Out of Practice Read online

Page 3


  It was hardly the most auspicious of beginnings and Holly began to wonder what she’d taken on, or indeed whether she would ever fit in here. At least at the hospital, the medical staff had all been thrown together into a kind of siege mentality, where bonds of friendship quickly formed and were not so easily broken. Shared adversity had indeed increased intimacy among her colleagues – often beyond the bounds of ‘civilian’ acceptability.

  At least by consciously stepping out of the intensity, Holly knew that her statistical likelihood of death, divorce and depression had halved. Whether spending more time with Milo would counteract those statistical improvements, remained to be seen.

  Grace gave her shoulder a nudge and interrupted her train of thought, as the door to the doctors’ lounge swung open. ‘Now then, Holly, plaster on a smile and come with me. It’s time to play nice with Dr Bruce. But remember, he’s a suave old bugger, so don’t take any nonsense, and whatever you do, don’t mention the car!’

  ‘Dr Graham. How wonderful to see you again. I trust you’re settling in well.’ Henry Bruce stroked his pink silk tie and Holly could feel his eyes travelling appraisingly down her body. He seemed to have conveniently forgotten that he was the only partner to oppose Holly’s appointment and was now laying on the charm. ‘I am sorry we haven’t had chance to catch up. Busy-busy, you know.’

  ‘No problem,’ Holly replied, cradling her cup of coffee in front of her, subconsciously blocking Henry’s assessment of her physical attributes and creating a natural barrier between them. ‘Grace has been wonderful in showing me the ropes.’

  ‘Good, good. Obviously we’re a team here, but you may find that some of us are a little more on the ball than others, so my door is always open if you need to discuss anything. Not literally, of course!’ He leaned in closer as he laughed at his own feeble little joke and Holly could smell the coffee on his breath mingling with his potent aftershave.

  Holly suppressed a slight shudder as Henry’s little pink tongue darted out and moistened his lips. He certainly was Mr Smooth, standing there in his Savile Row suit and highly polished brogues. He looked as though he’d come straight from his Harley Street practice and he’d certainly look at home behind the wheel of his obscenely expensive Mercedes.

  Holly flushed at the thought of her deception and was about to confess all, when Dr Bruce clearly misinterpreted her blushes. ‘Any questions, Holly, I mean it, do come to me. Bright young thing like you though, won’t take you long to work out the lay of the land, will it?’ He placed a soft, manicured hand on her arm and gave a gentle squeeze.

  Holly awkwardly took a step back as he leaned yet further into her personal space. ‘That’s very kind, Dr Bruce. But I’m finding my feet already and as you rightly say, you have such a wonderful team here,’ she hesitated for a moment, slightly caught off guard, quietly longing to ‘accidentally’ spill her coffee down his front and tell him to Back Off. Politely, of course. ‘In fact,’ she said, finally managing to locate her resolve and looking him straight in the eye, ‘they have all gone out of their way to get me fully up to speed with everybody’s little foibles.’

  Dr Bruce looked at her sharply, but Holly just smiled innocently. She’d met his type before amongst Senior Doctors – give this one an inch and he’d certainly take a mile. She’d already heard rumours of his extra-marital activities and she had no desire to become his new pet. She was actually rather inclined to agree with Elsie Townsend’s earlier assessment.

  His face tightened, his advances clearly rebuffed, but then he just shrugged, ever the professional, ‘There’s a lot to be said for a small community, of course. What you sacrifice in privacy, you gain in intimacy.’ He gave her a long appraising look. ‘I happen to believe though, that this Practice could be more efficient if we stopped resting on our laurels and looked to the future. Simply delivering half the town’s population into this world and still dealing with their snivelling offspring twenty years later, doesn’t automatically make anyone the best doctor here. It’s not James Herriot, you know.’

  Holly followed his gaze towards the door where George Kingsley, the genial Senior Partner had ambled in with a smile and a kind word for everyone he passed. He’d been so lovely to her at the interview that Holly felt as though she already knew him, and his benevolent approach to The Practice made her like him even more.

  She jumped as Henry clasped her upper arm firmly and dropped his voice, coffee fumes still wafting warmly across Holly’s cheeks and the warmth of her cup now sandwiched between them. ‘Don’t make the mistake of confusing compassion and medical care, Holly. It’s all very well knowing the entire family history, but I think you’ll agree that this touchy feely approach to medicine can cloud the judgement. We’ll have a drink one evening and have a chat about it, shall we? I think we’ll be of a like mind, you and I, both being from a hospital background.’

  Holly took another step back, but Henry just leaned in closer. ‘It’s not a popularity contest, being a GP, Holly. It’s the curse of living in a small town, you see – your patients are also your neighbours, blah, blah, blah . . .’ He made a small winding motion with his hand, clearly dismissive of anyone who might have the temerity to disagree with him. ‘Take my word for it, you’ll find that keeping a bit of distance is more illuminating – helps you keep your perspective professionally.’

  Holly’s relief was palpable as Dan’s gravelly laugh interrupted them, ‘Do put her down, Henry. And how about you follow your advice about keeping a bit of distance?’ Dan fished the end of Henry’s expensive silk tie out of Holly’s cup of coffee and grinned. ‘Not quite dipping your pen in the company ink there, Henry, but ten out of ten for effort. Holly, all this time and you never said you took your coffee with a spoonful of smarmy lechery.’ Dan grinned cheerfully and patted Henry on the back. ‘Cheer up, Henry, surely even you can see that the delectable Dr Graham is off limits.’

  Henry drew himself up to his full height, which would have been more impressive if Dan didn’t still tower over him, even casually slouched against the doorframe. Muttering something about childish behaviour, Henry left the room, head held high and perfectly tailored shoulders firmly back. Without the handful of limp, stained pink silk in his hand and the seething expression on his face, he would have looked almost impressive.

  ‘Thank you,’ Holly said simply and with feeling.

  Dan just shrugged. ‘I’d like to tell you he’s harmless, but he just does seem to think he’s God’s gift to women sometimes, smarmy git, and he really does need to learn a bit of discretion.’ He grinned broadly. ‘Besides, anyone can see, you’re way out of his league.’

  Dan plucked Holly’s cup from her fingers and plonked it down beside them. ‘Now, come and say hello to a few friendlier faces. Oh, and Julia. You’ll need to meet her too . . .’

  Dan steered her across to the battered old sofas that formed a U-shape at one end of the room. ‘Now this reprobate is Taffy Jones, our ever-present locum and my best mate.’

  Dr Taffy Jones unfurled himself from his slumped position at the end of the sofa and stood up, holding out his hand for Holly to shake. He was tall and strapping and his hand enveloped Holly’s in a firm grip. ‘So you’re the infamous Holly Graham? It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.’

  His face, already welcoming and friendly, broke into an enormous grin. His soft Welsh lilt was strangely hypnotic and Holly was sure it must have melted the inhibitions of many a local girl. She was disgusted to find herself blushing yet again, not quite sure how to respond and feeling completely wrong-footed.

  ‘Don’t worry, Dr Graham, it’s all been good so far. Mostly, anyway. But your reputation does precede you, I’m afraid. Dan and the lovely Lizzie have been spilling the beans on all your youthful exploits. I do hope you’ll return the favour, I could use some dirt on our golden boy here.’ Although he was standing still and, Holly couldn’t help but notice, still holding her hand, the energy simply radiated from him. He was basically a spaniel, Holly decided, w
ith his eager expression, slightly chaotic hair and chocolate brown eyes. She felt her cheeks burning and panicked slightly as she realised that there were simply no words forthcoming from her addled brain.

  Luckily Dan stepped in to rescue her yet again. ‘Back in your box, Jones, and be nice to her, okay. She’s just had Henry Bruce leering all over her and I haven’t even introduced her to Julia yet.’

  ‘Understood,’ replied Taffy seriously, finally releasing Holly’s hand from his. ‘I shall be the soul of discretion and I certainly won’t take this opportunity to dish the dirt about Henry shagging young nurse Jade behind his wife’s back. And I certainly shall not let on, that until a few months ago, Dan and the terrifyingly ambitious Julia Channing were quite the hot item around here.’ His face was a picture of amused innocence and he gave Holly a conspiratorial smile that knocked the breath from her chest. ‘Now, was there anything else I’m supposed to be keeping quiet about?’

  Dan shook his head. ‘I give up, I really do.’ He sat down on one of the sofas and started rummaging around in the biscuit tin. He snaffled a couple and passed it over to Holly, who perched on the arm beside him. All the good ones were gone, she noted, casting aside half a Jammie Dodger and the broken corner of a chocolate Bourbon. Settling resignedly for a rich tea finger with the consistency of cardboard, she was frankly just glad of the distraction. Anything that meant she didn’t need to add to the speedy back and forth banter around her. They clearly were the best of friends, she decided, as the two men mocked each other mercilessly for her benefit.

  By the time she’d finished off her biscuit, she knew more about their personal lives than was probably healthy.

  Dan had clearly had a hideous break-up with Julia Channing. Holly was actually really looking forward to meeting her properly now, because the mental picture building from their descriptions was somewhere in the region of Cruella de Vil. She also got the impression that Dan wasn’t quite as together as he’d have her believe. There was the occasional sharp glance in Taffy’s direction that seemed to be warning him not to overstep. But, if Julia was even half as awful as Taffy maintained, it was hard to imagine Dan being too upset about the split.

  Holly didn’t miss the warning look from Taffy either, as Dan teased him for being the local Romeo. ‘Quite the heart-throb of the Larkford Rugby Club, aren’t you, Taffs?’ It seemed his commitment issues extended into his work life too – preferring to have the freedom and flexibility of a locum contract, despite working here almost every day. And it certainly seemed as though Taffy was not short of female company, if everything Dan was saying happened to be true, much though Taffy protested.

  An inexplicable wave of disappointment washed over Holly. She managed to smile and laugh along with the joke of course, but every time she looked over at him, Taffy’s gaze was resting on her. She felt a little stupid and embarrassed now, for imagining that it meant anything more than a friendly welcome.

  Holly was actually getting quite exasperated with herself. She really didn’t feel that she was putting her best foot forward today. She’d been nervous, of course, but she hadn’t expected to feel quite so drowningly overwhelmed. Obviously, it would take a little while to settle in – she was walking into a tight-knit practice, where the team’s personal and professional lives clearly overlapped. Grace, Dan and Taffy were going out of their way to put her at ease and to bring her into their circle, but Holly was getting frustrated. Here she was, tongue-tied and blushing like an imbecile. She wanted them to meet bright, witty, attractive Holly. So far today, she had less charisma and drive than a Victoria Sponge.

  With no warning, Dan suddenly stood up and strode across the lounge to where Julia Channing, the tall slender blonde, had made an entrance. She clearly wasn’t running short in the self-confidence department, thought Holly tetchily. Words were being exchanged and Julia was waving a day-glo Post-it in Dan’s face. Holly strained to hear what was being said, but Taffy reclaimed her attention.

  ‘It’s like watching a train wreck in slow-motion with those two. Personally, I can’t help thinking that to dislike each other quite so very much, there must still be something there . . .’

  Holly watched as Julia flicked a silken curtain of hair over her shoulder and, giving Dan one last disparaging look, she sashayed across the lounge towards them.

  ‘Incoming,’ muttered Taffy under his breath. ‘Brace, brace, brace.’

  Holly took a deep breath and willed herself to make a better showing. She didn’t wait for Dan to introduce her, but stood up and took a pace forward. ‘Dr Channing? Hi, I’m Holly Graham. We didn’t get chance to meet earlier.’ Remembering Julia’s earlier performance, Holly tried very hard not to let an edge creep into her voice.

  Julia herself was also clearly having issues with tone. She shot Dan another filthy look and forced a smile on to her face. ‘Yes, yes, lovely to have you here . . .’ Julia rattled off insincerely. ‘Hope you settle in okay . . . do feel free to ask if you’ve any questions . . . etcetera, etcetera . . .’ She turned pointedly to Dan, ignored Holly, and waved the Post-it at him. ‘Happy now?’

  From where Holly was standing, she could just make out Dan’s handwriting:

  Please welcome Holly to the team and FOR FUCK’S SAKE – BE NICE!

  Holly couldn’t help it; the pressure of the morning had clearly got to her. Rather than getting her hackles up, as was obviously the intention, she burst out laughing. ‘Oh, Dr Channing, thank you for that. Here I was, feeling all nervous about meeting everyone, and you manage to make me laugh. Brilliant. Just brilliant!’

  Julia turned slowly, her mouth puckering until it closely resembled a duck’s arse. She clearly had no idea how to react to Holly’s mirth, especially since Taffy and Dan also seemed to find the whole situation so amusing.

  Holly felt a moment’s guilt as she watched Julia’s internal struggle. After all, she didn’t personally know this woman from Adam, but she was damned if she was going to be bullied from the start. Holly knew instinctively that if she didn’t lay down her marker now, there would be no way to earn Julia’s respect later. Humour had been the only way to go. Well, conceded Holly, it was that or a spot of mud-wrestling . . .

  It briefly crossed Holly’s mind, looking at Julia’s expression, that Julia may be one of those people who actually had no discernible sense of humour, in which case, she might have been better served to opt for the mud. Holly felt the first bite of panic that she’d completely misjudged the situation, before deciding that she was already in for a penny.

  There was an awkward pause and then Holly reached out and took the Post-it from Julia, smoothing it between her fingers. ‘This just has to go on my noticeboard, Julia, I hope you don’t mind. It’s just so funny. And you’re so kind, putting me at ease. Now, I gather from Lizzie that your Larkford Life column’s going really well. You must be over the moon.’

  Dan and Taffy swivelled their heads back and forth, as though they were watching Wimbledon.

  ‘Yes,’ said Julia tightly. ‘I had forgotten that Lizzie’s your friend. You must be pleased to be living nearer to each other? Where were you before – Reading, wasn’t it?’ she said, unclenching a little and struggling to make an effort. Clearly Julia was not familiar with the concept of small talk.

  ‘Yes, at the hospital. It’s a big change, coming here. I’m actually quite looking forward to meeting all the locals. Maybe you can give me a heads-up on the ones to watch out for? The bonkers ones? The hypochondriacs?’

  Julia smoothed her dress over her enviably taut stomach and, if Holly hadn’t known better, she would have thought that Julia was the one to be nervous. Her own heart was still thudding ominously against her ribcage and she felt as though she were in a scene from a David Attenborough wildlife programme, where the pecking order was being established: ‘See the doctors of the Serengeti posturing for position . . .’

  Holly just needed Julia to understand that she was posing no threat to her role as Alpha female at all, but she refused to b
e dismissed or discounted. A little healthy respect was all Holly was aiming to achieve at this point.

  Julia softened still further, ‘Okay then,’ she said, as she made to walk away.

  ‘Great. Lovely to meet you, Julia,’ Holly said brightly, slowly breathing out and willing her pulse to return to normal. She took another calming breath and turned to the two men who were gaping at her. ‘Well, I thought that went rather well, don’t you?’ Holly could feel her confidence flowing back and she couldn’t help but smile. Sod Victoria Sponge – that had surely been a Chocolate Roulade performance.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Taffy in amazement, once Julia had left the room. ‘Who are you, Holly Graham?’

  ‘Told you she was a keeper,’ said Dan with pride, giving Holly a wink.

  ‘Rites of Passage have been negotiated,’ said Taffy seriously and in wonderment, sounding so very Welsh it was almost musical. ‘I never thought I’d see the day!’ He turned to Holly and laid his hands on both her shoulders. ‘You’re a bloody marvel, you are.’ His eyes danced with mischief. ‘You have tamed the notorious Channing and without bloodshed. I could kiss you, I really could.’

  Holly’s heart rate rocketed again, as her moment of eloquence dissolved, a mental picture of that very scenario already taking precedence in her mind.

  Chapter 4

  ‘Come on. You sit down and rearrange your face, try and look like you’re happy to be here, and I’ll go and order us some lunch. What do you fancy?’ said Lizzie, taking control of the situation as Holly had known that she would.

  Holly felt her shoulders instantly relax, free from the responsibility of making decisions. ‘Whatever contains the most calories – it’s been that kind of morning,’ she said gratefully. She couldn’t really let on in the genteel surroundings of Larkford’s organic deli-slash-café-slash-fair-trade-emporium, that what she was really craving was a big juicy burger – the kind where you could actually feel your arteries clogging with every delicious bite. She spent her days advising patients to have their five-a-day, to stay away from saturated fat and processed sugar, and then felt honour-bound to live by those same strictures herself. And most of the time she did.