Questions of Trust A Medical Romance - By Sam Archer Page 0,8

have you?’

‘She hates monkeys,’ Rebecca said, an unmistakeable edge of scorn in her voice. ‘You should know that. Why do you ask?’

‘No reason. Bye.’

He dropped the phone on the seat once more and set off.

Kelly was as thrilled to see him as ever. Tom knew he should bring up the subject of her trip away with her mother and Andrew next week, but he couldn’t bear to on this glorious spring afternoon. He couldn’t face the excitement she’d display.

On the way home he fumbled in his attaché case which he’d propped in the passenger footwell and held up the soft toy monkey for her to see.

‘Is this yours?’

‘No, Daddy,’ she scoffed. ‘I hate monkeys.’

‘Thought so,’ he said.

‘Whose is it?’

‘I don’t know. I found it in my bag this morning.’

He’d assumed it was Kelly’s, but it must belong to one of his child patients who’d dropped it into his open attaché case in his consulting room by mistake, or as a prank. Well, he’d drop it off with the receptionists later that evening and they could hand it back when its owner came looking for it.

The mild depression that clung to him after every conversation he had with Rebecca these days lifted as he and Kelly made pasta and Bolognese sauce for lunch, inexpertly and messily. By the time their laughter had started to ebb and they’d finished tidying up, it was gone two o’clock. Less than three hours of precious afternoon time left together. And they still had to go shopping.

There was a large supermarket fifteen minutes’ drive out of town, but for convenience Tom preferred the smaller one in Pemberham’s central shopping area. He procured a trolley and hoisted Kelly up into the child seat in the front, resisting the childish urge to race around the aisles at top speed with her. It wouldn’t do for the local doctor to be seen behaving like a buffoon.

Several people smiled, nodded and said hello as he strolled the aisles. Thankfully none started telling him about their medical problems, a hazard most doctors faced outside the work environment. The pile of groceries in the trolley grew into a small mountain, and as luck would have it Tom had picked a trolley with a stiff wheel so that it kept listing to one side. He struggled to steer it round one particularly troublesome corner when he crashed it side-on into a stationary trolley at the end of the aisle.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered to the woman who’d turned sharply at the sound of the impact.

Then: ‘Hi.’

It was the new patient from yesterday, Chloe Edwards. Her little boy, Jake, was like Kelly ensconced in the seat at the front of the trolley. Mrs Edwards’s eyes widened. Then her expression softened in recognition.

‘Dr Carlyle. Hello.’

‘Sorry about the collision. Wonky wheel.’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘Hey, Jake. How’s Wolf?’

‘Fine.’ The little boy grinned in recognition. His mother smiled, a little tightly, Tom thought. She was in trousers, a jeans jacket and a white T-shirt. Tom tried not to look at her figure, at the swell of her breasts through the cotton.

‘This is Kelly,’ he said. Never a shy child, Kelly stared openly at the new boy and his mother. Tom nudged his daughter and stage-whispered from the corner of his mouth: ‘Hey, you. Some manners, if you don’t mind.’

There were greetings all round, and Tom thought the ice was cracked a little, if not quite broken. He was smiling his goodbyes when a thought struck him.

‘Jake, did you bring anyone else when you came to see me yesterday? Any other animal as well as Wolf?’

He saw Chloe’s eyes widen again and her glance dart to her son. ‘Jake? What about George?’

Tom squinted at the boy. ‘George wouldn’t happen to be a monkey, now would he? A purple one?’

‘Yes!’ the boy shouted.

Chloe whispered, ‘You’ve found him?’

Tom nodded. ‘In my bag. Must have dropped in there.’

She pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. ‘Thank goodness.’ She expelled a long breath, and gave him a smile of such relieved radiance he felt his stomach do a slow flip-flop. ‘We only noticed it was missing this afternoon, before we came out. You wouldn’t believe the tantrum.’

‘Oh, I can believe it. Been there.’ He tipped his head at Kelly. ‘The monkey’s in the car. If you can guard my trolley, and my daughter, I’ll go and fetch it.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Chloe. She seemed embarrassed by her earlier stand-offishness. ‘Finish your shopping and we’ll wait for you in front.’

He was