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'I'm sure you weren't.' Yona gave him her widest smile and an impulsive pat on the arm. 'Drive safely, now,' she said. 'Salchester's rush-hour traffic is as bad as Edinburgh's—and that's saying something.'

She was turning away, still smiling and thinking how lucky she was in her new boss, when she saw Mike Preston standing in the doorway of his consulting room, frowning. Saw Ted and me laughing together and doesn't approve, she thought. Well, see if I care! 'Good evening, Mr Preston,' she said pleasantly as she passed him.

'Is it?' he asked tersely.

'It is as far as I'm concerned.' She paused.

'I can see that,' he said dryly.

Yes, thinking of his friend and doesn't like to see me on such good terms with Ted. Was this the moment she'd been waiting for to call his bluff?

'On my first day here, you told me that I'd find Lancastrians direct and down-to-earth,' she began firmly. 'That may be true in general, but in your case—-I'm sorry, but I really have to say this—I've never met anybody quite so hostile. It's not my fault that I got the job your friend wanted, so why take it out on me?'

She'd definitely taken the wind out of his sails with that. He stared at her for a long and uncomfortable minute, before admitting guardedly, 'I can't deny that David Lewis would have been my choice for the post—-and he certainly wouldn't have set tongues wagging, by following his boss everywhere, as you're doing,' he said more fiercely.

'But, then, perhaps you're not aware that Professor Burnley is married,' he had the gall to add, as though excusing the bad behaviour of a silly child.

Never mind purple—Yona's eyes were now practically black with fury. 'Thank you, but I do know that the professor is married,' she told him in a throbbing voice. 'I've been to his house and met his wife. They're both being very kind to a stranger in a strange city—which is a lot more than I can say for some
other
folk I've been so unfortunate as to find myself working with!'

Yona was so steamed up that she marched straight on past the stairs, and had to go to her wards the long way round.

'I'd take
the pasta if
I
were you, Doctor,' advised the canteen supervisor in a confidential undertone. 'The eggs in that scrambled stuff are not what they seem, if you take my meaning.'

Yona took her advice and added an apple and a cup of coffee to her lunch tray. It was Saturday so the canteen was half-empty.

She chose a corner table, only to discover what an excellent view it gave her of Mike> Preston charming a radiographer and the junior sister from Outpatients.

This was Yona's first full weekend on call at Salchester Royal Infirmary, and more than a week since she'd given Mike that dressing down, something which—apart from the relief she got from letting off steam—had done nothing to improve the situation. While perfectly friendly and forthcoming with everybody else, he was as stiff as ever with Yona and people had begun to remark on it.

Ted said simply that he just couldn't understand it, while his secretary, Sharon, had let slip one day that Mr Preston was known to be anti women doctors in senior positions— especially if they were attractive.

Charlie Price's opinion was that Mike fancied Yona— something so unlikely that she'd burst out laughing on the spot. 'You can laugh all you like,' Charlie had said, 'but why else would he watch you all the time when he thinks that nobody is looking?'

'If what you say is true—which I doubt—he's only watching and hoping for me to make a mistake,' declared Yona. 'He just can't forgive me for getting the job his friend wanted so much.'

But, watching now in her turn, Yona couldn't help being piqued at being the only person in the hospital who wasn't worth a smile. Smiles transformed Mike Preston's strong, rugged face into one of considerable charm and she could see why those two women were hanging on his every word.

Now, if I were like Nonie Burke, I'd flatter him, lead him on, get him hooked—and then dump him, she thought. And that'd damn well serve him right! Except that she didn't believe—didn't want to believe—that Mike Preston could be so easily taken in.

Neither did she believe that he wanted her interest, but he'd got it all the same—just by being so cool and detached. Any girl with a bit of go about her would feel the same, she excused herself on realising that.

Mike had just said something to send his companions into fits of laughter. Yona felt very isolated and alone in her corner and it was a relief when she was bleeped.

Mike glanced up as she hurried towards the door, his eyes narrowing with speculation. Hoping I'll trip over something and go my length, surmised Yona, but when she glanced towards him from the relative cover of the doorway he was laughing with those two again. If he thinks he can freeze me out of this hospital, he can think again, she resolved. I'd stay on even if I hated the place, rather than give him the satisfaction.

She forgot all about Mike Preston when she arrived hotfoot in Accident and Emergency to be confronted with a semi-conscious patient about to go into respiratory failure. Straight into overdrive. 'Endo-tracheal tube—quickly! And an ambubag for hand-ventilating.'

'Gas and air first, Doctor?'

'No time—and she's too far under to feel any discomfort.'

'Oxygen?'

'First let's get this airway established. And somebody stand by with suction. She's all clogged up by the sound of it.'

'That's better,' Yona could say some ten minutes later. 'Now take some blood—her gases must be completely up the spout. Who's the duty anaesthetist? This lady is going to need a ventilator for forty-eight hours at least. No beds, you say, Sister? Don't make me laugh! This is an emergency. Leave it to me—I'll get on to Chests right away. She's probably one of their regulars.' Her patient stabilised for the moment, Yona dashed to the phone.

'Nice figure,' approved a male charge nurse, looking after her.

'And an even better brain,' observed the young house officer who had put out the call. 'Keep your mind on the job, George, and take over the hand-ventilating while I try to get some blood, like the lady said.'

The next call for Yona was less hectic—to an old lady on Orthopaedics with suspected broncho-pneumonia. She had been operated on three days previously for a fractured neck of femur.

'I can't understand it, Doctor,' said a third-year student nurse, both flustered and proud at being left in charge for the first time. 'We've been sitting her out of bed as much as all the others. And the physios have been trying to walk her—only she seems to have forgotten how.'

'I'm sure you've all done everything you could,' soothed Yona, 'but nobody can foresee everything and it says here in her notes that she has a history of respiratory disease. I'll take a look at her and then, if you point me in the direction of her drugs chart, I'll write her up for a broad-spectrum antibiotic.'

'Thank you very much, Doctor,' said the nurse when all that was done. 'I hope you didn't mind me calling you, only all our duty doctors are in Theatre. Besides, this is a medical rather than a surgical condition, isn't it?'

'Quite right,' agreed Yona. 'You did the right thing.'

'Thanks for saying so, Dr MacFarlane. You see, it was the way she was coughing. I was afraid she was going to choke and then when I saw that plug of filthy phlegm— Would you like a cup of tea, Doctor?' She knew she'd got that right at least. Sister always offered tea to visiting medics at weekends—if the ward wasn't busy.

'That's the best offer I've had all day,' claimed Yona, hiding a smile at the girl's timing.

The nurse sped away to get the tea and Yona was writing up her findings when she heard purposeful footsteps she was beginning to recognise. Mike Preston stopped short in the doorway. From the way he was dressed, he had come straight from Theatre. Yona dragged her eyes away from his manly chest. It would never do to let him see how impressed she was.

'And what are you doing here?' he asked bluntly.

'I was called to Mrs Ada White—the fractured neck of femur you pinned and plated a few days ago. She's developed a low-grade broncho-pneumonia and I've prescribed ampicillin four—hourly. I hope you approve,' she added, in a tone that dared him not to.

'Why you?' he asked, ignoring the challenge.

Yona blinked. 'Because all the duty team were in Theatre, and—'

'It would have done when we'd finished. It's quite unnecessary to involve the medical registrar for such a routine problem,' he interrupted censoriously.

'You know that and I know that—but I wasn't going to stamp on a sweet young thing hell-bent on doing her very best,' Yona returned evenly. 'You can tell her off if you want to. That's your privilege!'

'Of course I'm not going to tell her off,' he said, irritated. 'She was only doing what she thought was right for the patient.'

'So was I,' Yona was saying pointedly when the nurse in question came in with a teatray. There were two cups on it. 'Just wondered if you like some tea, too, Mr Preston...'

'Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you, Linda,' said Mike in a completely different tone. 'This is a big day for you, isn't it—your first in charge?'

'Yes, but we've not been very busy so far. About Mrs White...'

'That's all right. Dr MacFarlane has told me all about her. And don't look so worried—this little hiccup was only to be expected with her history, I'm afraid. Is there anything else worrying you?'

'No, thank you—and, as I said, we're not very busy so— Excuse me, please!' She darted out at the sound of a buzzer alarm coming from the patients' loo.

'Are you having tea?' Mike asked Yona as he picked up the teapot.

Does he wish it were a hand grenade? she wondered. 'I was invited and I accepted so, yes, please,' she returned, nettled at the difference between his way of speaking to the nurse and to herself.

Mike filled the cups and pushed one towards Yona, leaving her to help herself to milk. She thanked him and then sat back, determined not to start a conversation that would only lead to another snub.

He surprised her by saying awkwardly after a moment,

'About David Lewis. I don't mind admitting I was hoping he would get your job. He didn't, though—and you did. And, according to Ted, you've made quite a good start.'

Only 'quite'? 'Thank you,' she said coolly.

'So it's probably best if we put a stop to this—this antipathy we seemed to have fallen into,' he went on, as though she hadn't spoken. 'It serves no useful purpose and is rather unprofessional.'

'I couldn't agree more,' she responded, while simmering secretly at the implication that she was the guilty one in this. 'All the same—'

'No post-mortem, please,' he interrupted. 'That would serve no useful purpose either.'

'It might have cleared the air, though,' said Yona, putting down her cup with rather a clatter and standing up. 'But if that's the way you want it...' She went out, leaving her sentence unfinished. The only ending she'd thought of had been smart and cutting, and they'd just decided to be done with all that.

*

'Hectic weekend, Yona?' asked Ted on Monday morning.

'Par for the course really. Not enough to claim I was rushed off my feet, but the calls were just too frequent for me to leave the hospital in between.' She paused, her eyes bright. 'You'll never guess who I admitted to our unit yesterday!'

'Surprise me,' he invited.

'Our esteemed assistant administrator, Medical Division. She came to Casualty with a sprained ankle and fainted on her way out. I'd just been admitting yet another status asthmaticus—it was quite a weekend for those—so Sister asked me to take a look at her, with her being such a valuable member of staff.'

'Careful, dear, your prejudices are showing,' warned Ted with a broad grin. 'But how come a swooning sprained ankle ended up in a rheumatic unit?'

'The woman was clearly unwell—vaguely feverish, distinctive rash on face and hands, diffuse small bruises which were certainly not due to her recent fall—and when questioned she admitted to fleeting joint pains which she'd put down to having recently taken up badminton.'

Ted's interest had crystallised long before Yona had finished. 'You're thinking of SLE,' he said.

'Yes, so I've sent off samples for ESR and ANF testing, as well as a full white-cell count. She has some early eye symptoms, too. I'll be interested to see what you make of her.'

'The same as you, I shouldn't wonder. And had she never thought of consulting her GP about all this?'

'Yes. She went to see him when she first felt vaguely unwell and he changed her oral contraceptive. Most of her symptoms have shown themselves since then.'

'And how has she taken the news that she's suffering from an ongoing systemic illness?'

'I've left it for you to tell her—once it's certain. Anyway, I think she was rather relieved to have an excuse to lie back and stop trying to cope.'

'If you ask me, it's a very good thing she did sprain her ankle,' said Ted. 'Let's go upstairs and look at her right away.'

'Sorry, Ted,' said Yona, 'but I have to give a group of first-year nurses an introduction to rheumatic diseases, but I wanted to put you in the picture first.'

'Good girl. Off you go, then—but don't blind 'em with too much science at this stage. It might put them off and you know how hard it is to get good nurses.'

'Don't worry—it'll be the Janet and John version for starters. Did Sharon tell you we've got an extra-big clinic this afternoon?'

'She did—she also told me you're getting the keys of the new flat at the end of the week. Are you excited?'

'Ecstatic,' she claimed as she dashed off. She'd done almost nothing about furnishings and had been hoping to dash down to the shops later on today, but an outsize clinic had certainly put paid to that. I should have gone for something to rent furnished, she was thinking as she hurried round a corner and almost collided with Mike Preston.

He sidestepped smartly and said with the utmost politeness, 'You're in a great hurry, Dr MacFarlane.'

'I'm on my way to lecture to some nurses and I've cut things rather fine.'