Their Very Special Marriage by Kate Hardy Page A

rolled up her sleeve to show him. ‘They don’t hurt or anything.’
    â€˜And they’re nothing to worry about,’ Oliver said when he’d examined the small nodes. ‘It’s part of JIA—you sometimes get small bumps and lumps on areas where there’s pressure from you sitting or leaning. You might get the odd temperature every now and then, too, Paula.’
    â€˜There’s an awful lot to take in,’ Mrs Russell said.
    Oliver nodded. ‘I know, and you’re bound to have a lot of questions. I’ve got some leaflets that might help—you can’t be expected to remember everything I’ve said when you get home. You might find it useful to join a support group. There are a couple of national groups which have meetings locally in Maidenhead—Rachel found the local contact numbers for you.’ He took the leaflets from his desk and the note Rachel had written with the telephone numbers. ‘If you’d like to come and see me or Rachel in a couple of weeks, we’ll see how you’re getting on. You should get an appointment through the hospital to see the rheumatologist again, and also the eye specialist.’ He printed the prescription, signed it and handed it to Paula. ‘And if either of you are worried about anything in the meantime, or you have any questions, just give me a call.’
    â€˜Thank you, Dr Bedingfield,’ Paula said. ‘At least I know what’s wrong with me now, so they’ll shut up at school and stop saying I’m being lazy or a skiver.’
    â€˜There are some good long words in those leaflets,’ Oliver said with a grin. ‘Go and blind ’em with science.’
    â€˜I will,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘Definitely!’
    * * *
    Oliver managed to get home that evening on time—purely because Caroline walked into his consulting room before he could call his next patient.
    â€˜What are you doing?’ he asked in horror as she calmly logged him off the system and switched off his computer. ‘I’ve got patients to see!’
    â€˜I’ll see them. Go home,’ she said.
    â€˜But—’
    â€˜But, nothing. You’re supposed to be going out to dinner with your wife. So you are not going to work late tonight, Oliver Bedingfield. And before you fuss about who’s going to lock up the surgery, I will. I’ll drop the surgery keys off at your place on my way home.’
    It was one of the most transparent excuses he’d ever heard. And he had a good answer for it, to make quite sure she didn’t get to see Rachel. ‘I’ll lend you my spare set for tonight.’
    She gave him a knowing look. ‘Right. Have a nice time.’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    Her voice softened. ‘Oliver. Just tell her what we talked about.’
    â€˜I...’ How could he? Rachel would be furious that he’d discussed her with another woman, that he’d laid bare all the private things between them. Including the fact that their sex life was less lively than a damp squib.
    â€˜Just talk to her. It’ll all be fine.’
    He wasn’t quite so sure.
    â€˜Go.’ She took his hand, pulled him out of his chair and virtually pushed him out of the room. Oliver, deciding it would be pointless to protest—particularly as he knew she was right—simply did what she suggested and went home.
    Rachel was getting ready when he arrived.
    â€˜You’re home early!’
    Why did she look so shocked? He wasn’t always late...was he? ‘Cally pushed me out of the door.’
    â€˜Oh.’
    His wife’s face clouded. Oliver frowned. What was the matter? Surely Caroline had just done her a favour? Or wasshe worried that he’d been listening to his mother’s usual rant about how a mother’s place was in the home, not at work, and was planning to use Sophie’s illness as an excuse to replace Rachel in the surgery and make her