Stella is ill

Another two weeks passed during which Patrick and Stella enjoyed working along each other in their newly established routine. Every day, they would take short moments of taking a cup of tea together, one brushing their hands against the other, taking one's coat, adjusting his tie, a fleeting kiss on the cheek here and there.

Until one Thursday morning, Patrick was baffled when he wanted to open the door to the surgery but found it still locked. He dug out his key and let himself in. Just when he entered, he heard the phone ring and went to answer it.

It was Shelagh telling him Stella had called in sick just after he had left. Shelagh offered to cover the morning at the surgery after she had dropped off Angela at daycare and little Teddy at the neighbour's.

Patrick enjoyed working alongside his wife for a change but he also kept worrying about Stella. When Shelagh delivered the list for his house calls, he said. "I am going to stop by Mrs Gillespie, just to make certain she is alright. I know she told you it was just a cold but knowing her she will not let on too much. I feel I owe it to her."

Shelagh smiled. "You are such a kind man, Patrick. I am certain she could use a little check up. I am going to call Nonnatus House and see whether someone can cover afternoon surgery at the desk, I have to fetch the children by then."

"Thank you, dear," Patrick said, while he got up from his desk, approached his wife, took her hands into both of his and kissed them carefully. Shelagh smiled at his signature gesture for his love. "You don't look all to well yourself, if you don't mind me saying," Patrick said, his voice coloured by worry.

"I am alright, Patrick," Shelagh said in her usual firm voice. "I am just tired, although the Valium is helping me a lot. I feel a lot calmer, since I increased the dose from your recommendation."

"Increased the dose?" Patrick asked worriedly. "Why, you never told me?"

"It is just one more pill in the afternoon. And ever since I feel that when I am not too tired, I am almost back to my old self."

Patrick opened his mouth to reply but decided otherwise. There was no need to argue with his wife when she was using a tone that definite. He would have to wait for another occasion to voice his concerns.

He absentmindedly kissed his wife goodbye and walked out of his office, took his coat and bag and went to his afternoon rounds. Before the first call on the list, he stopped at Stella's house. He thought that he would never visit her at home while she was staying there alone, he would never dare compromise her reputation. But now, she was ill and he was her GP. Technically, he wasn't as she was not registered with him. But people knew him as a doctor and would know why he was here now.

Patrick rang the doorbell several times. Just when he considered leaving again, he heard footsteps from inside and Stella opened the door. She was wearing a yellow dressing gown. Patrick normally didn't show any reactions at the sight of his patients but now, seeing a very pale Stella, eyes glassy and red-rimmed, her body shivering with fever, he gasped.

"Stella, to bed with you right now," he exclaimed while he entered Stella's house.

"I am alright, Patrick," she said, her voice meek, almost a whisper. "I am alright. I was in bed. I had to open the door because someone rang the doorbell."

"Now, no nit picking, Mrs Gillespie," Patrick replied. "I am here to check on you before my rounds and I was right in assuming you were ill with more than just a cold."

Stella nodded while she slowly walked into the living room and sank down on her settee.

"I am sorry, I feel a little dizzy. I feel safer sitting down," she explained.

"Stella, please. I am going to find you a few blankets and I want you to stay here and take a rest. When is Caroline due home?"

"She'll come in late tonight. You should know, it is Thursday. orchestra practice."

Patrick smiled. "Even when you're ill you can't hold back chastising me."

Stella gave him a tired smile. "And now you should go on your rounds. You are going to be late for afternoon surgery if you don't hurry up." Patrick looked around and retrieved a blanket from an armchair next to the settee. He tightly tucked it around Stella. When he was done, he carefully adjusted her hair, in the process checking her temperature with his hand.

Then he sat on the side of the settee, carefully stroking Stella's cheek and said: "Don't worry about me for a change. Take a rest and let Caroline do anything that needs to be done around the house. Promise me."

Stella who was already dozing off, nodded barely visible.

Patrick gave her one last loving look, quietly got up and left for his rounds.

A few hours later, Patrick pulled up in front of Stella's house again. It was dark by now, and a cold breeze blew through the streets. Patrick noticed light in a few rooms downstairs and wondered whether orchestra practice might have been cancelled and Caroline was home already. This time Stella opened the door after he had only rung once.

"Stella," Patrick exclaimed. "What are you doing? Are you cooking? I told you to take a rest!"

"Please come in, Patrick," Stella said sharply.

Patrick entered and put down his bag in the hallway. "Stella, I am sorry," he said and extended his hand to gently brush her cheek. "I am concerned. And you should not take chances with a fever this high."

"I know," Stella said hoarsely, "but Caroline needs to eat. And I do too, by the way."

Patrick looked at her adoringly. "Of course. How could I not think of it," he said. "Come on." And went into the kitchen where Stella had been chopping vegetables in order to prepare a stew."

There, he shrugged off first his coat, then his suit jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves and stuffed a tea towel into the waistband of his trousers in lack of an apron.

"What's all this?" Stella who had come up behind him asked.

"I am going to finish what you started," Patrick explained. "You can talk me through because I do not know what I am supposed to be doing here, but you are going to sit down and cover yourself with a blanket. Should I get it from the living room?"

Stella smiled and nodded. "Yes, there is quite a large knitted blanket which you could bring. A blue and red one. My mother made it for me when I first left home. I left it on the settee."

Patrick returned with said item and affectionately wrapped Stella's body into the blanket, thereby enclosing her with his arms into a tight embrace from behind. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissed her cheek and whispered: "You must feel so very poorly, dear. You are burning up."

Stella turned her head so she could look him in the eye. "I am burning up, yes. And I feel pretty ill. Thank you for looking after me."

Patrick smiled and gave her another quick peck on the cheek. "Now to work. But first, I am going to make you a fresh cup of tea. Where do you keep the leaves?"

When the tea was ready, Patrick began with cooking dinner, having Stella closely watch from her place at the table. It took him half an hour to cut all ingredients to Stella's satisfaction and prepare the simple stew according to her instructions. When the dish was finally simmering on the stove, Patrick removed his tea towel apron, washed his hands at the sink and approached Stella who rested her head in her left hand, with the elbow propped up on the kitchen table.

"Stella, now that we are ready, you will go to bed. I am going to take you upstairs and I will stay with you until you are asleep." When she wanted to protest, Patrick firmly said: "Doctor's orders." Patrick stood next to her when she got up and held her when she threatened to topple over; he had expected her to feel dizzy, since her glassy eyes were showing him that her fever was again on the rise.

Patrick put an arm around Stella's waist to support her and slowly walked her upstairs into her bedroom. He felt awkward to enter this room with her. He had occasionally fantasized what her bedroom might look like and how it would feel to go there with her - not while she was ill, though. And not that he would ever dare doing so. He was a married man and he knew he would never break his vows. What he and Stella had he considered a particularly close form of friendship, nothing more. And there were certain boundaries he might occasionally dream of crossing but he knew he would never do so in real life.

He noticed how there were two blankets and two pillows in the bed. He, too, had always had Marianne's bed made, even months after her death, as if he was expecting her back any day. He could not stand sleeping next to an empty bed and having some bedding ready had been comfort. The least bit of comfort, but comfort.

"You have a good night's sleep now," he said gently while carefully sitting her down on her bed, covering her with her blankets after she had laid down on her back. Patrick had made sure to take the knitted blanket with them and Stella gave him a weary smile and he watched as her eyes fluttered.

"Thank you, Patrick," she whispered. "You are so kind and lovely."

Patrick smiled. "Anything for you, love. Let me get you some more water," he said, took the empty glass placed on her nightstand and went to the bathroom to refill it. "Make sure you drink enough water. Have Caroline bring you breakfast tomorrow," he said.

Stella smiled, her eyes half closed. "I will, Patrick. I am going to do as my doctor says," she said in a slurring voice.

Patrick chuckled and sat down on the bed next to her. He took Stella's right hand into his left, feeling how hot and dry hers was, and carefully stroked it with his other hand. "I am going to stay with you until you have fallen asleep," he whispered. Stella closed her eyes and nodded barely visible. Patrick listened how her breath became deeper and more regular. Soon, she was sound asleep and he watched her affectionately one last time.

He brushed her forehead with his lips before getting up and walking downstairs. Just when he was about to put on his coat, he heard the front door. A girl the age of Timothy entered.

"Oh, what… Dr Turner?" the girl asked, her voice changing from frightened to calm in the course of one sentence.

Patrick chuckled: "Yes, this is me. I am sorry if I frightened you for a second."

Caroline smiled and Patrick was stunned how much she looked like her mother now. "Did you check after my mum? She was ill this morning and did not go to work. But she said she didn't need a doctor."

"Yes, I did. I thought I owed it to her, since she is such an invaluable support to me all the time. I made sure she went to bed; I think she should be asleep now."

"Is it something bad?" Caroline asked, now worried. Patrick recognized the look in her face. Here was a girl who had already lost one parent, terrified she might lose the other, too.

"No, nothing too serious," he calmed her. "It is the flu but your mother is strong. She does have a high fever, though, and she is likely going to feel weak for the next week. If possible, make sure she is going to rest as much as she can. Tell her not to do anything around the house. I think you are old enough to manage for a while."

Caroline nodded.

Patrick smiled at her. "How was orchestra practice? Timothy never tells me much these days."

Caroline laughed. "Timothy not talking much? Really? I think we are not talking about the same Timothy then. Well, it was good, we have really improved, I think and we were invited to play at the Easter concert at All Saints church."

"Oh really? Well, I'll try and see whether Timothy remembers to tell us," Patrick chuckled while he grabbed his bag from the floor of the hallway and moved towards the door.

"Your mum prepared your dinner. Please see to her having something to drink by her side all times and also see to her breakfast tomorrow. She is not supposed to get up as long as she has a fever."

Caroline nodded. "Understood. I will make sure she won't leave her bed, Doctor."

Patrick nodded Caroline goodbye and went to his car, and drove home.

It was ten days later before Stella came to work again. Just as every day before her illness, she sat at her desk, arranging Patrick's schedule for the day when he entered his surgery that Monday. He had been checking on her for the next two days following his first visit, only after her fever had come down he had stopped. He had no longer been able to justify his visits for medical reasons.

"Stella," he exclaimed. "I didn't expect you to be here so soon. You still need to rest."

Stella smiled. "Good morning, Patrick. I am fine. Really. I have been staying home for ten days and I was bored at home all weekend. Caroline cleaned the house and then was out most of the time and I just could no longer sit down on my settee all my myself. So I am staying here no matter what you say."

She got up while she was talking to Patrick and took his coat from him while he watched her move.

"You still look a bit pale. And you lost a bit of weight, too. You need to eat properly," Patrick said, approaching her and holding her by her upper arms while looking into her face with affection. "I have missed you," he murmured. "I am glad you are back."

Stella smiled and stroked his left cheek with her right hand. "I have missed you to. Thank you for taking good care of me. You know, Caroline told me that when she told Timothy about you having prepared dinner during your home visit, he said "yes, this is what my dad would do."

Patrick chuckled. "He knows me well, my boy."

"Now," Stella said, "you have work to do, Dr Turner. I have already finished this morning's appointments. If you want to have a cup of tea before we are going to open in just a few minutes, you go on through into your office and I am going to bring it to you. "

Patrick smiled at her and brushed her cheek with his lips. "Thank you," he whispered into her ear before hurrying off towards his office.

Stella brought him his tea but made sure she only put down the cup and immediately left again. They would leave catching up for later.

After another busy morning, Patrick's lunch break began at 1:30, only half an hour before he had to leave for afternoon rounds. Just when he had seen off his last patient, Patrick approached Stella's desk and said: "Can I see you in my office for a short moment, Mrs Gillespie?"

"Of course, Doctor," Stella replied and almost jumped up. Half way towards Patrick's office, she turned around again and locked the door to the surgery. Lunch break was lunch break.

Then she walked into his office where Patrick, was already waiting for her, arms wide open. He tightly embraced her and the two remained silent for a long moment. Patrick buried his nose in Stella's hair and eventually whispered: "I am glad you are back. I have missed you so much, Stella."

Stella smiled and loosened the embrace. "Stop flattering me all the time, Dr Turner."

Patrick looked at her, his head cocked. "Why? You deserve being flattered."

Stella laughed out loud. "So do you, Patrick. You coming to look after me was so lovely. I felt so poorly that night and it was such a relief to know you were looking out for me. Caroline was lovely, too, but to have you there that evening did help me a lot."

Both stood still and looked into each other's eyes for a while until Stella slowly bent forward and began kissing Patrick. He responded immediately and they carried on for a while until Stella ended the kiss and whispered: "I am sorry. I know we said we would not do this, but I needed to. I needed to thank you this way."

Patrick smiled, then bent forward and placed a quick kiss on Stella's lips. "Yes, we said we would not do this," he murmured and kissed her again.

Stella kissed him back but eventually both stopped and parted. "Patrick!" Stella exclaimed. "It is almost two o'clock. You need to eat before you head out."

Patrick chuckled and affectionately stroked Stella's cheek. "You are so lovely when you are concerned about me," he said. "Don't worry about my lunch, I can eat it in the car." When Stella wanted to retort, he stilled her by raising one hand. "Stella, it won't hurt if I eat my sandwiches on my way just for one day. I have had worse, much worse."

Stella raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. "Well, if you say so," she grumbled, but smiled. "So how is everyone? How are the children?"

"They are doing fine. Timothy did very well in his maths exam, Angela has again outgrown all her clothes and Teddy has taken an interest in all of Shelagh's cupboards, much to Shelagh's dismay. He won't stop taking everything out."

Stella chuckled. "I remember this time with my three. It is so exciting but you always need to look out for them. It can be very tiring."

"Oh yes," Patrick replied. "And it is so different with all of them. Angela was much calmer but Teddy is really all around the place. He keeps running off all the time when he is outside."

Stella laughed. "As curious as his father, he is, right?"

Patrick chuckled. "This is what Shelagh keeps saying. She says she used to be a very shy and quiet child and Teddy's wild streak must come from my side."

"I think he definitely turns after you. In character and in his very handsome appearance," Stella said appreciatively.

"I gladly return the compliment," Patrick replied. "Caroline is a very beautiful girl. She definitely takes after her mother."

Stella smiled proudly. "Yes, I am proud. I am proud of all three of them, but I am especially proud of Caroline. She was hit hardest by Martin's death. She had to spend so much time with her brothers and our neighbour when I had to go back to work. And she turned out so very smart and brave."

"She looks just like you. I can now picture you as a girl her age. A very pleasing thought."

Stella smiled. "I assume you must have looked a lot like Timothy?"

Patrick nodded. "Yes, I did. Tim's and my childhood pictures do show quite a lot of similarities. He has a bit of Marianne in his face, but he takes mostly after me. And we are alike in so many other traits." Patrick's voice trailed off while he took a look at his watch. "Well, one thing he has an advantage on me is punctuality. I better hurry."

Stella nodded. "Oh yes, out, Doctor. Let me give you the list for your calls," she said and hurried to retrieve the list from her desk.