to hold back the tears. She took a deep breath. 'I feel the same way, Greg. I love you, too.'
She put the phone down slowly. That was that, then. She'd burnt her bridges or perhaps her bolt hole. Strangely, the effect was one of relief. Going backwards would have been a huge mistake. Greg might make a good friend but, as far as a partner in a marriage went, he had just revealed a rather telling inadequacy. Greg was no different to any other man when it came to the crunch. Five minutes without her and he'd already found a replacement. Sophie knew she shouldn't blame Greg. Perhaps it was just her pride that was wounded.
Sophie shook her head, still staring at the phone. Fancy being rejected twice on the same day. Oliver wanted her to go back to Greg. And Greg didn't want her back. Was she missing something important here? Still grappling with the new and rather disturbing notion, Sophie turned to find herself under intense scrutiny. Not, as she had expected, from Janet Muir, but from Oliver Spencer.
When had he come in? He was holding a patient file. Dimly, Sophie remembered hearing the files being sorted. Just before Greg had told her he loved her. Before she had repeated the same vow. She could see the echoes of it in Oliver's dark eyes. Sophie straightened her spine. What did she care what Oliver thought? Right now, she'd had quite enough of dealing with men. Sophie turned away and leaned over the counter.
'Pagan? Would you like to come through now?'
If Pagan Ellis's pregnancy was starting to show it was well disguised by the flowing, long dress in shades of orange and crimson. Her thick, dark hair was piled on top of her head today, with long, curling wisps catching on the large, hooped earrings.
'I've decided,' Pagan told Sophie breathlessly. 'On the beach.'
'Have you?' Sophie tried to sound interested. 'Can you take your shawl off for a minute so I can take your blood pressure?'
The tangle of bracelets and bangles made their familiar musical accompaniment to Pagan's movements. She took no notice of Sophie winding the cuff around her upper arm.
'Dolphin Point,' she said dreamily. 'Isn't that perfect?'
'I have no idea where it is,' Sophie confessed. She put her stethoscope into position and began to deflate the cuff slowly.
'It's out on the Banks Peninsula,' Pagan informed her. 'Sort of across the harbour from Akaroa.'
Sophie silently finished her measurement. She removed the cuff, folded her stethoscope and sat down at her desk to record the result, still silently. She put the pen down carefully and looked directly at Pagan.
'That would be at least two hours' drive from Christchurch,' she said flatly.
'Plus the boat ride.' Pagan grinned. 'There's four-wheel-drive access to the beach but it's a bit of a long haul and I've only got my bike. I don't drive.'
'Neither do I,' Sophie said firmly. 'At least, not that far and especially not that far to try and deliver a baby.'
Pagan Ellis was unperturbed. 'My midwife, Wendy, has got a four-wheel-drive. She's quite happy to give you a ride. She's really keen. I think she wants to end up on the six o'clock news for the most unusual birth story.'
'The birth might very well end up on the six o'clock news,' Sophie told Pagan seriously. 'It might well be a disaster story involving the death of a mother and/or her baby due to unforeseen complications. I imagine the hunt for whoever was responsible for medical care and the criticism for allowing it to happen would be an absolute feast for the media.'
'Oh, nothing's going to go wrong,' Pagan said serenely. 'I've had a tarot reading and my clairvoyant is quite happy. I've been going to her for years. It's really hard to get an appointment. She's booked up for months in advance. People fly in from all over the country to see her. She knows what she's talking about.'
'I'm sure she does.' Sophie wondered, briefly, whether the clairvoyant's bank balance was healthier than her own. 'But I know what I'm talking about, too, Pagan,
She put the phone down slowly. That was that, then. She'd burnt her bridges or perhaps her bolt hole. Strangely, the effect was one of relief. Going backwards would have been a huge mistake. Greg might make a good friend but, as far as a partner in a marriage went, he had just revealed a rather telling inadequacy. Greg was no different to any other man when it came to the crunch. Five minutes without her and he'd already found a replacement. Sophie knew she shouldn't blame Greg. Perhaps it was just her pride that was wounded.
Sophie shook her head, still staring at the phone. Fancy being rejected twice on the same day. Oliver wanted her to go back to Greg. And Greg didn't want her back. Was she missing something important here? Still grappling with the new and rather disturbing notion, Sophie turned to find herself under intense scrutiny. Not, as she had expected, from Janet Muir, but from Oliver Spencer.
When had he come in? He was holding a patient file. Dimly, Sophie remembered hearing the files being sorted. Just before Greg had told her he loved her. Before she had repeated the same vow. She could see the echoes of it in Oliver's dark eyes. Sophie straightened her spine. What did she care what Oliver thought? Right now, she'd had quite enough of dealing with men. Sophie turned away and leaned over the counter.
'Pagan? Would you like to come through now?'
If Pagan Ellis's pregnancy was starting to show it was well disguised by the flowing, long dress in shades of orange and crimson. Her thick, dark hair was piled on top of her head today, with long, curling wisps catching on the large, hooped earrings.
'I've decided,' Pagan told Sophie breathlessly. 'On the beach.'
'Have you?' Sophie tried to sound interested. 'Can you take your shawl off for a minute so I can take your blood pressure?'
The tangle of bracelets and bangles made their familiar musical accompaniment to Pagan's movements. She took no notice of Sophie winding the cuff around her upper arm.
'Dolphin Point,' she said dreamily. 'Isn't that perfect?'
'I have no idea where it is,' Sophie confessed. She put her stethoscope into position and began to deflate the cuff slowly.
'It's out on the Banks Peninsula,' Pagan informed her. 'Sort of across the harbour from Akaroa.'
Sophie silently finished her measurement. She removed the cuff, folded her stethoscope and sat down at her desk to record the result, still silently. She put the pen down carefully and looked directly at Pagan.
'That would be at least two hours' drive from Christchurch,' she said flatly.
'Plus the boat ride.' Pagan grinned. 'There's four-wheel-drive access to the beach but it's a bit of a long haul and I've only got my bike. I don't drive.'
'Neither do I,' Sophie said firmly. 'At least, not that far and especially not that far to try and deliver a baby.'
Pagan Ellis was unperturbed. 'My midwife, Wendy, has got a four-wheel-drive. She's quite happy to give you a ride. She's really keen. I think she wants to end up on the six o'clock news for the most unusual birth story.'
'The birth might very well end up on the six o'clock news,' Sophie told Pagan seriously. 'It might well be a disaster story involving the death of a mother and/or her baby due to unforeseen complications. I imagine the hunt for whoever was responsible for medical care and the criticism for allowing it to happen would be an absolute feast for the media.'
'Oh, nothing's going to go wrong,' Pagan said serenely. 'I've had a tarot reading and my clairvoyant is quite happy. I've been going to her for years. It's really hard to get an appointment. She's booked up for months in advance. People fly in from all over the country to see her. She knows what she's talking about.'
'I'm sure she does.' Sophie wondered, briefly, whether the clairvoyant's bank balance was healthier than her own. 'But I know what I'm talking about, too, Pagan,
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