Home > Trust Me(6)

Trust Me(6)
Author: Sheryl Browne

‘Quick word about the practice budget when you have a second, Jake,’ he said, his mouth curving into an appreciative smile, his gaze still on Nicky.

Aware of Tom’s attention, Nicky smiled back. Emily had no idea what else she was supposed to do other than blank him, but she couldn’t help thinking Tom would be encouraged by the girl appearing unconcerned about his ogling. She really was going to have to have strong words with him.

‘No time like the present,’ Jake said tersely.

‘Is it okay if I go now, Emily?’ Nicky asked as Tom dragged his gaze away and turned to follow Jake to his office. ‘It’s just I’ve already worked ten minutes over and I’m meeting up with someone in Pembridge this evening.’

Emily checked the clock. ‘Gosh, yes, of course. Sorry. You go. Take an extra ten minutes in the morning if you like. I can manage. Going anywhere nice?’

‘The Fish and Anchor for a meal.’ Smiling in anticipation, Nicky headed back around the desk to grab her bag. ‘It’ll take me ages to get ready.’

Emily’s mind boggled at that. The girl always looked as if she’d stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. ‘Enjoy. See you tomorrow. Not too hung-over, I hope,’ she added as Nicky went to fetch her coat, a trendy black leather biker jacket similar to one Millie had. They seemed to be everywhere at the moment. Emily quite fancied one herself, but couldn’t help thinking she might look like mutton dressed as lamb.

Nicky smiled sheepishly and tugged the jacket on. ‘I won’t be,’ she promised, lifting her lustrous dark hair from the back of the jacket and allowing it to fall in loose waves over her shoulders. ‘I don’t generally drink during the week.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Emily smiled knowingly back. Nicky had come in so hung-over once she’d barely been able to function. As she’d been out celebrating her birthday, and aware of her own propensity to judge people who leaned on mood-enhancing drugs, alcohol being one of them, Emily hadn’t been too hard on her, but she had warned her not to make a habit of it.

She felt less forgiving, however, when she noticed that the girl was about to leave the surgery with her computer screen still lit and showing confidential patient data.

‘Haven’t we forgotten something, Nicky?’ she asked, drumming her fingers pointedly against the desktop.

Knitting her brow, Nicky gave her a puzzled look.

‘Your data protection training, possibly?’ Emily’s eyes slid towards the computer.

‘Oh my God.’ Nicky clamped a hand to her mouth, her huge brown eyes growing wide with alarm. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, flying back towards it. ‘I was distracted.’

By Tom, no doubt, Emily thought, now feeling considerably peeved.

‘It won’t happen again, I promise.’ Leaning over the keyboard, Nicky quickly exited the patient files and closed the computer down.

‘Please make sure it doesn’t.’ Emily softened her tone, despite her annoyance. ‘We operate a clear-desk policy for a reason. Making sure there are no files left lying around and exiting all computer screens is essential. Anyone could access private medical information otherwise: a member of the public, the cleaning staff, the postman – even delivery or maintenance people, for goodness’ sake.’

Nicky looked contrite. ‘I know. I really am sorry. I’ll put a Post-it note on my screen to remind me, and a note in my handbag.’ Her eyes flicked down and back again, and Emily saw she was on the brink of tears. She felt like an old witch but couldn’t let it slip. The waiting room was open to all and sundry, and protecting patient confidentiality was paramount in a doctor’s surgery. As practice manager, she was entrusted to keep people’s personal details safe, and she took her responsibility very seriously.

‘And one on your desk to remind you to put the note on your screen?’ she suggested, with a small smile. ‘Try not to forget, Nicky. It’s extremely important.’

Nicky nodded. ‘I know. I won’t.’

‘Go on, off you go.’ Emily sighed tolerantly. The girl had clearly got the message. ‘See you in the morning,’ she said, going back across the surgery to lock up behind her.

‘Will do. I’ll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and making sure to pay attention to detail, I promise.’

Emily hoped so. Watching in bemusement as the girl negotiated the steps with ease and clip-clopped off, she closed the door and walked back to do her usual check of the waiting area. Having established there were no items left behind by patients, she was walking back to reception when she heard Tom’s tones drifting through Jake’s open office door. ‘I see all the young female patients are switching to your list,’ he said amusedly.

Emily guessed from Jake’s silence that he found this more annoying than amusing.

‘Can’t say I blame them. You’re definitely a chip off the old block,’ Tom went on, oblivious. ‘Suave, good-looking. I hope you’re not stepping too literally into my shoes, though.’

Emily sighed at the man’s attempt at a joke. She very much doubted Jake would aspire to do that. Undoubtedly handsome, he’d definitely been a magnet for female patients when he’d first joined the practice. He wasn’t his father, though, or anything like him. Her vivid dream popped into her mind, reminding her how easily Jake could attract the attention of a woman, and the intense heartbreak she’d felt when he had. But that was years ago. She tried hard to dismiss it, but couldn’t quite manage to.

‘I have no intention of stepping into your shoes,’ she heard Jake reply brusquely.

‘Right,’ Tom said awkwardly. ‘I, er, actually meant I hoped you wouldn’t be taking all of my patients, since I wasn’t intending to fully retire just yet.’

Jake took a minute to answer. When he did, Emily was taken aback. ‘You never cease to amaze me, do you know that?’ he growled. ‘This bloody innuendo you come out with all the time. Don’t you have any conscience?’

Tom hesitated. ‘If you’re referring to what I think you are, Jake,’ he said, at length, ‘I do have one or two regrets, yes.’

‘Just one or two?’ Jake’s tone was caustic.

‘Several,’ Tom admitted. ‘Look, Jake, I know what you think of me. That you’re uncomfortable with some of the things I did in the past.’

‘Uncomfortable?’ Jake repeated, astonished.

Tom was silent for a second, then: ‘It wasn’t easy for me sometimes,’ he said quietly. ‘Things weren’t good between your mother and me, and—’

‘You sought comfort elsewhere?’ Jake suggested, his voice edged with disdain.

‘Your mother wasn’t well,’ Tom insisted fiercely. ‘She never had been, not really. I tried, but—’

‘Shall we talk about the budget?’ Jake cut him short.

Oh dear. Hearing the anger in his voice, Emily felt for them both. Despite his reservations, Jake had come to work with his father five years ago because Tom had managed to persuade him that, however he felt about him, he would be an idiot to pass up the offer of a partnership, particularly with two teenagers to put through their education. Emily sensed that, beneath his sometimes glib exterior, Tom might be lonely and desperate to mend fences with his son. Jake would never be able to make himself believe his father had ever cared about his mother or him enough to want to meet him halfway, though.

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