Rob rubbed his chin and pressed his mouth into a thin line.

‘I thought as much.’ The older doctor’s grin reappeared. ‘But, you know, if your situation changes the offer stands.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

At that moment Ryan noticed Tara heading off, and he wanted to talk to her. He felt oddly jilted. But he didn’t have any claim on what she did.

‘If you’ll excuse me, I just want to …’ His voice trailed off as one of the other GPs in the practice cornered Rob Whelan and let Ryan off the hook. Ryan dumped his barely touched food onto the table to follow Tara, but she’d vanished in the space of a few seconds. He went in pursuit and found her room off the corridor leading to Reception.

He knocked quietly but there was no response.

Maybe she hadn’t gone back to her room.

He knocked again, a little louder.

‘Tara?’ He opened the door but her spacious office was empty. He glanced around and noted the modifications that had been made because of Tara’s disability. Shelves and cupboards were no higher than shoulder-height. There were two patients’ chairs but a notable absence of a seat for the doctor. The examination couch was also low, and the pedal that raised or lowered the bed had been modified to accommodate hand controls similar to those used for hospital beds. In fact just about everything in the room was reachable from a wheelchair.

He heard movement from behind a door on the far side of the room, and then the sound of a toilet flushing and water running. The door opened, apparently remote-controlled, and Tara wheeled herself into the room, concentrating on the small joystick that controlled the direction of her chair. She obviously hadn’t seen him as he stood quietly by the door.

He cleared his throat and the muscles of Tara’s shoulders visibly jerked. She scowled as blood rose to her neck and coloured her face.

‘What the—?’

‘Sorry, I knocked. Twice.’ He cleared his throat again.

‘Well, did you want to see me for something?’ Tara said after they’d eyeballed each other for what felt like an age but was probably less than twenty seconds.

‘I …’

What was supposed to be a relaxed greeting and a little ice-breaking chat on his first day working in the Keysdale clinic wasn’t working out the way he’d planned.

‘I just wanted to touch base … er … in a professional capacity, of course.’ He smiled uneasily. It sounded ridiculous now. ‘But you disappeared before I had time to say much more than hello just now.’

Tara tilted her head slightly and the steely look in her eyes blocked any access to what she was thinking. Then the expression on her face softened, as if she’d had a change of mind. It was too much to expect she’d had a change of heart.

‘You took me by surprise,’ she said bluntly. ‘I have a fairly rigid routine at work. It means I can use my time here the most efficiently.’ She hesitated.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’

‘You weren’t to know. After all, a good many years have passed since we last saw each other and a lot has happened since then. We’ve both been living our own lives and I’m not the same person I was back then.’

She was unable to hide her quick downward glance. He didn’t blame her for being bitter. Thoughts that had been tumbling through his mind over the last two weeks returned.

If he could change places with her, he would—a hundred times over; if he could turn back the clock; if only things had been different.

He felt totally helpless.

‘Yes.’ It wasn’t often Ryan was lost for words. He was now.

Tara fiddled with some papers on her desk, arranging them in a neat pile. Then she repositioned herself in her chair.

‘Well, while you are here, have you a minute to discuss a patient?’

‘Yes, of course.’

The atmosphere had definitely lightened. The tension of discussing the past evaporated like summer rain falling on hot asphalt.

‘Her name’s Pippa Morgan and I’ve asked her to make an appointment to see you but it could be a couple of weeks down the track. I’ve been told how busy you are, and that you’re booked up for the next month.’

‘Tell me about her.’

Tara swung around to face him.

‘She’s nineteen. Juvenile rheumatoid arthritis was diagnosed when she was six years old. She’s been managed by a rheumatologist from the early stages.’ Tara paused to take a breath. ‘Of course I’ve only known her as a teenager, and she’s been under the care of Liam Taylor for the past two years. She’s had just about every treatment in the book to control her pain and inflammation—non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, Prednisone, Methotrexate, a trial of a DMARD as well as joint injections.’

Ryan had treated many patients with the inflamed and sometimes deformed joints of the chronic rheumatic condition rheumatoid arthritis, but rarely saw children or young adults with the disease. Treatment by surgery was usually kept in reserve for when all else failed. And the bulk of his experience had been with the middle-aged and elderly.

‘Liam’s one of the best adult rheumatologists around.’

‘It was he who suggested she may need a hip replacement in the next year or two.’

‘And you want my opinion?’

‘That’s right.’

Their conversation was interrupted by Ryan’s mobile phone. He answered the call from his receptionist.

‘Sorry, there’s an emergency. A child with what sounds like displaced fractures of tib and fib.’ He looked at his watch and noted his busy afternoon consulting was due to start as well. ‘I’m going to have to go.’

‘Of course.’

‘We’ll talk about Pippa later.’ He paused in the doorway on his way out. ‘I’ll ring you.’

As Ryan strode down the corridor he tried to file thoughts of Tara Fielding deep in the back of his mind so he could focus totally on his work.

‘I’m taking two patient files with me tonight. Also, would you mind checking if we have a referral letter for a nineteen-year-old named Pippa Morgan—and have you typed out the theatre list for tomorrow?’ Ryan glanced at the wall clock behind his receptionist, eager to leave. He’d had an early start and a long day.

Liz extracted a file from the cabinet and leafed through a dozen sheets of paper before she found the letter Ryan had asked for.

‘Here it is. I’d have remembered if I’d scanned it into the computer records because I’d have made a file for her.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll just do you a photocopy.’

The efficient middle-aged woman smiled. She was a Keysdale local, and today was the first time he’d met her, but she’d certainly proved her worth. She seemed to have the ability to think and act one step ahead of him.

‘So you don’t trust me to return it?’

‘I’m sure you have the best of intentions but I know how busy doctors are.’

‘And it might get overlooked?’ He returned her smile.

‘Something like that.’ She handed him the copy of the letter as well as the theatre list, and jotted down the names of the patient files he’d laid on the counter. ‘And there’s one more thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I won’t be a moment,’ she said as she turned and headed for the back room, returning with a loaded plastic carry-bag. ‘You won’t need to think about what to eat this evening. There was so much food left over from the welcome party, and the girls didn’t want to waste it. Someone noticed you rushed off without touching your lunch so they thought you were a worthy recipient.’

Ryan took a quick peek in the bag and noted there was enough food to last for the next week.

‘Thanks, that’s a really kind thought, but I can’t possibly eat all of this.’

‘It’ll only get thrown away, so you might as well take it.’ He took the bag.

‘Okay, thanks, Liz. I’ll see you next week, then.’

When he arrived in the car park he offloaded the food and his gear in the back seat, climbed in and turned the key in the ignition. But instead of firing on the first turn the engine groaned and his state-of-the-art luxury car gave up.