The Doctor's Christmas Gift. Jennifer Taylor
realised that her expression was so revealing. Unless it was just that Matthew noticed things that other people missed.
The idea unnerved her and she rushed to speak. ‘Lauren seemed to get very defensive when I suggested she might be pregnant. I did wonder if there was a problem in that area and if maybe she and her husband had been trying for a baby but not had much success.’
‘It’s certainly a possibility,’ Matthew agreed. ‘When you say defensive, though, what do you mean exactly?’
‘Oh, just that she denied they were trying for a baby and said that it was the last thing they needed at the moment. I can’t explain why it struck me as odd but it did.’
Catherine frowned as she tried to work it out. She heard Matthew sigh and looked at him expectantly. ‘What?’
‘Just that it isn’t easy to help people when they won’t tell you what’s really wrong. It’s one of the curses of working in a middle-class area like this. People can’t bear anyone to think that their lives aren’t perfect. They seem to see it as some sort of failing on their part, as though they have a duty to maintain the right image.’
Catherine shrugged, more than a little surprised by the observation. ‘Most people tend to be like that, surely. They put up a front.’
‘To a degree, yes. However, in an area like this, where image and status are so important, it can be a real problem. Maybe Lauren can’t have children. Maybe her husband doesn’t want them. Who knows? When your life seems perfect to all intents and purposes, you tend to paper over the cracks—hide the bad bits to keep up appearances in front of your friends.’ He shrugged. ‘The problem is that the bad bits have a way of revealing themselves one way or another.’
‘And Lauren’s dizzy spells could be an outlet for what is going wrong in her life?’ Catherine nodded thoughtfully as she considered that possibility. In a way, it was only what she had been wondering, although Matthew had put a slightly different spin on the idea.
‘Yes. If there is no physical cause for her illness then we should try to find a psychological cause.’
‘I did think of that. I asked Lauren if there was anything worrying her but once again I have to use that same word and say that she became extremely defensive.’ Catherine shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to do for the best. What about her husband? Do you know anything about him?’
‘Not a lot. I’ve only met him once when they registered with us. He came in for a new-patient check-up.’ Matthew shrugged. ‘He seemed a pleasant enough chap, a bit full of himself but that’s nothing unusual in his line of work.’
‘What does he do? I imagine it’s something quite high-powered.’
‘Peter makes documentaries for television, I believe. I know he was telling me about something he was working on, but I don’t recall it ever being broadcast. Although I’m not the best person to ask when it comes to intellectual programmes.’
He grinned. ‘My viewing tends to consist mainly of children’s programmes. I’m a whiz when it comes to the latest cartoons. I reckon I could win top prize on one of those game shows so long as my specialist subject was the latest cartoon hero to hit the screens!’
Catherine couldn’t help laughing. ‘A talent like that should be nurtured. Not everyone your age could make such a claim.’
‘Don’t!’ He winced. ‘I have a birthday coming up and I’m rather sensitive when it comes to the subject of age.’
It was obvious that he didn’t mean a word of it and why should he? she thought, taking stock of his muscular physique. Matthew was in his prime and many men his age—and younger—would be delighted to be in such excellent shape.
She looked away when she realised where her mind was wandering again. She could hardly believe it had happened a second time. ‘On the surface, then, they seem to be a couple who have everything going for them,’ she observed, deciding it was safer to stick to work.
‘On the surface, yes. But you know as well as I do that it’s impossible to judge by appearances.’ Matthew frowned. ‘I remember Glenda saying one time after Lauren had been to see her that she felt that there was something the woman wasn’t telling her.’
‘I got that impression, too. How strange. I had this feeling that she wanted to tell me what was wrong but that she was…well, afraid to do so.’ Catherine sighed. ‘I shouldn’t have let her rush off like that, should I?’
‘You couldn’t have stopped her,’ he protested, then stopped as Margaret, one of the receptionists, popped her head round the door.
‘I hate to disturb you, Matt, but there’s a queue outside.’ She shot a pointed look at her watch. ‘Your eleven o’clock appointment has arrived and your eleven-fifteen…’
‘OK. I can take a hint!’ Matthew laughed as he got up. ‘Anyway, you can blame Catherine this time, not me. She’s the culprit.’
‘Me?’ Catherine echoed in astonishment.
‘Uh-huh. I was so fascinated by our conversation that I didn’t realise so much time had elapsed. Ergo, it’s all your fault!’
He gave her a decidedly wicked smile then sauntered out of the room. Catherine hurried to explain when she saw the speculation on Margaret’s face. It was obvious the other woman had completely misunderstood Matt’s remark.
‘Matt…Dr Fielding…meant he was fascinated by a case we’ve been discussing,’ she gabbled, her tongue tripping over itself in her haste to set matters straight.
‘Of course, Dr Lewis.’
Margaret’s tone was so bland that the words conveyed exactly the opposite meaning they should have done. Catherine felt heat suffuse her when she realised that the receptionist didn’t believe a word she’d said. Did Margaret think that Matt had been wasting his time chatting her up instead of seeing to his patients?
It was on the tip of her tongue to assure Margaret that wasn’t the case when she suddenly thought better of it. Wasn’t there a saying about protesting too much?
‘I’ll send in your next patient, then, shall I, Dr Lewis?’ Margaret asked in the same bland tone.
Catherine nodded because it seemed an awful lot safer. No protestations would pass her lips, no explanations, nothing. She wasn’t going to give the staff at the surgery anything to gossip about!
‘Has she gone?’ Matt glanced furtively along the corridor as he sidled back into her room. He treated Catherine to a conspiratorial smile. ‘I should have warned you that Margaret is a real termagant when it comes to her beloved appointment system. You dice with death if you mess it up! Anyway, I daren’t risk getting in her bad books again so I’ll see you after surgery. In the kitchen around twelve-thirty. OK?’
‘I…um. Why? I mean, what do you need to see me about?’ she demanded, her voice rising by at least an octave. She cleared her throat, striving hard to achieve her usual even tone. ‘There isn’t much we can do unless Lauren is prepared to tell us what is really wrong with her.’
‘There isn’t. However, it wasn’t Lauren I wanted to talk to you about.’
Matthew cast another wary glance over his shoulder when the door leading from the waiting room opened. ‘I need to ask your advice this time, Catherine. The old two heads theory and all that. So, I’ll see you in the kitchen later. And don’t let Margaret know that I’ve been in here again or she’ll have me shot for dereliction of duty!’
He disappeared and a moment later Catherine heard him greeting his patient with some quip or other. The sound of their laughter was abruptly cut off as his consulting-room door closed.
She took a deep breath, added another for good measure, then went for the hat trick. It didn’t work. Maybe Matthew’s invitation to meet him in the kitchen hadn’t had quite the same ring to it as Meet me under the clock and