Virgin Midwife, Playboy Doctor. Margaret McDonaghЧитать онлайн книгу.
Avril’s well-being as well as for that of her baby, suspecting that she had developed pre-eclampsia.
‘I always saw my GP at my old practice as well as the midwife.’ Avril paused and bit her lip. ‘Could I see one of the doctors here today?’
‘We’re more midwife-led here…’ Chloe hesitated as fresh tears spilled down the mother-to-be’s cheeks.
‘I don’t want to be a nuisance, and I don’t mean to doubt your expertise. It’s just that I don’t know anyone and I don’t know what to think. I’m so scared.’
Chloe smiled, wanting to put her at ease. ‘I understand, Avril, don’t worry. I’ll ask one of the doctors on duty to see you.’
The GPs left straightforward cases to Chloe and her colleague, Kate Althorp, but if it would set the distressed woman’s mind at rest to have the second opinion, Chloe wasn’t going to be awkward about it. Avril was alone in a strange place and feeling vulnerable, clearly on edge, her pale skin sallow, her short blonde hair lank. Time was of the essence. All that mattered was the safety of both mother and baby.
‘Thank you, Chloe.’ Avril gave a weary sigh, pressing the fingers of one hand to her temple. ‘I wish my husband was with me.’
‘Would you like me to call him for you?’
‘No, it’s all right. After dropping me here, Piers had to make the half-hour drive to St Piran for a meeting at the secondary school. He’s an art teacher and he’ll be working there when the new term begins,’ she explained tearfully. ‘We were looking forward to the summer to settle into our new home first and prepare for the baby. He won’t be back for another couple of hours.’
Nodding, Chloe reached for the phone and keyed in the extension number for Reception. She watched as Avril turned her head to stare sightlessly out of the window of the room on the first floor of the expanding Penhally Bay Surgery. Chloe had tilted the blinds to keep out the full effects of the merciless July sunshine and was grateful for the coolness inside the building.
‘Hello, Sue,’ she said when her call was answered by the head receptionist. ‘I’m with Avril Harvey for her antenatal appointment. Would you ask one of the doctors to pop upstairs for a few minutes? Thank you.’
The tone of Sue’s reply assured Chloe that the woman had grasped the seriousness of the situation and would respond swiftly to the request. Hanging up, Chloe returned her attention to Avril.
‘What made you choose to settle in Penhally Bay?’ she asked, trying to distract the woman from her worries.
‘We’ve been here several times for weekends and holidays—we even spent our honeymoon here ten years ago.’ A reminiscent smile lightened Avril’s expression. ‘We both love the friendly, peaceful atmosphere, and Piers finds inspiration here for his painting.’
‘Cornwall has always drawn artists. One of my friends, Lauren, is physiotherapist here, and she’s an avid painter, too. Some of her work hangs on the wall in the waiting area downstairs.’
Interest momentarily chased the shadows from Avril’s eyes. ‘I noticed those. She’s very good. Piers’s paintings are more abstract. He’s hoping to have time to develop and sell his work alongside the teaching.’
‘So your move was both personal and professional?’ Chloe encouraged.
‘It seemed ideal when the job came up in St Piran. We never expected to have a child after such a long wait, but when we discovered I was pregnant, we both wanted a different kind of life for our family. I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to my baby.’ A sob escaping, she rested one palm over her stomach.
Rising to her feet, Chloe pulled another tissue from the box she kept handy, then rounded the desk, squatting down to put a comforting arm around Avril’s thin shoulders. ‘Try not to imagine the worst-case scenarios. Even if there is something amiss, it doesn’t mean you won’t have a perfectly healthy baby. We’re going to do all we can to help you,’ she said reassuringly, handing over the fresh tissue.
‘Thank you.’ Avril blew her nose and dabbed at her tear-stained cheeks. ‘I’m sorry to be so silly.’
‘You’re not being silly. It’s an emotional and worrying time.’
Before she could continue, a brief knock sounded and the door opened. Chloe glanced up, barely suppressing a groan as Dr Oliver Fawkner strode into the room with his customary swagger, exuding self-confidence and blatant sex appeal. Oh, no! Why did it have to be him? Dressed in dark grey chinos and a crisp white shirt, he looked cool and unruffled, the shirt’s short sleeves showing off tanned, olive-toned skin and leanly muscled forearms dusted with dark hairs. Straightening, Chloe stepped round the far side of her desk, self-consciously putting a solid barrier between them.
Oliver had been working as an extra GP at the practice since mid-June as cover for the surgery’s increasing workload, the busy holiday season and while Lucy Carter continued her maternity leave. No one could deny what an excellent doctor Oliver was. But for reasons she couldn’t explain, he made her feel acutely nervous. He was just too…everything. Too masculine, too much the playboy, too outrageous, too sure of himself. And far too devastating in the looks and charm departments for any woman’s peace of mind. Especially a woman like her. One who shied away from male attention and anything that made her feel uncomfortable.
Nothing and no one made her feel more uncomfortable than bad boy Oliver Fawkner.
‘Chloe. I heard you wanted me.’
The rough-edged, smoky voice sent a shiver rippling down her spine. Despite being five feet seven, Chloe had a long way to look up Oliver’s ruggedly athletic six-foot-three-inch frame before she met the gleam of amused devilment in brown eyes as sinful and dangerous to the health as the finest chocolate. Chloe forced herself not to react when he sent her a cheeky wink. The man was a rogue. And he never missed an opportunity to tease her, flirt with her, disturb her, which only made her more tongue-tied and feeling like a gauche country bumpkin.
‘Dr Fawkner, this is Avril Harvey,’ she said, trying to hide her uneasiness and maintain her cool professionalism as she gave Oliver the personal details he needed about their patient’s age and circumstances.
Stepping forward with his trade-mark smile, Oliver shook the woman’s hand. ‘Hello, Avril, it’s good to meet you.’
‘Th-thank you, Doctor.’ Avril managed a teary smile in response. ‘I’m sorry to be a bother, asking to see you.’
‘You are not a bother. What seems to be the problem?’ he asked, and Chloe tensed as that warm, molten gaze held her captive once more.
Clearing her throat, she dragged her gaze free and stared down at the notes. ‘This is Avril’s first appointment with us after moving to Penhally with her husband. She is in her thirty-second week, and until now has been attending her previous practice in Birmingham for her antenatal checks.’
‘They said I was worrying for nothing,’ Avril commented, continuing to shred the tissue, revealing her anxiety.
‘Avril’s been experiencing headaches, which are not uncommon for her with her history of migraines, but she has also had episodes with her vision, including floaters. Then there is the oedema—and lack of weight gain,’ Chloe explained, meeting Oliver’s gaze again, glad to see he was now in full doctor mode and all signs of teasing had vanished. ‘I did the routine checks today and there is some protein in Avril’s urine. Her blood pressure has spiked, too. The notes show it has been irregular in the past, but while the last reading recorded was 145 over 85, two weeks ago, today it was 190 over 110, the highest ever.’
Oliver frowned with concern, squatting down beside the mother-to-be, talking quietly to her as he examined her hands and assessed the level of swelling in her legs and ankles. Gently he rested a hand on her belly, and Chloe suspected that the smallness of the baby and Avril being underweight had not escaped his attention. He was very good with patients. Chloe just wished she felt as secure and untroubled