The Perfect Treatment. Rebecca Lang

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      ‘Hello, Ginny,’ he said softly, holding out his arms to her. ‘I’m sorry to be meeting you again so soon under these circumstances.’

      ‘Oh, Blake.’ The woman’s voice trembled as she went gratefully into the arms that Dr Contini offered her. They embraced in a silent hug. ‘Thank God you’re here.’

      So they were friends after all. Abby stood aside, watching them, her own emotions very close to the surface as she saw the tears again on the wife’s face. When they had satisfied themselves that Dr Ryles was indeed all right, Dr Contini gestured that they should go outside to the main corridor where they could talk without disturbing anyone.

      ‘This is Dr Gibson,’ Blake Contini introduced her when they were outside. ‘She was the one who found Will.’

      Mrs Ryles grasped Abby’s outstretched hand with both her own. ‘I want to thank you,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘I understand that he was in the basement, where he might not have been found for some time. If you hadn’t found him…hadn’t known what to do, or what you were looking at…he might not have survived. Thank you. You saved his life.’

      ‘I—I’m very glad that I was there,’ Abby said. ‘I…really didn’t do a lot. I was just able to call someone.’

      ‘You were there—that’s the main thing!’ Ginny Ryles said emphatically. ‘It’s all this business about the downsizing that’s going on here, you know, that has brought this on with Will…all the budget cuts.’

      ‘That’s most likely a contributing factor,’ Abby agreed wryly, as the distraught woman articulated more or less what she had been thinking herself that morning.

      ‘It’s all the underhand business of deliberately running down departments, without telling the professional staff what has been planned, so that private companies can take over the radiology work of this hospital,’ Ginny Ryles went on with bitter passion, as though she had been waiting to speak to someone about it for a long time.

      Abby nodded, while Dr Contini stood silent. ‘I don’t doubt that for one moment…not for one moment,’ Mrs Ryles went on. ‘He’s talked about nothing else for weeks. All the stress…It has to get to someone. It has to.’

      ‘Yes,’ Abby agreed, picking up the frustration in the woman’s words.

      Blake Contini took the woman’s arm. ‘Come with me to the hospital cafeteria, Ginny,’ he said kindly. ‘I’ll buy you coffee, or anything you want. We can talk there. Dr Gibson has to get to Outpatients.’

      ‘Thank you, Blake. You’re very kind, and I do appreciate it,’ Ginny Ryles said.

      ‘Dr Gibson.’ Blake Contini turned to Abby. ‘I’ll see you in Outpatients in a little while. I have some patients to see there. I’ll square things for you with Dr Wharton about taking time off.’

      ‘All right. Thank you,’ Abby said. ‘Well, goodbye, Mrs Ryles. I expect I’ll see you again, I’ll probably look in later…He’s in good hands.’

      ‘Thank you again, Dr Gibson. I’m planning to spend most of the day here with Will. I’ll only go out of my mind if I stay at home,’ Mrs Ryles said quietly.

      ‘There’s every indication that he’s going to be all right,’ Dr Contini reassured her gently, while Abby looked at him surreptitiously with new eyes.

      Yes, it was clear that he could be charming. She wondered momentarily what it would be like to be the object of that charm, that warmth and undivided attention. Perversely, uncharacteristically, she found herself longing for it—almost as though the incident with Will Ryles had jolted her out of a deep sleep, like Sleeping Beauty in the fairy-tale—then brought her face to face with the prince. Snap out of it, Abigail Gibson, she admonished herself once again. Get real!

      ‘Thank you for saying that,’ Mrs Ryles said tremulously, trying to inject some hope into her voice. ‘Here I am, going on about our affairs, but what about you, Blake? How’s Kaitlin? Any change there?’

      ‘No, nothing,’ Dr Contini said heavily.

      ‘Is there likely to be?’

      ‘I doubt it very much.’

      As Abby made her way to Outpatients a little later, she puzzled over that last brief verbal exchange. It was evident that Dr Contini had known Dr Ryles and his wife for quite a long time.

      She sighed, looking at her wristwatch and making an effort to shift her thoughts to the work ahead in the clinic. She was looking forward to it.

      It was only too easy to become obsessional about the internal politics of a hospital, which were so closely connected to the broader political scene. It could sap one’s energy. Although it was of concern to her, as much as she knew that one had to get involved in some degree, she did not have time for that right now.

      Who, she wondered, was Kaitlin? The question nagged at her persistently…as did the tone of Blake Contini’s voice when he had replied, ‘No, nothing.’

      The voice had sounded dead, devoid of all emotion.

      Dr Wharton’s clinic was well under way when she got to Outpatients. The young family practice doctors like herself were given new patients to see so that they could take detailed histories, do extensive physical examinations, order blood tests, urine tests, X-rays if necessary, and anything else that might be required before the consultant in charge—in this case Dr Wharton—saw each patient to confirm, or call into question, the preliminary diagnosis. This system saved the senior GPs a lot of time, as well as being a good training exercise for the young doctors, who were themselves MDs.

      ‘Morning, Sue’ Abby smiled at the receptionist sitting behind the desk off the main waiting room in the family practice unit. ‘Sorry I’m late. Anything interesting for me? I have to leave again for a while just before eleven o’clock to see a patient on 2 East, one of Dr Contini’s patients that I missed at the rounds. Is he—does he—Dr Contini, that is—have many patients here this morning?’

      Although Abby felt her face flushing as she asked the question, and still feeling somewhat disturbed by all that had happened already that morning, it was good to be in the relative peace of the family practice clinic. Abby felt herself beginning to relax, her habitual confidence returning. This was her territory.

      ‘Hi, Dr Gibson.’ Sue, the young, efficient receptionist smiled back. ‘It’s going to be one of those days, I think. Lots of interesting cases for you to get your teeth into. Here’s your first.’ She handed over a folder that contained the patient’s basic statistics and initial complaint. ‘Dr Contini has a couple of patients to see. He told me he’d be available for any consultations here if anyone wanted him.’

      ‘That’s really great! Maybe I’ll take advantage of that offer, if Dr Wharton’s busy. Thanks.’ Abby took the folder, glancing at it to see the patient’s name and feeling an upsurge of anticipation at working in the same unit with Blake Contini, even though it was an anticipation tinged with remnants of irritation.

      Dr Wharton would be there in the unit, plus two other family practice MDs in training like herself. At the moment there was no sign of them—no doubt they were already in the offices assigned to them, seeing patients.

      ‘Mr Barlow,’ she called out across the waiting room, ‘Gary Barlow.’

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