1
‘Well, Alison,’ the nurse said cheerfully, ‘your blood pressure’s definitely up since your last health check. We’re going to have to do something about that, aren’t we?’
She released the pressure from the arm cuff and Alison slumped in the chair, relieved that it was over even if the results weren’t what she’d hoped. She hated having her blood pressure monitored.
‘It makes me feel a bit queasy,’ she told the nurse. ‘That horrible tightening on my arm is so uncomfortable. You know, I’m pretty sure it’s that which sends my blood pressure soaring. Bet it’s much lower really.’
‘Yes, a lot of people say that,’ the nurse replied. ‘White coat syndrome. Isn’t it funny?’
Hilarious.
‘Well, that’s you done for today, my love. If you give us a ring in a few days, we’ll have the results of your blood tests for you and let you know if you need an appointment. Have you still got your own BP machine at home?’ As Alison nodded, she said, ‘Smashing. Well, in the meantime, can you monitor your blood pressure for us over the next four days and let us know the readings? Then we’ll discuss whether you need your medication increasing. Okay?’
It wasn’t really a question. Alison was dismissed. She nodded her thanks and stumbled out of the consulting room feeling as deflated as the cuff that now lay, harmless-looking, on the nurse’s desk. You’d never believe it could grip with such ferocity. Bloody thing.
She gave a half-hearted smile to the receptionist then hurried out of the building, eager to get as far away from the place as possible. She dreaded visiting the surgery. Doctors and nurses and monitors and tests…
Unfortunately, it was January, which meant it was her birthday month and time for her annual health check. She’d skipped it last year and had hoped she could get away with it this year, too, but there’d been a few text messages from the surgery, and even the chemist had pointed out to her that there was a note on her prescription saying she needed to book an appointment before she could get any more blood pressure tablets.
There had been no escape.
At least it was over with now, she thought, as she unlocked the car door and slid into the driver’s seat, glad to get out of the drizzle that had persisted all afternoon. Slamming the door shut, she took a deep breath and leaned back against the headrest for a moment, closing her eyes as she tried to still the panic.
‘It’s done,’ she murmured. ‘The worst bit’s over with now.’
Except she knew that wasn’t true because she still had to take her own blood pressure for four days and it was an ordeal she really wasn’t looking forward to. And then there was the waiting for the blood test results.
‘Don’t think about it now,’ she said firmly. ‘Come on, let’s go home. I’ll treat you to a posh coffee and a slice of that Victoria sponge.’
She wondered vaguely if anyone else had conversations out loud with themselves. Maybe it was just her. One thing to talk to yourself in your mind, but to say it out loud?
‘I think you might be a bit daft,’ she told her reflection in the rear-view mirror as she wrestled with the seat belt.
‘Hey, me too!’ it replied.
She shook her head, laughing, and started the car.
At least she had the whole evening to herself tonight. No late shift at the petrol station. No babysitting duties. Just the latest episode of her favourite soap and a few chapters of the book she’d been trying to read for the last three weeks.
‘And a bath,’ she decided, as she navigated her way out of the car park and on to the main road. ‘Not a shower. A nice long soak in the tub, with my posh bubble bath, and maybe even candles.’
She knew it would never happen. She’d seen it in the films but had never actually had a soak with candles around the bath in her life and probably wouldn’t start now. Besides, her hair really needed washing, and a shower was so much quicker…
The drive home took forever. Rush hour, with the world and its wife making their way home after a hard day’s graft. She’d managed to leave work a couple of hours early so she could go to the doctor’s but had forgotten about the busy main roads through Hull at teatime.
She finally pulled up outside her house thirty-five minutes after leaving the surgery on what should have been a ten-minute drive. She was feeling frazzled and anxious and had no doubt that her blood pressure had just climbed to even greater heights.
‘Why are some drivers such morons?’ she wondered aloud as she unclipped her seat belt, reached for her bag and finally stepped out on to the pavement.
‘There you are, stranger! Thought you were never coming home.’
For a split-second Alison thought the voice was her daughter’s and her heart sank, but it was only Rosie, sitting on the doorstep, the light from the wall lamp revealing her beaming face as Alison moved closer.
God, she thought,what an awful way to feel about my own daughter! I’m a horrible person, I really am.
‘What are you doing here?’ She couldn’t help smiling as her cousin jumped to her feet. It was hard not to smile when Rosie was around.
‘I’ve been sat on your doorstep for bloody ages,’ Rosie told her. She peered round at her behind and said, ‘Is my arse wet? Just have a look for us, will you?’
