‘Will she bring cake?’
‘This is Corrine…the world is coming to an end if she doesn’t bring cake.’
Maisie beamed at him. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Aye, well, it wouldn’t do otherwise, would it?’ Victor looked at Billie. ‘Should I come to pick you up later?’
‘That’s all right – Dad says he’ll come for me.’
‘I could if you’re going to be ready when I finish work,’ Zoe said. ‘There’s no point in making your dad come out if I’m driving home anyway.’
‘Oh, right.’ Billie nodded. ‘I suppose not. I’ll text him.’
Victor and Zoe walked out together. Before going back to her car, she gave him a brief hug.
He stepped back and blinked. ‘What was that for?’
‘For being such a brilliant neighbour. I’m so happy to see Billie out and about, and I’m sure you and Corrine had something to do with it.’
‘I wish I could take the credit, but it really wasn’t like that. Billie seemed keen enough when I suggested it – I certainly didn’t have to talk her round.’
‘Well, thanks for being brilliant anyway.’
Victor pulled off his hat to ruffle his hair and grinned. ‘We do our best.’
Simon sealed the vial and took off his gloves before sitting behind his desk. He began to type as Zoe rolled down her sleeve.
‘I really appreciate this,’ she said. ‘I realise you wouldn’t normally take routine bloods and?—’
‘It’s not a problem,’ he said, his eyes on the screen. ‘If anything, I ought to apologise for being so rusty. As you say, I’d normally ask Shabana to do routine bloods, so I’m a bit out of practice. I hope it didn’t hurt too much.’
‘Not at all. So…’ Zoe chewed on the inside of her mouth for a moment. The question burned inside her, but she was scared to ask. Simon looked up as her pause stretched on. ‘I mean, do you think I’m right to assume…from what I’ve told you, does it sound like what I suspect it is?’
‘Zoe…’ He gave a tight smile. ‘You know better than to press me on a question like that until we have all the facts. Would you commit to a diagnosis if you didn’t have all the tests back?’
‘No. But what’s your gut telling you?’
‘Nothing because my gut isn’t a qualified medical professional. It’s hard, I know, but we’ll have to wait until your results come back. I can request an expedite if you feel?—’
‘No, I’d hate to queue-jump, not for something that isn’t a proper illness.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far. If it’s causing you problems, then it needs to be addressed.’
‘Yes, but it’s not going to kill me or anything, is it? At least, if it’s what I think it is.’
She let out a breath, her hands twisting together in her lap. Why did she feel so anxious? Why couldn’t she say the words out loud? He’d been the first one to air what she’d already suspected, and she’d told him as much, but even when the possible diagnosis was out there, she still couldn’t bring herself to repeat it.
‘No,’ he said. ‘But I can understand why you might find it difficult to come to terms with. How old are you now?’
‘Thirty-seven.’
He nodded as he went back to the computer. ‘And there’s no way you could be pregnant? I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or your experience, and I’m sure you’ve checked, but…’
‘I have, and no, I’m as sure as I can be that I’m not. But if you would prefer to do a test of your own, then?—’
‘If I can trust anyone’s judgement on that, it has to be yours. Another test won’t be necessary.’
‘You won’t get into trouble for doing this, will you?’ she asked. ‘Because of patient confidentiality, I mean. Because we’re friends and colleagues and you’re not supposed to…’
