‘Not for everyone.’ Ally stared at the results without seeing them. ‘Some people are lucky enough to have constancy and permanent relationships, and that’s what I want for Charlie. I don’t want her hurt.’
He paced over to the window, the tension visible in those broad shoulders as he stared out across the fells. ‘So you refuse to take any risks or have any fun of your own in case it ends up hurting Charlie.’
‘And me.’ Ally stared bleakly at his broad back. ‘In case it ends up hurting me. Which is what you’d do, Sean.’
He turned then, his dark eyes intense. ‘You don’t know that.’
She knew that. Dear God, she knew. ‘You’d break my heart, Sean—’
‘This is totally illogical.’ He raked long fingers through his hair and made an impatient sound. ‘What is it you want? Guarantees? There are never any guarantees—people never start a relationship knowing how’s it going to end.’
‘You do. You’ve told me as much.’ She held his gaze steadily. ‘You’re very honest about the fact that you avoid intimacy and you don’t want children, so a relationship with you can only have one ending—and it’s not the one I want.’
He stared at her for a long moment, his jaw tense. ‘There are reasons for the way I feel.’
‘Share them.’
There was a rap on the door and Helen entered with a pile of notes, smiling briefly as she noticed Sean.
‘Oh, hello, there, Dr Nicholson. I didn’t know you were in here.’
To his credit, Sean managed a fairly genuine smile. Ally was ready to scream at the practice manager for her lousy timing. Sean had been about to open up to her, she was sure of it, but instead he glanced at his watch and gave Ally a brief nod that reflected none of the intimacy of their conversation only seconds earlier.
‘I’d better get on. I’ve got patients to see.’
And with that he strode out, leaving Ally in a worse state than she’d been in when he’d entered the room ten minutes before.
Helen discussed a few problems with her and then left, leaving Ally to pull herself together before the stream of patients started.
Her first patient was Jenny Monroe, looking white and strained, a small bandage visible under her tights.
‘Hello, Jenny.’ Ally pushed her own problem to one side. ‘I gather you managed to get an appointment very quickly?’
Jenny nodded. ‘They rang me the day after because they had a cancellation. I had it taken out, but they said they think it’s malignant. I have to go back on Thursday for the results.’
‘I’m sorry, Jenny.’ Ally felt a rush of sympathy for the young woman. Why was life so unfair? Jenny was so young and the diagnosis of malignant melanoma was a serious one.
‘They said that they’d have to measure the thickness of the mole and that will give them an idea of how serious it is.’ Jenny looked sick and suddenly burst into tears. ‘I just keep thinking I’m going to die.’
‘You mustn’t think that!’ Ally said firmly. ‘You don’t have all the facts yet, and when you do we’ll just make sure you have the very best treatment. You aren’t going to die, Jenny.’
Jenny sniffed and took the tissue Ally offered her. ‘Thanks. I suppose I’m just being stupid. People do survive cancer, don’t they, even if they’re told they’re not going to?’
‘They do, indeed. Positive thinking is terribly important in fighting any illness, Jenny,’ Ally agreed, ‘but you haven’t been told any of those things—you’re just letting your imagination run away with you. With luck it will have been caught in the very early stages—you’ll probably just need regular checks.’
‘I read in a magazine about using interferon for skin cancer—would I be suitable for that?’
Ally blinked. Nowadays patients were so much better informed than they used to be, and it was always quite tough on the GP who had to be three steps ahead of what was being printed in the press.
‘Skin cancers haven’t generally responded well to chemotherapy, but you’re right that alpha interferon has shown some very promising results. I’m not sure exactly which patients it’s suitable for but when we have more details from the hospital we can ask the consultant. You could ask them at your next appointment. It’s important that you understand the treatment they’re recommending.’
Jenny bit her lip. ‘I can’t, Dr McGuire. Once they start talking about cancer I know I’ll just clam up. I hear that one word and then I don’t hear anything else.’