‘Good morning, ladies.’
James greeted the receptionists en masse and picked up a pile of prescriptions for signing.
‘Good morning, Dr Armstrong.’
He smiled, the chorus of simultaneous greetings from Sandy, Christine and Anna reminding him of a class of children greeting their teacher; not that he was brave enough to share that thought with them. Hesitating on the pretext of looking through the scripts, he waited for the other two receptionists to be engaged on answering the telephones before speaking again.
‘Anna, could I please have the telephone number for Lady Winsonby-Folcroft at Helliton Hall? She’s asked me to call but only left part of her number.’
He started to leave and then turned, as another thought occurred to him.
‘Oh, and I think you were looking for this.’
He pulled a long white envelope from his pocket and passed it to her on his way out of the reception.
‘I’ll be in my room when you have found that number.’
As he walked through the waiting room he glanced back to see the look of surprise on her face, well knowing that, having opened the envelope, she was now staring at two tickets for the Bolshoi Ballet’s production of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake at the Hull New Theatre.
It was only a matter of a few moments before there was a knock on his consulting room door. Not waiting for a response, Anna entered and closed the door behind her.
‘You’re fantastic!’
He looked up from his desk, a smile of amusement substituting for speech.
‘You wonderful man, you.’
‘I’m not sure wheth—’
His response was cut short as she hoisted him out of his seat by the knot of his tie.
‘Anna, you’re throt—’
This time it was not strangulation that cut his sentence short, but a powerful, very passionate kiss as she draped her arms round his neck and pulled his lips to hers.
‘How did you do it?’ It was she who finally surfaced for air first. ‘I thought you were already going with Janice?’
He grinned again, straightened his tie and pulled her back to him.
‘Which of those two questions would you like me to answer first?’
With his arms now around her waist, they were both very conscious that her kiss had elicited a significant state of arousal. She wriggled her hips in acknowledgement of the fact, an action that only exacerbated the situation. He smiled, enjoying the mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
‘It is true that I have to go on the Friday night. However, as you will see from your tickets, I am taking you to the matinee performance on the preceding Thursday afternoon. Consequently, the first time I will have ever seen the Bolshoi Ballet perform live will be in your company.’
‘You’re impossible – and I love you.’
‘No, you don’t; you’re just infatuated with fortune and power.’
She wriggled for a second time, but this time in an indignant attempt to escape his hold.
‘Call it an early birthday present.’
She kissed him again, but this time more as punctuation to her former sentence.
‘Thank you very much.’
Another kiss followed, slightly longer than the previous.
‘I must get back to the desk.’ As she spoke, she broke free of his arms and groped the growing bulge in his trousers before walking away. ‘We’ll speak about that later.’
‘Of course; as you wish.’
She had the door half-open before he again spoke.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something important?’
She half-turned to face him.
‘I said we would deal with it later.’
‘No, something that is going to rescue me from a far more serious predicament?’
Puzzlement now became her dominant expression.
‘Lady Winsonby-Folcroft’s telephone number?’
‘Oh, yes.’
She laughed and passed across a piece of crumpled paper from the pocket of her skirt.
‘Sorry, Doctor. My mind was on other matters.’
She winked and was gone from the room. James took a deep sigh, straightened the paper, picked up the telephone and dialled the number. After four rings, an answer-machine cut in with the voice of the High Sheriff’s personal secretary requesting a message be left. He was somewhat relieved not to have to make his excuses directly.
‘Hello, this is James Armstrong. Perhaps you would thank Lady Winsonby-Folcroft for her kind invitation but let her know that, unfortunately, I am on duty for the practice on Saturday week and therefore unable to attend on this occasion. Thank you.’
He hung up, relieved to have had a genuine excuse not to attend on his own, or worse, to have attended with Janice in tow. The mere thought of the latter scenario caused a small shudder to ripple his back and he shook his head as though in affirmation of the undesirability of the thought. Picking up a set of medical notes and memorising the name, he checked his appearance in the mirror and walked out into the waiting room to call his first patient of the day.