Autumn Dreams at Mermaids Point, page 18
‘Join in, Em!’ Tom wiggled his extended fingers towards her.
‘You’re all mad!’ With a flip of her long, blonde hair and a look of absolute disgust, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.
Nerissa exchanged a look with Tom, and they burst out laughing.
‘I think we’ve just been told off,’ he said, holding onto the table as he pretended to be out of breath from their dancing exertions.
‘Oh, you get used to it.’ Max said it in such a blasé way that Nerissa couldn’t help laughing all over again. As she watched Tom grab his son and the pair mock wrestle around the kitchen, her heart gave a funny little twist. She rubbed the spot with the heel of her hand, hoping to drive it away. Damn Sylvia for putting stupid ideas in her head.
19
After an initial flurry of appointments, Tom found things settling down into an easy routine at the surgery. Most of his first couple of weeks had been people wanting to check in and welcome him to the village while taking his measure. He got the feeling he was probably the talk of the place – it had certainly felt that way when he was stopped in the street every time he ventured outside the surgery walls. As they moved into October, he was recognising more faces when he was greeted by name everywhere he went, but the sense of familiarity still felt a bit strange at times.
There were several areas of improvement he’d identified already, and the most important one was around the lack of specialist women’s health support. When it came to sexual and reproductive help, it seemed like Malcolm had farmed his patients out to the regional health clinic, but that was a good half an hour’s drive away. He wanted the residents of the Point to be able to access as many services as possible under the one roof. They certainly had room in the surgery for regular health visitor sessions. He was already in discussions with the county’s sexual health service about one of their nurses coming in for at least a couple of days a month to offer on-site appointments. In the long run, he hoped to recruit a full-time practice nurse, but he wanted to get a bit more of a feel for the needs of the community before he committed to that.
The phone on his desk buzzed and Tom shook off his wandering thoughts to answer it. ‘Hi Nerissa.’
‘Donald Turner’s here for his ten-thirty appointment.’
Tom glanced at the clock on the wall. Like most of his recent attendees, Donald was in good time. ‘Thanks, I’ll be out shortly.’
He took time to read through the man’s most recent history. Like a lot of men in his age group there were a few weight concerns and a blood pressure issue. He checked the latest prescription notes, frowning over the outdated medication listed. It wasn’t the first time he’d come across something similar. He was trying hard not to be too much of a new broom and change everything to the way he would’ve done it, but Donald looked like a prime candidate for statins. As far as Tom could see, there wasn’t anything in his notes to indicate so much as a discussion about it.
Locking his screen, Tom headed to the reception area. The custom in London had been for patients to be directed to the right room, but he liked adding a more personal touch to things. Now he was the boss rather than a cooperating partner, he could do what he wanted with little things like this.
Apart from a red-faced gentleman sitting awkwardly in the chair nearest the door, the waiting area was empty. There was a buggy parked in the corner where there were a few toys to keep little ones occupied and when he looked over at Nerissa it was to find her cooing at a very small child sitting in her lap.
She glanced up and raised the baby’s hand to give him a wave. ‘Say hello to Dr Tom.’
‘I’ll be right with you,’ Tom said to the waiting man, then crossed over to the desk. ‘Hello,’ he said, bending forward so he didn’t loom over the child. ‘What’s your name?’
‘This is Samuel.’ Nerissa patted the little boy’s head. ‘He’s not been feeling very well, have you, darling?’
‘Poor thing.’ Tom touched the back of his hand to the boy’s forehead. He was a bit warm, but that might be because he was bundled up in about six layers. ‘We’ll soon have you right.’ He smiled up at Nerissa and mouthed ‘Donald?’ with a sideways glance at the waiting man. She nodded and he returned to the waiting area, offering his hand as the man stood up. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, I’m Dr Nelson.’
The man shook his hand. ‘Donald Turner. I just need a repeat on my prescription. I normally get it straight from the chemist, but I was told I had to come in for an appointment.’ He sounded a bit disgruntled, as though resenting what he thought was a waste of time.
He wasn’t the first reluctant patient, and he wouldn’t be the last, but Tom was not prepared to dispense prescriptions without meeting the patients first. ‘Well, I appreciate your time. Come on through, now.’
Having led the way into his surgery and closed the door behind them, Tom indicated the chair beside his desk while he washed his hands at the sink.
‘So, how’ve you been?’ he asked as he resumed his seat.
‘Fine. Like I said, I just need a repeat prescription. I’m not a time-waster when it comes to things like seeing the doctor. Too many people rush up here at the slightest thing. We’ve raised a generation of malingerers.’ He shook his head, the ruddy hue of his cheeks darkening several shades.
‘No one who wants to speak to me is wasting my time,’ Tom said in as gentle a tone as he could muster. ‘Support services in small villages like this are few and far between, so I’m happy to see anyone who needs a chat – regardless of whether there’s an urgent clinical need.’ He unlocked his computer, then turned back to Donald. ‘I’m making a point of seeing everyone as their current prescriptions come up for renewal, not just you. I want to put a face to the name, have a quick chat and give you a once-over.’ He glanced back at the screen. ‘It says here you haven’t been in for a physical appointment for the past eighteen months.’
‘Hasn’t been any need,’ Donald harrumphed. ‘Doc sorted me out with my pills and I’ve been right as rain ever since.’
‘I’m sure that’s the case, but I’d still like to run a few basic checks. If you can take your jacket off and roll up your sleeve, please.’
With a near constant grumbling from Donald, Tom managed to run through the basics with a blood pressure check, weight, eyes, et cetera. He was just about to roll down his sleeve when Tom caught sight of an angry patch of reddened skin on Donald’s elbow.
‘Hold on a tick, let me have a look at that.’
Donald huffed. ‘It’s nothing. Flares up now and then.’ He stood still and allowed Tom to take a look.
‘And what do you put on it?’
‘Nothing. Well, a bit of Vaseline when it gets sore.’ He pulled his arm away and started rolling down his sleeve. ‘Doc says it’s fine.’
Tom tried not to grind his teeth. ‘I’m sure Malcolm gave you his best advice, but as your records say, it’s been over eighteen months since you were last in the surgery.’
Donald huffed a laugh. ‘I saw him the other night and he had a quick look. It’s fine.’ He reached for his jacket and shrugged back into it. ‘Look, I’ve got work to be doing, can I get my prescription now?’
Tom resumed his seat as he tried to understand the implications of what Donald had just told him. ‘You spoke to Malcolm and he offered you medical advice?’
‘No need to make it sound so hoity-toity. I had a pint with him the other night and he took a look, that’s all. Don’t know why you’re making such a fuss about everything.’ Donald sat back in his seat, arms folded across his chest, the look on his face saying what he thought of Tom wasting his time.
Keeping his cool, Tom tapped a few notes into the computer, then clicked through to the prescribing section. He waited for the printout, checked and signed it, then slid it towards Donald, keeping his fingers pressed on the paper so the other man couldn’t snatch it away. ‘I want to try you on something slightly different. It should do the same job as your previous tablets, it’s just a bit newer on the market.’
‘Newer doesn’t necessarily mean better,’ Donald said sourly. ‘I told you I’m fine on what I’m taking now.’
Tom retrieved a second printout. ‘This is some information about your new medication, and there’s results from a study on the other side which shows it’s improved effectiveness.’ He folded the sheet and tucked it under the prescription. ‘I’ve also prescribed you a corticosteroid cream which should help calm that eczema down. Use it two or three times a day as per the instructions on the leaflet.’
‘Steroids? Isn’t that what weightlifters use? You won’t be catching me down the gym anytime!’ Donald laughed as he scooped up the papers and pocketed them all.
More’s the pity. Tom decided that was an argument for another day. It would take time for Donald and some of the others to come around, and Tom didn’t want to put him off by going in all guns blazing on their first meeting. ‘I’ll give you a call in a couple of weeks to see how you’re getting on with the new medication. If you’ve got any questions or concerns, then pick up the phone anytime, or pop in the surgery.’
‘All right, Doc.’ Donald’s tone said he wouldn’t be doing either any time soon.
Holding back a sigh, Tom showed the older man out, shook hands with him and spoke to the young woman who he assumed was Samuel’s mother as she was now holding the grizzling child and rubbing his back. Tom would’ve liked to take a bit of time to get his system ready, but she looked worried and the baby was not at all happy.
‘Take him on through,’ he said, giving her a reassuring smile. ‘And I’ll be right behind you.’
He waited until she’d steered the buggy one-handed down the corridor before leaning over the reception desk.
‘What’s Samuel’s mother’s name?’ he murmured to Nerissa.
‘Molly. First-time mother, bit of a worrier, but then her mum always fussed over everything.’
Tom flashed her a grin. It was very handy having her to rely on for the inside track on everyone. ‘Cheers.’ He turned away, then turned back. ‘Do you mind keeping an eye on the kids tonight?’
Nerissa raised her brows but shook her head. ‘It’s fine. Have you got an out-of-hours appointment?’ She turned towards the computer. ‘I haven’t got a note of anything.’
‘No, it’s more of social thing.’
‘Oh, going out dancing?’
Tom’s mind immediately filled with visions of her jumping around in the kitchen, her raven hair flying as she held hands with Max and spun to the music. Laughter. She’d looked like laughter, and joy, and a warmth he’d wanted to cup in his palms and protect.
‘Tom?’
Realising he’d been staring at her too long, Tom took a step back. ‘I’m going to the pub.’ At her look of amused surprise, he shook his head. ‘Not what you think, I’ll explain later.’
While he sympathised if his predecessor was struggling a bit to let go of the reins, he and Malcolm needed to have a quiet little chat about boundaries. And while he was out, he’d better take some time to give himself a mental pep talk about boundaries of a different kind.
The Sailor’s Rest was a lot quieter than the last time Tom had set foot in there now the summer crowds had gone and the weather had taken a turn. Seeing the array of coats hanging from the hooks just inside the door, Tom took his cue and removed his soaking-wet anorak, shaking it out of the door to remove the worst of the moisture, before finding a hook to leave it on. A dark mat he didn’t remember stretched across the entrance, so he made a point of wiping his feet, too, before stepping onto the polished hardwood floor.
A couple of tables were occupied, but the majority of the clientele were stationed at various points around the square bar area which dominated the back wall of the pub. Malcolm was in what Tom guessed might be his usual spot on the right-hand side of the bar. Though it was tempting to make a beeline straight for him, Tom decided a more casual approach might be in order, so he found a space further along the bar and waited.
Pete, the landlord, caught his eye over the pump and gave him a nod to say he’d be with him, and Tom smiled in return.
‘Evening, Dr Tom.’
Tom didn’t recognise the man a couple of stools down from him who’d leaned forward and raised his pint in Tom’s direction, but he was getting used to that now. Resting his elbow on the bar, he turned to face the man who greeted him and said, ‘Evening. Filthy night out there.’
The man nodded. ‘First of many before the autumn’s out.’ He gave Tom a bit of sly grin. ‘That’ll teach you to view the Point when she’s wearing her summer best.’
Tom laughed. ‘I think you’re right there, but I’ve no regrets.’
‘Yet.’ The wry interjection came from another man sitting further along and they all laughed.
‘Well, at least I know what to expect now,’ Tom said just as Pete finished serving and moved towards him. He ordered a bottle of alcohol-free lager, which raised an eyebrow until Tom lifted the mobile he’d set on the bar in front of him. ‘On call.’
‘Then this one is on the house, Dr Tom,’ Pete said as he placed the bottle in front of him.
‘Oh no, I couldn’t, I didn’t mean… I wasn’t fishing for a freebie or anything!’ By the time he’d stuttered to a stop, most of the men at the bar were either grinning or outright laughing.
‘Get on with yourself,’ Pete said, shaking his head. ‘No one thinks you were, but in a small place like this we have to look after those that look after us. Enjoy your drink.’ And with that he wandered off to serve another customer.
‘Come sit here, Dr Tom.’ The first man who’d engaged him patted the empty stool next to him. ‘Save me cricking my neck trying to talk to you.’
Tom took the stool and offered his free hand to the man. ‘It’s just Tom.’
The man shook his hand. ‘I’m Tony and you might as well get used to being Dr Tom because that’s what the village has settled on. You can’t be Doc because, well, Doc is Doc’. He nodded across the bar to where Malcolm was sitting. ‘But you’re still a doc, so Dr Tom it is.’
‘Fair enough.’ Because, really, it sounded like he’d already lost the battle on this one. ‘What do you do, Tony?’
‘I run a boat tour business from the harbour.’ He paused to take a sip of his drink before continuing. ‘You’ll have already met the rest of my mob, what with Nerissa living with you, and all.’
Tom decided he definitely didn’t want to get into a conversation correcting that perception of his living arrangements because any caveat he tried to put on it would likely only stoke rumours neither one of them needed to deal with. ‘You’re a Morgan?’ He didn’t mean to sound surprised, but the man next to him looked nothing like Nerissa or Andrew, with his sandy hair turning white at the temples.
Tony laughed. ‘Not exactly, Sylvia’s my sister, though Andrew and I’ve been thick as thieves since we were lads, so might as well be considered brothers. Our Nick works for me on the boats.’
‘He’s a good lad,’ Tom said, thinking about how much time both Nick and Jake had spent playing with Max in the garden, as well as how hard they’d worked with the unpacking.
‘He has his moments.’ Tony grinned around the glass he raised to his lips. ‘So,’ he said when he set his pint down once more. ‘What brings you out on a rotten night like this?’
‘I haven’t had much of a chance to get out and about so I thought it’d be good to show my face.’ He cast a surreptitious glance towards Malcolm, then leaned closer to Tony. ‘I heard Doc might be running a bit of an impromptu clinic here.’
Tony laughed. ‘He’s always made himself available to people, wherever he is around the village. I guess after doing a job like that for so many years it’s a struggle for him to let it all go.’ He rubbed a hand across his chin, expression thoughtful. ‘My dad was the same when he finally stepped down as skipper on our trawler. Used to drive me bloody crackers the way he questioned every little detail of what I was doing. He used to corner the crew and demand a full recounting of our trips, then come and bend my ear if he felt I’d made the wrong choice about something.’ He shook his head. ‘I miss the old goat, but bloody hell was I glad that he wasn’t around by the time I decided it was time to sell up and switch to what I’m doing now.’
His expression was so bleak, Tom reached out to touch his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. ‘Change is hard.’
Tony barked a laugh. ‘You’re not wrong there. Still, it was past time, and I think Sylvia might have done for me if I’d kept Nick out on the trawler for too much longer. I won’t lie, we had a rough couple of years when we got washed out and the tourists stayed away, but thanks to the mermaid and the sunshine this has been our best summer yet.’
‘She brought a lot of luck to us,’ one of the other men said. ‘The mermaids always come when the Point needs them the most.’
Several more raised their glasses in toast.
Bemused, but not wanting to insult anyone, Tom leaned in towards Tony once more. ‘I thought the mermaid turned out to be that pop star.’
Tony grinned as he pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Don’t spoil the story now, Dr Tom. I expect that most legends have a much simpler explanation, but we’re men of the sea and always have been. Let us have our tall tales.’
‘Fair enough.’ Tom tipped his bottle towards Tony’s glass. ‘I’ll drink to that. Mind you,’ he said, setting his beer down once more, ‘I think half the reason I was able to persuade the kids to give it a go moving here was the prospect they might run into Aurora Storm.’
Tony shook his head. ‘Been and gone, I’m afraid. Took my nephew’s heart with her when she left, so maybe there’s something in those mermaid myths after all.’
Nick hadn’t struck Tom as being someone suffering from a broken heart, but then again he’d perfected his public mask after losing Anna. Everything was about perception, about choosing what to share and what to hide away. Tom had been a little too good at hiding his feelings away and almost cut himself off in the process. He hoped Nick wouldn’t do the same.
