‘No, I won’t. So don’t worry, I won’t be here to put the wrong cup on the wrong saucer.’

He switched on the gas ring, ignoring the jibe. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Having dinner with Roger and Emily.’

‘Who?’

‘Dr Willis and his wife.’

Gabe said sarkily, ‘Again?’

He never used to be sarky.

‘Yes, again,’ Sally mimicked him.

‘Why?’

Why indeed? She hadn’t the foggiest. But Roger had said they had something they wanted to tell her so she’d agreed. ‘I don’t know.’ Pointedly Sally said, ‘Maybe they enjoy my company.’

Gabe exhaled heavily and began breaking eggs into a bowl. Sally picked up her keys and limped out of the kitchen.

They’d always got on so well together. How had it come to this?

’Ten o’clock, love, with Dr Burton.’

Sally dragged her attention back to the elderly woman on the other side of the counter, checked the lists on the computer screen and said, ‘That’s fine, Betty, take a seat.’

‘You all right this morning, love? Looking a bit peaky.’ Sally forced a smile; it was always a joy to know you looked as rubbish as you felt.

‘I’m OK, Betty. Just a bit ... tired.’ Tired of being criticised, tired of hearing she looked peaky, tired of being nagged at because she’d put the omelette pan away in the wrong sodding cupboard.

‘Oh hello, Maureen, didn’t see you there.’ Betty beamed at Maureen, sitting over by the magazines with her knitting.

‘How’re you doing, Betty? I’m not so bad myself. Feet still playing up but I’m trying some new tablets, so fingers crossed. And our Lauren’s expecting again, that’s cheered us all up.’

‘Ooh, lovely. What d’you think of Sally over there, then? Reckon she’s looking a bit peaky, do you?’

Oh, for crying out loud.

‘Probably too many late nights,’ said Maureen, peering over the top of her glasses at Sally perched on a stool on the other side of the reception desk. She winked saucily. ‘Got yourself a new boyfriend, love? Burning the candle at both ends? Too much canoodling and what-have-you, that’s my guess. Am I right, hmm?’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Betty. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of morning sickness.’

Oh, for crying out loud .. .

Across the waiting room the old regulars, Maureen and Betty, were chuckling away. Half a dozen other patients were all watching expectantly too, waiting for her to come out with some chirpy reply.

To her absolute horror Sally realised that she was actually physically about to start crying out loud. Her vision blurred with tears and her throat tightened from the inside. Attempting to duck down out of sight behind the computer screen, she almost toppled off her stool. Her walking stick was out of reach, propped up against the filing cabinet. If it hadn’t been for her leg she would’ve made a dash for the bathroom but she was too clumsy and too slow. Even Maureen with her gammy feet and Bettywith her lumbago were faster, peering over the counter and clucking with concern.

Since they’d already seen the tears, Sally let them slide down her face. ‘S-sorry, I’m not pregnant. Just having a b-bit of an off day.’

‘Oh, love, go on, let it all out. Here, have a tissue, don’t go dripping mascara on that lovely shirt of yours. There there, don’t worry. So, boyfriend trouble, is it? Is he giving you the runaround?’

Everyone in the waiting room was agog and staring. All the magazines had been put down.

Mortified but unable to help herself, Sally sobbed noisily for a couple of minutes before blowing her nose and shaking her head. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’

‘Good,’ a middle-aged man said crisply. ‘Now you know how we feel, having to sit here knowing that you know all our shameful secrets.’

‘Like piles,’ mused the older man next to him.

‘Speak for yourself,’ a girl in a purple sweater retorted. ‘I don’t have piles.’ As several people smiled she said, ‘I have an irritable bowel.’

‘And my boyfriend isn’t giving me the runaround.’ Sally took yet another tissue from Betty and wiped her eyes. ‘Because I don’t have a boyfriend. And my flatmate’s being really mean .. . I don’t think he w-wants me there any more but I d-don’t know why and I just feel like such a f-f-failure ...’

‘Men are nothing but trouble.You’re better off without them.’ The girl in the purple sweater said,

‘My last boyfriend broke my nose. He hit me across the bedroom then told me it was my fault for brushing my hair in an annoying way.’

Sally shook her head. ‘I’m useless with men. I bought my last boyfriend a course of tooth-whitening treatment and he ended up running off with the dental nurse.’

‘My husband’s a drinker,’ Betty chimed in. ‘Drinking’s all he ever does. Forty years we’ve been married and he’s never managed to hold down a job for more than a week.’

Competitiveness stirring inside her, Sally wiped her nose and said, ‘One of my exes drank too.

And another one jilted me practically at the altar!’

The girl in the purple sweater, not to be outdone, blurted out, ‘I came home from work once and my ex was in the garden pegging out the washing.’

Everyone in the waiting room looked at her. Maureen said, ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’

‘He was doing it wearing my best bra and knickers.’

God, that was something she’d never even considered. Sally said mournfully, ‘I’m better off on my own.’

‘Come on, not all men are awful.’ Maureen rose spiritedly to their defence. ‘My son’s a lovely lad. He’d make any girl happy. In fact, you two would make a wonderful couple. I could introduce you to him if you like.’ She was nodding eagerly at • Sally.

Next to her, leaning back, Betty was mouthing, ‘Gay.’ Sally stammered, ‘Um ... thanks . .

‘The thing is, even when you think people are happy together, chances are they aren’t. Everyone just likes to pretend.’ Holding up the copy of Hello! she’d been reading, the girl in purple declared, ‘This magazine’s six months old. Look at these two on the cover, wrapped round each other like a couple of eels. But are they still together now? No they’re not. And it’s the same all the way through the magazine! Everyone’s split up since then, split up and sold their stories about how hellish their lives together really were, and you’ve wasted all that time envying them ... I mean, what is the point?’

‘By ‘eck, love, steady on.’ An elderly man in a flat cap spoke for the first time. He shook his head and said good-naturedly, ‘There’s plenty of happy marriages out there, trust me.’

The girl in purple cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘Could have fooled me.’

‘You’ve just got off to a bad start, pet.’ The man’s eyes crinkled at the corners; he sounded like the voice-over in the Hovis ads. ‘Everyone has someone who’s right for them. It’s just a question of keeping going till you find them.’

‘I’d have better luck finding the Loch Ness monster,’ said the girl in purple.

‘You’ll get there in the end.’ His smile was genial. ‘And let me tell you, it’s worth it.You might not think it to look at me now, but I were a bit of a jack-the-lad in my day. I had my share of girlfriends. Never saw the point in settling down, I were having too much fun. Then I met Jessie.

She worked in a bakery in Bradford and the moment I walked into that shop and saw her behind the counter I knew she were the one for me. Eyes like stars, she had. Before I even heard her speak I fell for her, hook, line and sinker. We started courting and after a month I asked her to marry me. Nobody could believe it, not the family, not me mates down the pit, not the lasses I’d been out with before Jessie came along. But I knew it were the right thing to do, you see. I’d found the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.’

The whole of the waiting room was on the edge of their seats, listening to him tell the story in his simple heartfelt way. ‘And?’ prompted the girl in purple.

‘We’ve been married forty-nine years, pet. And happier together than I ever thought possible.

My Jessie means all the world to me.’

It all sounded too perfect. Sally frowned. ‘Don’t you ever argue?’

‘Argue?’ The man chuckled. ‘Of course we argue! Hasn’t been a single day when we haven’t had a fight about summat. And let me tell you, I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

BRRRRR went the buzzer, making everyone jump.

‘Mr Allerdyce, please, to room four,’ Dr Willis’s voice came over the intercom.

‘That’s me.’ Having leaned heavily on his walking sticks in order to haul himself to his feet, Mr Allerdyce tipped his cap to everyone in the waiting room.

When he’d made his way out and the door had closed behind him, the middle-aged man said,

‘His wife probably can’t stand the sight of him.’

Everyone in the waiting room turned and gave the man a stony look.

‘Sorry.’ He flinched under the glare of their disapproval. ‘Just a joke.’

‘Are you divorced?’ said the girl in purple.

He looked surprised. ‘Yes, I am.’

The girl nodded. ‘I thought so.’

Chapter 50

’You’re leaving the practice?’ Sally couldn’t believe it; she loved working for Dr Willis. Her whole world was crumbling around her. What had she done to deserve this?

‘Isn’t it exciting? We can’t wait.’ Emily beamed across the dinner table at her. ‘Skipton’s where I grew up, all my family are there, it’s just such a wonderful place to live. Everyone’s so friendly, not like down here. Do you know the Dales?’

‘Not really.’ Sally was still struggling to take in the news. The other doctors were OK, pleasant enough, but Roger Willis was her favourite. The practice wouldn’t be the same without him.