Pink Wellies and Flat Caps Read Online Free PDF Page A

not. Is that a smirk on Karen’s face? Dawn looks mortified. Her mascara streaked eyes widen and she looks at me pleadingly. I so wish I had lashes like Dawn. They are so long and full and I imagine a doddle to flutter. I’ve got those stupid wispy things that one layer of mascara just seems to glue together rather than lengthen. I’ve tried those eyelash curler things but when you’ve got zero eyelashes like mine you spend most of your time curling your eyelids. Not something I would recommend.
    ‘I don’t w ant to go on strike or anything Alice. But he said the ‘F’ word and there is no call for that is there and …’
    She stops at the s ound of light tapping. Mark, one of the doctors, pops his head around the door. Karen seductively licks her lips and pushes her chest out and I can’t help wondering when she last had a bra fitting. It’s amazing how many people seem to be lopsided once you’ve had your eyes opened. Oblivious to her seductive pose Mark turns straight to me.
    ‘You do know it’s manic out there. There is only one receptionist and Marcia has had to go home, one of her kids has gone down with measles. I did email you to reshuffle some of the appointments as James and I can’t see everyone, and …’
    He looks at Dawn ’s tear-streaked face.
    ‘Is everything okay? Only we need someone else out there. Can you reschedule something Alice, and for tomorrow too. Maybe get a locum.’
    ‘No one told me Marcia went home.’
    ‘A patient has been very rude to Dawn,’ adds Karen.
    Mark rolls his eyes.
    ‘How about if we discuss it after we’ve got through this crisis? I’ll leave it with you Alice.’
    Without waiting for a response he leaves my office. Bloody hell is there anything else I can do this afternoon? Alice reschedule, Alice book a locum, Alice hold off a strike, Alice sort out Mr Ramsbottom. I am surprised I was not asked to sort out world peace in my coffee break.
    ‘I’m so sorry that Mr Ramsbottom was rude to you Dawn. Take a little break and have a cup of tea. I will phone him this afternoon. Is that okay? I really should sort out these appointments otherwise we’ll have even more irate patients. Karen, would you mind covering while Dawn has a break? I’ll sort out these appointments and then I’ll come and help.’
    Karen pouts.
    ‘I was leaving early today. I did tell you. It’s my brother’s birthday.’
    My phone rings and I answer it eagerly. Anything is better than a confrontation with Karen. It is Mark.
    ‘I’m not being difficult Alice, but can we get this mess sorted, and quickly please?’
    ‘Also …’ continues Karen,
    ‘Of course Mark. I’ll just finish slicing myself into pieces and I’ll be with you,’ I say, barely able to control the anger in my voice.
    I slam down the phone. That wasn’t it though. That wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back, although it came close. What did break the camel’s back was Mark’s email which pinged on my screen at exactly five-thirty. In his ten-page missive, which waffled on about the NHS and its strengths and weaknesses, although in my mind finding strengths in this health centre is more difficult than finding Wally in a Where’s Wally? book. He also gushed quite nauseatingly about how all the wonderful staff at Cranford’s health centre made it the success that it was. So successful in fact that he went on to tell us who the partners were laying off and whose hours would be cut. Surprisingly it wasn’t the sodding practice manager who, in theory, does more work than me but in practice only does bloody half. So, of course, it is yours truly who gets her hours reduced from forty to thirty. At this rate I’ll be lucky if I can even afford a room-share in Battersea. The last thing I wanted was to move down to Cornwall and become some royal household servant, but it was becoming quite clear my nerves and disposition were not up to dealing with the likes of Karen and Mark for much longer, and certainly