself in your hands.’ He grinned and stood up. ‘Thanks, Ally. By the way, are you and Charlie coming to the fundraising bonfire party next Saturday?’
‘If I’m not on call.’ Ally flicked through her diary and smiled. ‘No, here it is. Mountain Rescue Team party. By the way, try and restrict your conversation in front of Charlie, would you? I’ve spent the whole week answering questions on hypothermia and people dying on mountains.’
‘Oops, sorry.’ Jack looked guilty and walked towards the door. ‘I was talking to your mum and I forgot she was there, actually. Oh, I gather Sean’s living with you.’
Ally ground her teeth. News travelled fast in a small community. ‘He’s my lodger.’
‘Right.’ Jack’s eyes gleamed slightly. ‘Well, if you see him before I do, get him to come along, too, will you?’
She forced a smile. ‘If I see him.’
She certainly wouldn’t be going out of her way to find him. And she certainly wouldn’t be going with him to a bonfire party.
* * *
Ally finished her calls fairly quickly and resisted the temptation to drop in on Mrs Thompson. There was a chance she’d make things worse by calling unannounced, and as the woman was coming to see her on Thursday she made the decision to be patient. Instead, she drove along the dual carriageway to the Infirmary to visit Pete Williams.
He was lying, immobilised, on the bed, his head buried in a book on climbing.
‘Hello, trouble.’ Ally dropped a football magazine on the bed next to him and settled herself in the chair.
‘Dr McGuire!’ His face brightened as he picked up the magazine. ‘Hey, this is great! Thanks!’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Sore.’ Pete coloured. ‘And very stupid. Mr Morgan read me the Riot Act.’
Ally gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘You had a lucky escape.’
‘I know.’ His fingers fiddled with the sheet. ‘Mr Morgan said that if you and Dr Nicholson hadn’t been in the area I would have died.’
‘Well, we were,’ Ally said briskly, ‘so don’t let’s think about things like that now. How’s the blood sugar?’
He shrugged and pulled a face. ‘Not too bad, considering.’
‘What were you trying to prove, Pete?’ Ally’s voice was soft and Pete stared down at th
e bedcovers.
‘Dunno, really.’ He made an impatient sound. ‘Yes, I do! I’m just fed up with it all, Dr McGuire. Being different, you know?’
Ally shook her head. ‘No, I don’t know. You’re not different, Pete. You just have diabetes.’
‘But that makes me different, doesn’t it?’ He glanced at her and then sagged back against the pillows. ‘I can’t join in cross-country properly because I have to test my blood sugar, I can’t binge on food…’
Ally watched him thoughtfully. ‘Well, the bingeing probably isn’t a good idea, but I don’t see why you can’t do cross-country.’
