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‘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.’
Evanna glanced towards the little girl but she was playing happily with the basket of toys in the corner of the room, apparently oblivious to the conversation. ‘And you say that she’s out of breath the whole time.’
‘I’ve watched her playing with other kids. She’s different. She’s just so out of breath when she runs around,’ Jenny said quietly. ‘And it seems to be getting worse.’
Could it be asthma? ‘Has she ever suffered from eczema?’ Evanna asked a series of questions and then stood up. ‘I’m going to see if one of our doctors is available to see her.’
She lifted the phone and spoke to Janet who told her that Logan was with his last patient. She waited for his light to flash on and tapped on his door.
‘I wondered if you could see a patient for me.’ She was trying desperately to think of him as a doctor and not as a man. A man who was currently fantasising about some unknown but incredibly fortunate woman.
‘Who is it?’
‘Helen Price. They moved into the Garrett property in the spring. She’s extremely breathless on exertion. Funnily enough, Ann Carne mentioned her to me. She wondered if she was asthmatic and the mother thinks that, too, but—’
‘But you don’t think so.’
‘Well, obviously you need to take a look at her but, no, I’m not sure about asthma. There’s no family history of atopy, no wheezing and no night cough. On the other hand, she is getting chest infections every winter.’ Evanna broke off and gave an apologetic smile. ‘Look, you’re the doctor. I just have a funny feeling about her.’
‘Then I’ll see her, of course. Send her in.’ His eyes lingered on hers. ‘Why don’t you stay while I examine her?’
Evanna nodded. ‘I’ll do that. And I think we ought to invite Jenny, the mother, to the beach barbecue. Her husband works away a lot and I think she’s a bit lonely. Janet doesn’t think she’s really settled into island life.’
‘Invite her. Good idea.’
‘Are you going?’ She didn’t know what made her ask the question. He didn’t usually go. And she shouldn’t care whether he was going or not.
He studied her face, his blue eyes speculative. ‘Probably.’
And suddenly Evanna wished that she hadn’t asked the question. Of course he’d be going. Why hadn’t she thought of that? The beach barbecue would be the perfect opportunity to deepen his relationship with the woman he fancied. And that was good, she told herself firmly. Last year he hadn’t attended and she’d spent the entire evening worrying about him, alone in his beautiful big house with a six-month-old baby for company. She’d left early and taken him a plate of food and they’d sat in his garden, chatting about all sorts of things. Normal things. Things designed to distract him from the death of his wife.
