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Given the choice of Evanna as a friend or Evanna out of his life, which would he choose?
Without question, he’d rather keep her as a friend than lose her. Which meant that he now found himself in an extremely delicate situation.
He’d just have to work harder at forgetting her, he promised himself, sprawling on the bed without any expectation of actually sleeping.
Somehow, he’d get their relationship back to the place where it had always been.
‘I’ve got Jenny Price in Reception with Helen.’ Janet’s voice was crisp and efficient on the phone. ‘Can you fit her in?’
Helen Price. ‘Well, that’s a bit spooky because I promised Ann Carne I’d take a look at her notes this week.’ Evanna ran through the conversation in her head. ‘Send them in, of course. Do you know what the problem is?’
‘No. But Jenny Price is very quiet. Shy. Keeps herself to herself. But she looks worried and there’s something about that child that doesn’t seem right to me.’
Evanna tucked the phone between her shoulder and her ear so that she could finish printing off the letter she was writing. ‘What’s that?’
‘That child is small.’
Evanna took the paper out of the printer and sighed, remembering Ann’s concerns. ‘She’s five years old, Janet. Little girls of five are often delicate.’
‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
Evanna smiled. ‘OK, I’ll take a look. If I’m worried, I’ll get Logan to examine her. Is he still around or has he gone out on calls?’ She’d successfully avoided him all week and buried herself in work, trying not to think that he might be out there seducing one incredibly lucky woman.
‘He’s just finishing his list.’
‘Send in Jenny and Helen whenever they’re ready.’ They appeared at her door only moments later.
Jenny was a slender, nervous-looking woman with mousy hair caught up in a clip at the back of her head. She looked pale and harassed. ‘Nurse Duncan, I know I should have made an appointment, but—’
‘It really doesn’t matter at all, Mrs Price.’ Evanna interrupted her apology with a dismissive wave of her hand and a friendly smile. ‘We try to be quite informal on Glenmore if we can.’
Jenny pulled a face. ‘Where I was living last you were lucky to be able to get an appointment within a fortnight.’
‘By which time you’re either dead or cured.’ Evanna smiled with understanding and brought up Helen’s notes on the computer. ‘How can we help you today?’
Jenny hesitated and then glanced towards her daughter. ‘It isn’t anything specific. Well, I suppose it is in a way. I mean, she gets incredibly breathless when she runs around and that’s starting to worry me because a young girl of her age surely shouldn’t be that unfit.’
‘So she’s breathless. Anything else?’
‘Well, we had a terrible winter with chest infections.’ Jenny bit her lip. ‘I’m wondering whether it could be asthma. That’s why I came to see you because Miss Carne, the headmistress, told me that you and the other nurse see patients with asthma.’
‘Yes, we do, although in the first instance patients are diagnosed by one of the doctors. Then we usually do the follow-up and make any adjustments to medication.’
Helen wandered over to Jenny and tugged at her sleeve. ‘Mummy, I’m thirsty.’ She was a small, pale girl with soft blonde hair and delicate features.
Evanna watched her for a moment, remembering what both Ann and Janet had said. ‘I’ll fetch you a glass of water, Helen,’ she said gently, walking over to the brightly coloured paper cups she kept for children. ‘Can you just step on the scales for me?’
She weighed Helen, recorded the result and then handed her a cup of chilled water. Then she questioned Jenny in more depth, asking her about Helen’s medical history.
‘She was a normal delivery. No problems. Since then she’s had chest infections. Every winter she starts. Nasty cough.’
‘Does she cough at night?’
‘Not in the summer. Only when she has an infection.’
‘And have you ever seen a doctor about her infections?’
‘Every winter we end up at the doctor’s but they just say that chest infections are normal in winter.’ She gave a shrug. ‘But I know there’s something wrong. When you’re a mother you have a sense about these things. An instinct.’
