‘It is.’Ryan held Nel’s gaze for a moment too long, then turned to Sophie.‘We’ve got to go.’
‘Nice to see you again,’ Sophie said to Nel.Ryan was already walking out the door.Her heart raced as she hurried after him, sensing his disapproval from his gait, the slam of his car door.
When she reached the car, she steadied herself and looked back at Nel, who was still standing in the foyer, staring back at her.
Chapter 16
‘There’s a couple of prescription requests here, doll, when you have a moment.’Viv passed Nel two Post-it notes.‘And one of the locum interviews has been cancelled.He took a job somewhere else apparently.’
Nel sighed.‘Really?’She looked over at her next patient, who was watching her instead of scrolling mindlessly on his phone like people usually did.An uneasy feeling came over her.She turned her attention back to Viv and the locum.At this rate, she would never get out of here.‘Can we line up a replacement?’
‘Trust me, I’m working on it,’ Viv said.
Nel turned back to the patient.‘Trent?’
He pushed his floppy hair out of his face and nodded.
‘Have a seat,’ she said when they reached the consult room.‘I’m—’
‘Penelope Foley.’
She frowned.‘Nel, actually.NelFoley.’She studied his face as he sat down.Should she recognise him?He was about her age.Early thirties.Handsome in a dishevelled way.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’She swallowed.‘How can I help?’
Her heart raced as he reached into the side pocket of a worn leather laptop bag.He obviously wasn’t here as a patient.He passed her a business card.
TRENT DONOHUE.Investigative Journalist.
A knot formed in her stomach.‘Look, whatever it is you want, I don’t have time for it.’
‘I just want a couple of minutes.’
She was irritated now.‘This is a medical practice.Unless you need a doctor, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’
He didn’t move.‘I’ll pay for the appointment,’ he said as if that was the point.
Nel’s mind raced as she considered her options.She needed to know what he was working on.
‘Let’s make this quick then.What do you want from me?’
‘I’m writing a profile piece about Geoff Marshall forThe Weekend Magazine.’
A lump formed in her throat.
‘Obviously it will cover the death of his daughter.’
‘Isn’t it …’ Her voice faltered.‘Isn’t it old news?’
‘There’s a lot of new interest in the story.If the conservatives win the election and Geoff Marshall wins his seat, he’ll be the Deputy Prime Minister.’
She sighed.Why couldn’t Maddie’s father be an accountant or a schoolteacher?Something ordinary, anonymous.
‘What story though?’She hoped he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.‘Thereisno story.It was just an accident.A terrible, tragic accident.’
‘The thing is … I don’t think you really believe that.’
