Page 24 of Prognosis Do Over

‘She had to go home. The school called. Rilla is sick.’

‘Oh, that’s no good. I suppose you’re taking her place?’ he said gloomily.

Lou laughed. ‘Yes. Sorry to depress you.’

What was she so happy about?He nodded tersely. ‘Give me five, then send the first one in.’

Lou walked away, peeved. What was his problem? Honestly, he’d been getting more and more impossible to deal with over the last couple of weeks. Lucky she already knew him quite well, because if she’d only just met him for the first time she’d think him a right arrogant so-and-so.

He’d been short and irritable. And today he’d been like a bear with a sore head on rounds.

She stopped short and back-tracked determinedly. If he thought she was going to work with him all afternoon in this grumpy mood then he could think again. She barged back into his office without knocking.

‘What?’ he demanded, startled by her vigorous entry.

‘What’s up? Spit it out, Will.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘You’ve been in a shitty mood for ages, and I’m not going to put up with it this afternoon.’

He looked at her, standing in front of him, all gorgeous and pregnant and indignant, and he wanted to kiss her. ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he said tersely. ‘I was expecting Lydia, that’s all.’

‘Lydia gives you hell every day, Will. I’d have thought you’d appreciate the reprieve.’

‘Well, she’s growing on me,’ he snapped. ‘Do you think we could get on with this? We’ve only got three hours.’

Lou stared at him, torn between belting him over the head with a chart and yanking him up by his lapels and kissing him. She heard the harshness of her breathing and knew it wasn’t all anger.

‘Please?’ she snapped, sounding like a demented kindergarten teacher and not caring.

‘Please,’ he parroted in an exaggerated fashion, and bugged his eyes at her, then returned to the stack of lab results on the desk.

Dismissed, huh? So this is the way it’s going to be? Well, two can play at this game.

Resolving to be as unhelpful as she possibly could, she put her hand on the first chart and smiled. Bailey Hillgate. Eight years old. Nice kid. Chronic constipation. MFH. Mother From Hell.

‘Bailey,’ she said, smiling sweetly at Will as she ushered patient and mother into the room.

‘Hey, there, champ,’ said Will, ignoring Lou and her fake smile. ‘Pull up a chair,’ he said, patting the one near him. ‘Hi, Mrs Hillgate? I’m Will,’ he said, holding out his hand.

‘Will?’ She sniffed. ‘Are you a proper doctor? I’m supposed to be seeing the paediatrician.’

Will looked at Lou, and narrowed his eyes slightly at her innocent look. He smiled at Mrs Hillgate. ‘Yes, I’m the paediatrican. I just don’t believe in too much formality.’

‘Why on earth not?’ she asked, peering down her nose at him. ‘Surely your parents didn’t spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on your education so you could go around calling yourself anything other than Doctor?’

Will looked at Bailey, who was staring at the floor and generally looking as if he wished the ground would swallow him whole. ‘Hey, Bailey,’ he said, ‘knock-knock.’

‘Who’s there?’ the boy mumbled.

‘Annie.’

‘Annie who?’

‘Annie one you like.’

The joke barely raised a smile. ‘Okay, not a knock-knock fan? How about this? Why did cavemen draw pictures of hippopotamuses and rhinoceroses on their walls?’

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