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‘Oh, Dr Anderson, I’ve had the most awful pains this morning. Ever since I hung out the washing. I didn’t know whether I should just drive straight to the hospital but Mick has an interview later this morning and I didn’t want to drag him there on a wild-goose chase. I know surgery has finished, but have you got a minute?’
Obviously not for both at the same time, Gio reflected with something close to amusement. No wonder Alice looked tired. She never stopped working. Surgery was finished and still the patients were crowding in. Had he really thought that he was in for a quiet summer?
He glanced towards the door, half expecting someone else to appear, but there was no one. ‘Point me in the direction of a pair of Tilley’s forceps and I’ll deal with the fishbone,’ he said calmly, and Alice gave a brief nod, her eyes lingering on Cathy’s pale face.
‘In your consulting room. Forceps are in the top cupboard above the sink. Thanks.’
Her lack of hesitation impressed him. She might be a workaholic but at least she didn’t have trouble delegating, Gio mused as he introduced himself to the couple and ushered them into the consulting room.
‘If you’ll have a seat, Mr…?’ He lifted an eyebrow and the woman gave a stiff smile.
‘Norman. Giles and Betty Norman.’ Her tone was crisp and more than a little chilly, but he smiled easily.
‘You’ll have to forgive me for not knowing who you are. This is only my second day here.’
Betty Norman gave a sniff. ‘We run the newsagent across the harbour. If you were local, you’d know that. There have been Normans running the newsagent for five generations.’ She looked at him suspiciously, her gaze bordering on the unfriendly. ‘That’s a foreign accent I’m hearing and you certainly don’t look English.’
‘That’s because I’m Italian.’ Gio adjusted the angle of the light. ‘And I may be new to the village, Mrs Norman, but I’m not new to medicine so you need have no worries on that score.’ He opened a cupboard and selected the equipment he was going to need. ‘Mr Norman, I just need to shine a light in your mouth so that I can take a better look at the back of your throat.’
Betty dropped her handbag and folded her arms. ‘Well, I just hope you can manage to get the wretched thing out. Some surgeries insist you go to A and E for something like this but we have a business to run. A and E is a sixty-minute round trip at the best of times and then there’s the waiting. Dr Anderson is good at this sort of thing. Perhaps we ought to wait until she’s finished with young Cathy.’
Aware that he was being tested, Gio bit back a smile, not remotely offended. ‘I don’t think that’s a trip you’re going to be making today, Mrs Norman,’ he said smoothly, raising his head briefly from his examination to acknowledge her concerns. ‘And I don’t think you need to wait to see Dr Anderson. I can understand that you’re wary of a new doctor but I can assure you that I’m more than up to the job. Why don’t you let me try and then we’ll see what happens?’
She stared at him, her shoulders tense and unyielding, her mouth pursed in readiness to voice further disapproval, and then he smiled at her and the tension seemed to ooze out of her and her mouth relaxed slightly into a smile of her own.
‘Stupid of me to cook fish for breakfast,’ she muttered weakly, and Gio returned to his examination.
‘Cooking is never stupid, Mrs Norman,’ he murmured as he depressed her husband’s tongue to enable him to visualise the tonsil. ‘And fish is the food of the gods, especially when it’s eaten fresh from the sea. I see the bone quite clearly. Removing it should present no difficulty whatsoever.’
He reached for the forceps, adjusted the light and removed the fishbone with such speed and skill that his patient barely coughed.
‘There.’ He placed the offending bone on a piece of gauze. ‘There’s the culprit. The back of your throat has been slightly scratched, Mr Norman, so I’m going to give you an antibiotic and ask you to come back in a day for me to just check your throat. If necessary I will refer you to the ENT team at the hospital, but I don’t think it will come to that.’
Mr Norman stared at the bone and glanced at his wife, an expression of relief on his face.
‘Well—thank goodness.’
She picked up her handbag, all her icy reserve melted away. ‘Thank the doctor, not goodness.’ She gave Gio a nod of approval. ‘Welcome to Smuggler’s Cove. I think you’re going to fit in well.’
‘Thank you.’ He smiled, his mind on Alice and her soft mouth. ‘I think so, too.’
Alice watched from the doorway, clocked the killer smile, the Latin charm, and noted Betty’s response with a sigh of relief and a flicker of exasperation. Why was it that the members of her sex were so predictable?
She’d briefly examined Cathy and what she’d seen had been enough to convince her that a trip to hospital was necessary for a more detailed check-up. Then she’d returned to the consulting room, prepared to help Gio, only to find that her help clearly wasn’t required.
Not only had he removed the fishbone, which she knew could often be a tricky procedure, but had obviously succeeded in winning over the most difficult character in the village.
It amused her that even Betty Norman wasn’t immune to a handsome Italian with a sexy smile and for a moment she found herself remembering David’s comment about women going weak at the knees. Then she allowed herself a smile. Not every woman. Her knees were still functioning as expected, despite Mary’s interference.
She could see he was handsome, and she was still walking with no problem.
Clearing her throat, she walked into the room. ‘Everything OK?’
But she could see that everything was more than OK. Betty had melted like Cornish ice cream left out in the midday sun.
‘Everything is fine.’ Betty glanced at her watch, all smiles now. She patted her hair and straightened her blouse. ‘I can be back behind the counter before that girl has a chance to make a mistake. Nice meeting you Dr…I didn’t catch your name.’
‘Moretti.’ He extended a lean, bronzed hand. ‘Gio Moretti.’
