"Dr Smith will be in to see you in a moment," the nurse said kindly giving Clara a little pat on the shoulder. She pulled the curtain closed around Clara's bed as she left.
Clara sank back into the pillows and closed her eyes. She was absolutely exhausted after the events of the afternoon which now saw her lying in a sterile hospital bed, her face as pale as the starched white sheets. An IV line snaked up into her hand. She pulled the sheets up high to cover the unflattering NHS issue hospital gown.
She had endured poking, prodding and a chest x-ray before the final diagnosis was pronounced. Pneumonia they said, and a nasty bout too. She would be in hospital for days. This would not do. She had reports to write and places to be.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the curtain being pulled back. Dr Smith no doubt. Just what she needed; another one coming in to annoy her when all she wanted to do was sleep.
She heard the chart being picked up from the end of her bed followed by the annoying sound of a pen clicking rapidly like her students often did when they wanted to irritate her. The clicking ceased and she had the distinct feeling that this new doctor was staring at her. Clara reluctantly dragged her eyelids open.
"Dr John Smith at your service," he said giving her a wink. It was The Doctor, her doctor with a white coat over the top of his usual black suit.
"What are you doing here?" she asked in disbelief, sitting up onto her elbows.
"Can't I visit my friend in hospital?"
"Can't you visit like a normal person without pretending to be a Doctor?" she said gesturing to his get-up.
"Ah, there's no fooling you is there Clara?" he said fondly as he discarded the chart at the foot of the bed and approached her. "And for the record, I'm not pretending to be anything. I cannot however speak for that so called Doctor who attended to you this afternoon though. His credentials are fake."
"What did you do to him?" she demanded.
"Nothing.. Dr. Malik is just taking a little nap in the broom closet."
She flopped back down onto the pillows, headache pounding. The shock of seeing him here had just about done her in. Clara covered her eyes with her free arm, her other one being occupied with the IV line that was still stinging at her wrist.
"How did you find me here?" she asked.
"I was at the school today. Courtney Woods told me you did a very impressive smurf impersonation this morning, before collapsing on the floor in front of the class."
"Courtney told you?"
"Yes, Clara. I was at the school," he repeated slowly. "Today's Wednesday if you recall. I had the whole day planned out and now.." he gestured to her ailing form on the bed. "You're completely useless in this state."
She hadn't noticed when he entered but he had brought in a large bag with him. He plopped it on the bed and withdrew a pair of examination gloves and various pieces of medical equipment.
Clara's eyes widened. "What are you doing?" she asked, her face blanching whiter, if that were even possible. If she could retreat any further into the pillows, she would have.
"What does it look like?" he said as he snapped the gloves on, face completely deadpan. Her cheeks suddenly flushed pink. Was that embarrassment or her fever kicking up a notch?
"Dr. Malik has already.."
"Dr. Malik is an idiot," he said taking the stethoscope from around his neck and warming the cold metal chest piece with a couple of puffs of breath and a quick polish on his coat.
He noted her petrified expression as she clutched her gown around her. "Oh, come on Clara. You don't have anything I haven't seen before."
"That's not the point," she hissed, her voice taking an an edge of desperation. "You're not a real.."
She was suddenly silenced by a thermometer being placed in her open mouth mid-sentence.
"Shush," he said turning his attention to the state of her lungs. The Doctor gently hauled her into a sitting position and placed the chest piece of the stethoscope on her back.
"Breathe in," he ordered.
She complied reluctantly, silently fuming away.
"And out." The Doctor heard the unmistakable crackle and her breathing hitched as she tried to suppress a cough. He shifted the device lower and repeated his order.
She made an attempt to speak with the thermometer still in her mouth. "They already told me I have pneumonia. Why are you..?"
"Quiet."
She breathed in deeply and the rattle was even more apparent this time. Clara felt a tickle and could no longer suppress the cough that was building. The Doctor withdrew his hand and set the earpiece back around his neck. The thermometer twitched in her mouth as she coughed weakly, holding her sides.
He plucked it from her before she had the opportunity to spit it across the room or worse still, bite it in half.
After a few more wet coughs, Clara seemed to regain some control of her breathing so The Doctor looked at the reading from the thermometer and reached for the chart to make a note. 38.5°C and no doubt on the way up.
He reached into his bag and brought out a blood pressure meter, attaching the cuff to her upper arm before she could protest.
"Why don't you just use your sonic screwdriver?" she asked wincing as he inflated the cuff painfully around her arm. He noted the reading on the dial before releasing the pressure slightly.
"This is far more interesting than the sonic." He tore the cuff off her arm before throwing it back into the bag. "It's almost medieval," he said with a minute trace of glee. There was more scribbling on the chart.
He turned his attention now to her lymph glands, gently palpating her neck in tiny circles. Her patience was wearing thin. The movement caused her to cough again and she turned her head away from him to cough into her clenched fist.
"Happy now?" she said darkly as he withdrew his hands from her neck.
He snapped the gloves off and lobbed them into a nearby bin. "No, I'm not happy Clara. You're very unwell and I have so many patients to see today."
"Other patients? You're seeing other patients?"
"Oh, that's very telling," he said. "It may have escaped your notice on the way in here Clara, but this is a hospital, filled with hundreds of sick people. You are not the only person here you know."
"But you can't do this!" she said, her voice raising above the general noise in the neighbouring cubicles.
"Clara, keep your voice down. You'll wake the whole ward."
A nurse stuck her head in through the curtain. "Dr Smith. You're needed in Paediatrics."
"Paediatrics!?" said Clara incredulously.
"Yes, Clara. Children. Like you but only smaller and less petulant."
"This is bonkers!" she said as she collapsed into the pillows and covered her face with her hands unable to deal with any more of his lunacy. Clara suddenly felt short of breath and every muscle in her body seemed to cry out at once.
"I'll be back later," he reassured her as he gathered his bag to leave.
"Doctor, wait!" she said grabbing him by the arm. "Is there something going on here in the hospital? Are there aliens?" Am I safe?
He paused for a moment. Clara looked genuinely terrified. It was one thing to fight aliens when you are fit and well and quite another when you're tethered to an IV, feverish and vulnerable.
"There's nothing going on Clara. Stop thinking and get some rest."
Clara let go of his arm, relaxing somewhat. Sleep did sound like a good idea. He shot her a playful grin as he left, pulling the curtain closed around her bed.
Rule Number 1, The Doctor lies.