Chapter Thirty-Nine

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For Patrick, tomorrow arrived, not with an internet search for mini-breaks to Courcheval, but performing surgery on a Weimaraner. The timing couldn't have been more impeccable. He arrived back home, as Libby ran out of the square, purposefully not looking his way. Two hours later, as Libby jogged back into the square, Lynda from the post office rang in tears - Boadicea had been hit by a car.

Patrick rang Lisa, already dreading her appalling coffee and inane drivel. She answered immediately, but sounded cagey when he asked her to come in. Maybe she wouldn't show and he could get Sam to assist. Every cloud.

He'd prepped the room and had his sleeves rolled up, when Grace arrived. 'What are you doing here?'

'Lisa can't make it,' she said, pulling her hair into a bun. 'And I needed to talk to you.'

'Can it wait?'

'Lynda's not here yet.'

'Out with it.'

'As practice manager, I'm making some changes. You hate Lisa working here and she leaves every night in tears. She's emailed me, detailing the many, many occasions where you've displayed tribunal-worthy behaviour. She wants to go back to Haverton. I want to come back here.'

'And how's that-'

'The office crap, which it turns out I rather like, I can do at Haverton on Monday afternoons.'

'Out of hours?'

'It's fine.' She pulled on her blue scrubs. 'At least I'll know the in-patients are taken care of.'

'Ah, you don't trust me.' He tried not to smile. He'd get Grace back. 'And what about...' The minor inconvenience of you being in love with me.

'I can work with you, if you can work with me.'

'It won't be weird?'

'Has it been for the last year?'

'No more spells?'

'Like you believe in them anyway.'

They hovered by the front door, waiting for Lynda.

'You really like the office crap?' he asked.

'I finally get to fix the rota which has bugged me for months. Oh, and your dad's agreed that one Monday afternoon a month, you get to do your pro bono do-gooding here, not Haverton. There are people on benefits in Gosthwaite too.' Grace glanced across at Libby's house. 'Have fun last night?'

'Did you?'

'I'd have thought you'd have taken her to dinner at your parents' yesterday, but Paolo rang her, said she was at home.'

'It's complicated.'

'No, it's not. The minute I saw her, I knew you'd like her.'

'Why?'

'She's your type.'

'My type?' He had one?

Grace laughed. 'I've listened to you bang on about women for two years. Miss Haverton's slutty underwear, Tabitha Doyle's bitchy attitude, Daisy's innocent looks. I know what you want. You want a nice girl and take away her make-up and clothes, that's who Libby is. Plus, you're right. She is like me. That's why you get on so well.'

'It's still complicated.' He relaxed as Lynda's car headed across the square. 'What about you and Paolo?'

She shrugged. 'He's fit, fun, but he's still in love with her, and I want Jack back.'

'Why? He can't keep it in his pants.'

'Jack's insecure and me working with you didn't help.'

'He knew?'

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