The Perfect Treatment. Rebecca Lang
a feeling which was reasonably alien to her. Yet at the same time she had an instinctive feeling that he had made that remark to find out if she were married. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself fiercely. What’s the matter with you? Usually her internal dialogue was not as intense as this…He must be getting to her. Or she was getting broody…or something.
Maybe he, too, was one of the new breed, Abby thought, with a surge of bitterness as the image of Dr Ryles’s exhausted features came even more vividly into her consciousness. Maybe he was one of the slash-and-burn brigade who got rid of people without any human considerations, treating them like items in statistical tables.
‘I expect residents to be here on time, Dr Gibson,’ he was going on. ‘Even the family practice residents. I trust that is not too much to ask?’ he continued.
‘Um…no…of course not. I have a good reason for being late.’ And she was getting cynical, too.
‘Great,’ he said. ‘Er…Dr Gibson, are you really with me? I have a distinct impression that you’re operating on another plane.’
Blake Contini was aware that he was staring, but couldn’t help himself. The girl in front of him—she seemed like a girl to him—had thick, dark chestnut brown hair with bronze highlights and a slight curl to it all over. Little wisps of hair clung attractively to her creamy neck. He had an absurd desire to touch that neck, to breathe in the scent of her hair…
He also recognized the veiled sarcasm in his own voice. That seemed to have become habitual with him these days when he met attractive women—intelligent, capable, womanly women, who were not afraid of their own femininity—who might pose some sort of threat to his outward calm.
Kaitlin had been like that once. Her unwelcome image floated before his mind’s eye—blonde, pale, like an icemaiden now. With the image came the familiar sharp regret…
He disliked himself for his sarcasm as it represented him as something he was not. It reminded him of his own need. Yet it was a useful defense. He knew instinctively that Abigail Gibson was not a man-hater.
Several rejoinders came to Abby’s mind, but she bit them back. ‘Let me explain,’ she said. With few words, she described what had taken place after she had found Dr Ryles collapsed in the corridor, ending with, ‘Since you’re new here, you may not know Dr Ryles.’
‘On the contrary,’ he said, his face suddenly stiff with concern and shock, ‘I know him well. I knew him before I came here to University Hospital. Have you checked up on how he is?’
‘No, of course not. I came straight here.’ And you’ve been harassing me ever since, she wanted to add.
‘Poor old Will.’ He murmured the words, as though to himself. ‘And an unfortunate experience for you first thing in the morning.’ To her surprise, he reached forward to touch her arm commiseratingly. ‘You probably saved his life.’
‘People were rather scarce.’
‘I might have known something like this would happen,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘He’s been under so much stress lately, and he pushes himself much too hard.’
‘He looked so exhausted when I found him,’ she agreed, ‘I felt so desperately sorry for him.’
‘Yes, he would be exhausted,’ Dr Contini said softly, almost as though he had predicted that Dr Ryles would have a heart attack, making Abby speculate on whether they were actually close friends.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, picking up nuances. ‘Were you, perhaps, aware that he was ill, that he might have an infarct?’
‘No…’ he said, almost absently, ‘Not that. He’s been under a lot of strain.’
Blake Contini regretted his sarcasm even more. The eyes that looked back at him frankly were green, large and expressive in a heart-shaped face; there was none of the calculation that he so frequently saw in the expressions of many women he met for the first time.
Across her pert nose, almost classic-shaped, was a faint band of freckles that spilled over onto her cheeks, giving her a mischievous look, rather like a female Huckleberry Finn…one of his boyhood heroes, who now seemed very far away. He found his eyes moving automatically to her mouth, to her lips that were full, beautifully shaped, soft-looking. The impression of her, of softness, produced a sense of dissonance, imposed, as it was, on his acute concern about Will Ryles.
‘Um…the first case, the one that I missed,’ Abby said, looking at the computer printout he had given her, now feeling the pressure of time. ‘I’m sorry about that. I would like to catch up—’
‘The patient is on 2 East, so maybe you can get to see him today. I shall be seeing him myself at about eleven o’clock—maybe you can manage to meet me there, Dr Gibson,’ he said. ‘I can go over a few things with you. I may want to test your group on this particular case later in the year.’
‘Thank you. I would appreciate that,’ she said formally. ‘General practice isn’t exactly easy, Dr Contini, even though you specialists might think so. We’ve got to be good at everything, not just one thing. And keep up to date on it all.’
‘I didn’t say it was easy, neither do I think so,’ he countered. If he was surprised by her remarks, he hid it well.
‘Start as you mean to go on,’ her mother had always told her. While she understood that to be an aphorism generally referring to marriage, it was, she considered, a good bit of advice to keep in mind at the start of any relationship.
‘I’ll try to get there,’ Abby said stiffly, very conscious suddenly that they were alone in the room, that she was inappropriately attracted to him. ‘I am expected at a family practice clinic right now—Dr Wharton’s clinic in Outpatients.’
‘I’m going to Outpatients myself. I’ll call Dr Wharton and arrange for you to have time off at eleven o’clock,’ he said. Then, making up his mind about something, he looked at his watch with a quick flick of the wrist. ‘If you would like to see Dr Ryles as much as I would, I can call the outpatient clinic, tell them you’re going to be late, then we could visit him briefly in the coronary care unit.’
Abby nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you. I would like to see him, find out what’s happened.’
‘Sorry about my obtuseness earlier.’ He had the grace to apologize. ‘I had, of course, no idea.’
‘No,’ Abby said quietly, managing to imply by her tone that one should not make flash judgements. He was very attractive, she acknowledged again, lowering her eyes to the paper she held. There was even a hint that he would, perhaps, have a natural charm if he were to let himself go a bit. Not that she was one to talk…
‘I’ll see if I can set it up,’ he said, ‘and find out where Dr Ryles is.’
‘I hope he’s survived,’ she ventured.
‘So do I.’
As he strode over to a telephone in the room she watched him, her mind active. His reaction to her news, for someone new to the hospital, had been greater than she had expected. She wondered where he would have met Dr Ryles, who had been at University Hospital for at least twenty-five years.
All at once, she had a very odd, very powerful premonition that Dr Contini would figure large in her life…and not just on the professional level. The feeling was so strong, so peculiar, that she shivered. Telling herself that she was being ridiculous, she turned away from him to stare out the window, away from his disturbing presence.
It wouldn’t do for her to feel anything of that nature for her senior colleague. She had made a pact with herself not to get involved with anyone before she had at least finished her post-graduate training and got herself established in her first permanent job as an MD. There was no time for real romance; she had to earn a living, had to give something back to her parents who had supported her so unselfishly all her life, among other things helping to meet the financially crippling fees for medical school. They were going