She looked at the offering in his hand but made no effort to take it. ‘What is it?’
He picked up her hand, opened her palm and placed the tin in it. ‘Feverfew leaves,’ he said. ‘I know you’re not a believer and I understand you have more reason than most to be suspicious of what I do, but if you take it regularly, as an infusion, it’s great for migraine prophylaxis.’
Madeline stared at the tin for a few seconds and looked up just in time to see him heading out the front door. She opened the lid and then slowly brought it up to her nose to sniff it. It didn’t smell hideous — in fact, it was quite pleasant.
It probably wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.
Still, she suspected not seeing him ever again would be the best prophylaxis of all.
CHAPTER FOUR
MADELINE felt wonderful the next morning. The usual hangover she’d normally wake up with after a migraine was non-existent and she knew she had Marcus and his magic touch to thank for that. Even if it had been responsible for the vividly erotic dreams that had weaved their way through the haze of her subconscious all night. She’d woken aroused, the spark now a furnace licking heat deep inside her, and she had to make a conscious effort to get her butt out of bed.
Luckily her first day back at work passed fairly quickly, for which she was grateful. The more work the less time she had to think about Marcus and how his touch had awoken a slumbering nymph. Quite how she was going to handle that she wasn’t sure...
She was fully booked, her regulars more than pleased to see her. Madeline knew that if patients were ill enough, it hardly mattered who they saw, but it took a while to build up a relationship and a rapport with a doctor, and it was only natural to feel more comfortable around your own GP.
There wasn’t anything too taxing for her first day. Just the usual array of aches and pains, mole checks, grizzly babies, requests for repeat scripts, several referrals, a couple of vaccinations and a few pap smears.
Since Madeline had joined the practice the previous year she had introduced a lot of changes, particularly in the area of women’s health. And it was paying dividends. They were attracting an increasing female clientele. Even a lot of the older ladies who didn’t believe in female doctors now preferred Madeline to look after their ‘women’s business’.
She was immensely proud of this. She was pleased that the female clients of the practice, both old and new, had confidence in her. And that George and Andrew did, too. It hadn’t been easy at times and they had made her work damn hard to prove herself, but she’d enjoyed the challenge and had reaped the rewards.
One of the reasons she had gone to the UK, apart from the symposium, had been to look at ways of incorporating a well women’s clinic in the practice, something that focussed on being proactive instead of reactive, and she dearly wanted to get a local support group up and running for the growing numbers of teenage mothers. Some of the UK models she had seen were very impressive.
She had lots of ideas and she was lucky that her father’s old partners were open to suggestions. She had known them all her life and both were very dear to Madeline. It had been a dream come true that they had made room for her in the practice and she had nothing less than a full partnership in her sights.
But first she had to earn it. That took hard work and determination and fortunately she was blessed with an abundance of both. Her innovations were helping to rebuild a client base which had been dwindling, and Madeline was determined to forge a bright future for her father’s beloved practice.
At about three o’clock, Constance Fullbright entered her office. Madeline had been dreading this visit all day. Although fifty-year-old Connie was a nice woman, she was the resident hypochondriac. She had been a patient of Andrew’s for thirty years but he had eagerly passed her on to Madeline when Connie had decided that perhaps a female doctor was a better idea.
‘Hello, Connie,’ said Madeline.
‘Oh, Dr Harrington! So good to have you back. This has been the longest six weeks of my life! Promise you’ll never leave me like that again.’
Madeline smiled. ‘I have to have a holiday some time.’
‘Oh, yes, I suppose,’ the other woman said, lowering her hefty frame into the chair opposite Madeline. ‘But, well, it’s just not the same, seeing anyone else,’ she complained. ‘Andrew is a dear soul and he was my doctor for a long time but, well...it’s just not the same as you, my dear.’
‘Well, thank you, Connie. I’ll take that as a compliment. What can I help you with today?’
Madeline knew from experience that if you didn’t keep Constance on track, the consultation would last for ever. She was lonely and loved a good gossip. But there was just never the time for that and particularly not today.
She listened to her patient describe her latest medical problem, taking notes. Madeline would have seen Connie at least once a week for the last two years. Sometimes twice. Over that time Madeline had investigated Connie for all number of things, including insomnia, heavy periods, mood swings, aching joints, diplopia, headaches, sore throats, fever and forgetfulness.
Connie had become a human pincushion but nothing had shown up on any of her tests other than what Madeline had always suspected, which was falling oestrogen levels, indicating Connie was going through menopause. Today, Connie was describing prolonged fatigue - another classic change-of-life symptom.
There were so many things that Madeline had spoken to Connie about to help her through this period in her life but it had all fallen on deaf ears. Connie wasn’t big on effort. She wanted a magic pill that could cure all her ills and didn’t involve too much of a demand on her. Unfortunately, Madeline knew that there was only so much modern medicine could do for menopause symptoms and the rest was up to the patient.
‘I’m thinking I might see if a naturopath has any answers. What do you think, dear?’
Madeline prepared herself for her standard talk she usually gave patients who were thinking of dabbling in the alternative health field. She never said don’t, even though every part of her wanted to. It was her job to guide her clients, give them the correct information and let them make up their own minds. But this was just one of those subjects she found hard to be objective about.
As Connie continued on, warming to the topic, Madeline started to formulate a plan. Yes, she’d said she’d never refer to Marcus but...if the patient wanted a referral then...why not?
Marcus had said she should give it a chance, and if Marcus could cure Connie, well, she’d definitely need to rethink the whole alternative medicine field. A migraine would be a snap compared to Connie and her multiple problems.
If he could make headway with her, she’d have to start believing in miracles!
‘Connie,’ said Madeline, breaking into the monologue. ‘How about I write you a referral to the new natural therapist who’s opening next door? He’s a homeopath. He doesn’t open till tomorrow but I reckon I can get you an appointment first thing.’
‘Could you? Oh, that would be marvellous.’
‘I’ll talk to him this afternoon. Veronica will ring you with the appointment time,’ she said as she wrote out the referral letter on her personalised stationery.
Okay, Marcus Hunt - let’s see what you’re really made of!