Unknown (2 page)

Oliver Spencer watched his registrar head purposefully away. So, the gypsy wanted Sophie, did she? He could understand that. Sophie Bennett was an extremely desirable woman. Intelligence shone from those dark blue eyes and silky, soft-looking straight hair framed a face that was surprisingly innocent for someone her age. A face that advertised compassion and honesty. Sophie also had a quite delicious-looking mouth that smiled frequently and easily and small, delicate hands that were as competent as her brain. Sophie Bennett looked like the girl next door. She even had a faint dusting of freckles on her small, slightly snub nose. She was exactly the type of woman his mother had always hoped he would find, but Sophie Bennett had already found someone else. Long ago.

Oliver really
had
hoped that this weekend might have changed something. Had he been wrong in thinking that the attraction that had escalated over the last three months had not been entirely one-sided? He'd kept things light. He wasn't going to break up a happy couple. No way! But many a true word was spoken in jest and if he'd had any real indication that his admiration was unwelcome he would have stopped.

Sophie
did
seem tense. Had she had a row with Greg? Oliver sighed, trying to suppress the ignoble hope that there had been some major friction. He'd never been troubled by jealousy before but this weekend had been an unpleasant introduction to the emotion. The gypsy wanted Sophie. Greg wanted Sophie.

So did Oliver Spencer.

As Sophie entered the main office, separated from the waiting area by the large semi-circular counter, she bumped shoulders with the hurrying figure of St David's other full-time staff member.

'Sorry, Sophie.' Janet Muir's face was creased worriedly.

'What's up, Janet?'

The practice nurse sighed with frustration. 'The new batch of flu vaccine was supposed to be here first thing this morning.' The Scottish burr in Janet's voice was always more pronounced when she was agitated. 'We're going to be inundated after that scare on the news last night about the Hong Kong outbreak and we're nearly out of supplies.'

Toni Marsh was holding a phone receiver against her shoulder. 'I've got the couriers on the line,' she soothed Janet. 'I'm just sorting it out.' Toni waved towards the end of the counter. 'New patient for you, Sophie. I've made up a file.'

Sophie picked up the flat, clean folder. The name and coded number were already printed on its cover, the consultation notes sheet clipped inside with a computer printout giving patient details. No reason for the consultation had been given. Sophie stepped into the open archway that divided the waiting room from the main corridor.

'Miss Ellis?'

The gypsy's eyes opened smartly. She rose from her cross-legged position with graceful ease and her long, layered skirt rippled as she moved, prompting Sophie to wonder how on earth she managed to ride a bicycle in such attire.

'Call me Pagan,' the woman invited warmly.

Sophie smiled. Pagan Ellis looked the picture of health. She also looked very friendly and far more interesting than many of Sophie's patients. Perhaps today wouldn't be so bad after all.

'Would you like to come this way, Pagan?'

Pagan's impressive collection of jewellery jangled musically as she settled herself into the chair. 'Is it OK if I call you Sophie? I'm not big on formal stuff.'

'Sure.' Sophie closed the door and then sat at her desk, opening the new file in front of her. 'This is your first visit to St David's, isn't it?'

'Oh, yes.' Pagan Ellis was gazing around Sophie's consulting room. She nodded to herself.

'What can I help you with, Pagan?'

'Are you a Virgo, Sophie?'

'Sorry?'

'Your sun sign. You know, your zodiac sign?' Pagan's full mouth twitched impatiently. 'When's your birthday?'

'September tenth.' Sophie's astonishment made her respond without question.

'I knew it!' Pagan said triumphantly. 'You're pure Virgo.'

'Really?' Sophie was intrigued. This might not be a textbook example of how to initiate a consultation but the invitation was too tempting to resist.

'Everything's so tidy.' Pagan nodded. 'You make order out of chaos. I'll bet you write lists of things to do every day.'

Sophie couldn't help smiling. She had quite a long list tucked into her shoulder-bag.

'You enjoy books.' Pagan's bangles clinked as she waved at Sophie's shelf of medical textbooks. 'You do work that is challenging and I'll bet you're a perfectionist.'

'I like to be thorough,' Sophie admitted.

'And organised,' Pagan added. 'You've probably got your future all planned out and shaping up exactly how you want it.'

Sophie's intrigue with the potential clairvoyance of her patient evaporated. She might be right about having her future planned out but as for shaping up... Sophie didn't need the reminder of the plug she had just pulled out in that direction.

'I wouldn't say that exactly.' Sophie's tone was cooler. More professional. 'Now, about you, Pagan. What brings you—?'

'Oh, I'm an Aquarius,' Pagan interrupted. 'Pretty obvious, eh?'

'Ah...'

'Did you know we're actually in the age of Aquarius?'

'No,' Sophie said slowly. She took a furtive glance at her watch and succeeded only in catching sight of her engagement ring.

'Uranus dropped into the sign in 1995,' Pagan confirmed happily. 'It won't leave until 2004. Did you know that the Internet started in 1995 and that WWW is also the logo for Aquarius?'

'No,' Sophie said more firmly. 'And I don't think—'

'That was how I found him,' Pagan said brightly. 'On the Internet. Couldn't be more appropriate really, could it?'

'I really couldn't—'

'I mean, our signs were perfectly matched. I knew he was going to be the father of my baby.' Pagan smiled blissfully. 'It was wonderful. We met up in Hawaii and made love on the beach to the sound of the waves. Conceived in Pisces—that's a water sign, of course. And it's due in Scorpio. Another water sign.' Pagan sighed rapturously.

'Ah...so you're pregnant?' Sophie reached for a pen. 'Is that why you've come to see me?'

'Of course.'

Sophie nodded. Finally, they were getting somewhere. 'What was the date of the first day of your last period?'

'That would have been the sixth of February. Conception was February the twentieth. Really the cusp of Pisces and Aquarius. That's my sign, you know.'

'So you said.' Sophie nodded a little wearily.

'You're about eleven weeks pregnant, then. Have you been to a doctor since you missed your first period?'

'No. I had to find just the right person.' Pagan smiled warmly at Sophie. 'I've been to see a few but nobody had the right aura.' She gazed at Sophie intently. 'You do. I want you to deliver my child.'

'We don't do deliveries, exactly,' Sophie said apologetically. 'It's more shared care with a midwife and an obstetrician. We do a lot of the routine antenatal checks and—'

'I've got a midwife,' Pagan interrupted. 'She's great. It was her idea that we find the right doctor. Just in case.'

Sophie's gaze had slipped to the computer printout. 'You're thirty-seven, is that right?'

Pagan nodded.

'And this is your first baby?'

'My only baby.'

'We'll need to book you in for a scan. Have you considered amniocentesis at all?'

'What's that?' Pagan's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'It's a test that can detect a range of birth defects, including spina bifida and Down's syndrome.' Sophie pulled a book down from her shelf and flicked the pages rapidly. 'Down's syndrome is the result of a chromosomal abnormality in the baby. Maternal age is an important factor and if you look at this graph here you can see that the risk rises sharply after the age of thirty-five.' Sophie turned the book to face her patient. 'The test involves removing a small amount of the amniotic fluid that surrounds the baby in the womb. It's usually done at around fourteen to sixteen weeks when there is more fluid available.'

Pagan Ellis gave the textbook ho more than a dismissive glance. 'Don't fancy that. I don't want any interventions. This pregnancy is going to be totally natural.' She shrugged. 'Theoretically, I suppose I should have gone for a test tube baby. I mean the age of Aquarius is all about technology but some things are meant to be natural.' Pagan grinned, 'More fun that way.'

Sophie was not going to be sidetracked. 'Do you have any family history of genetic problems?'

'No.'

'What about the father's family history?'

'God, Ziggy and I never talked about things like that.' Pagan gave Sophie a disappointed stare. 'It's not as if he's going to have anything to do with the baby.' She grinned again. 'Mind; you, he said it had been a blast and if I ever wanted another kid to give him a bell. No,' Pagan finished decisively. 'No tests. I want a natural pregnancy and a natural birth. A very special birth.'

Sophie cleared her throat, hoping that the prickle of alarm she felt was unfounded. 'Just what did you have in mind for the birth, Pagan?'

'A beach, of course,' Pagan replied kindly. 'I thought you understood. Water signs and all that, you know?'

'A beach?'

'Well, not
exactly
.' Pagan leaned forward. 'I really mean the sea.'

'Apparently, the surf will speed up contractions. Her faith healer is all in favour of it.' Sophie finally sipped at her mug of coffee as she finished her tale of woe. 'What on earth am I going to do, Oliver?'

Oliver Spencer was smiling broadly. Sophie could see the delight in the way the lines around his eyes crinkled, the rather lopsided tilt to his mouth and the way his head tipped back a little as he ran long fingers through the waves of dark hair. She blinked, disconcerted at her easy recognition of Oliver's response. She had only known the man for three months but she could predict exactly the supportive comment he was about to make.

'It's early days,' Oliver said cheerfully. 'You'll talk her out of it.'

'I think I should hand her over to you. You're my supervisor after all. GP registrars are supposed to hand over the really tricky cases.'

'Not at all.' Oliver sat back, looking totally relaxed. His shirtsleeves were still rolled up and his tie knotted only loosely around his neck. They were both sitting in the staffroom at the back of the house. Originally the kitchen and dining room of a family home, the dividing wall had been knocked out, making a spacious area with comfortable couches and a dining table. The kitchen facilities had been kept, along with an extra refrigerator to house drugs and specimens that needed to be kept cool. Sophie wondered if Mr Collins's jam jar was hiding in the fridge.

'It's my responsibility to provide guidance. To make sure you have the facilities and support you need and to be available to bail you out when you have real problems. Have I ever let you down?'

'No.' Sophie's smile reflected very genuine gratitude. Oliver Spencer had been wonderful. Too wonderful. He had been welcoming, totally supportive and generous with his time and cheerful enthusiasm as he oversaw her training. His appreciation of Sophie might have been disconcerting at first but she had become used to it surprisingly quickly. At what point had she started wanting to respond? Sophie squashed the dangerous line of thought.

'Besides...' Oliver's mouth twitched '...Pagan Ellis is quite right.'

'What?' Sophie's eyes widened dramatically.

'You've got the right aura.' Oliver was smiling but there was a glint in his eyes that gave Sophie a now familiar internal twinge. 'I knew it all along, of course, but it's nice to have it confirmed by an expert.'

Janet Muir bustled into the staffroom, carrying a small carton. 'They've finally arrived,' she announced. 'And not a minute too soon. I've got at least twenty people coming in for flu shots this afternoon.' She threw open the door of the storage fridge. 'Och,' she exclaimed in disgust. 'What is
that?'

'Is it in a jam jar?' Oliver queried calmly.

'Aye.' Janet was staring intently into the interior of the fridge.

'Don't ask, then,' Oliver advised. 'Unless you really want to find out.'

'I don't think I do.' Janet began unloading her carton. 'It's put me right off my lunch already.' She glanced up. 'Have you had lunch, Sophie?'

'I'm just having coffee. I got way behind, thanks to my first consultation, and I'm still trying to catch up.'

'How was your weekend?'

'Great, thanks.' Sophie could feel the ring constricting her finger again. 'How was yours?'

'Awful.' Janet shut the fridge door and sighed. 'The boys broke the front window and then it started pouring and I had to get a glazier to come and fix it on Sunday. It cost twice as much and the carpet's still soaked. I put the heater on but there's a funny smell.'

'How did the window get broken?'

Janet reached for a mug and a teabag. 'Apparently, by an act of divine intervention. Never mind the fact that there was a cricket bat on the lawn and a cricket ball on the carpet. The boys swore it wasn't them.'

'You mean they lied about it?' Oliver was frowning.

'It's becoming the first line of defence.' Janet sighed again. 'They back each other up and they're, amazingly convincing.'

Sophie smiled. She could just imagine Janet's six-year-old twin boys, with their curly blonde hair framing angelic faces, denying yet another misdeed. They were apparently a real handful but Janet seemed to cope admirably with single motherhood.

Oliver was still frowning. 'What did you do about it?'

'Well, the window's fixed now and I suppose it wasn't really their fault. The garden's too small to play cricket in and I was too busy to take them to the park.' Janet added two spoons of sugar to her mug.

'I meant about the lying.' Oliver stood up. 'That's a lot worse than breaking the window.'

'I know.' Janet looked anxious. 'I don't know what to do. It's so obvious it's funny. We all ended up laughing about it.'

'Lying's never funny,' Oliver stated. 'It might be obvious at the moment but they'll get better at it. You need to do something about it now, Janet.' For some inexplicable reason Oliver's gaze locked onto Sophie's. 'Take my word for it,' he said seriously. 'Honesty is far too important to compromise.'