Free Kate's Wedding by Chrissie Manby Page B

for a while. She gazed out of the window while other people gave their opinions. She managed to make herself cry by imagining her niece’s next birthday party. The prognosis for DCIS sufferers was generally good, but what if Elaine fell into the small bracket of people who were unlucky, for whom a lumpectomy didn’t work? What if Elaine wasn’t there to see her granddaughter turn seven? What if she couldn’t make Kate’s wedding? It was unthinkable. Elaine was the lynchpin of every Williamson family gathering.
    ‘You OK?’ one of her colleagues asked as they left the meeting room.
    ‘I’m fine,’ said Kate. ‘Just a bit distracted.’
    ‘Already given up on us now you know you’re leaving, eh?’ The colleague raised an eyebrow.
    Kate was mortified. ‘No. It’s not that. It’s just that—’
    ‘Keep your eye on the ball, Williamson,’ was her colleague’s parting shot.
    Kate fumed. That particular colleague had already suggested ‘in jest’ that Kate was wasting time moving firms since now she was getting married, it wouldn’t be long before she had children and quit altogether. It was a stunning comment, especially coming as it did from an employment lawyer.
    Back in her office, Kate took a call from her mother.
    ‘Your father said you found out a few things about my condition,’ she said.
    Kate’s heart fell. She could tell by the tone of her mother’s voice that Elaine was hoping for some good news. She also had a horrible feeling that her mother would take more notice of Kate, with her 2:1 in jurisprudence, and her half-day’s Googling than she would of her learned physicians.
    ‘I can’t say I’ve found anything out exactly, Mum. I just read a few papers online. One was written by your consultant, Mr Calil. He seems to be pretty well respected in the field.’
    ‘Oh, I’m glad you think that. I know it sounds silly, but it’s just . . . it’s just he looks so young! I can’t believe he’s really done all that training.’
    ‘He’s not that young, Mum. He’s a year older than I am. He’s got more letters after his name than most of the professors at my college ever had.’
    ‘OK. Well, if you think he’s qualified . . .’
    ‘He’s definitely qualified. You don’t get to be a consultant without taking exams year after year. You have to train your entire career.’ Kate made that last bit up, but it sounded right. Possibly it was right.
    ‘There was an article in the Daily Mail about a man who impersonated a doctor. He ended up running a whole hospital in Utah.’
    ‘That’s the States, Mum. I’m sure they have different criteria there. That would never happen on the NHS.’
    Or would it? While her mother chatted, Kate typed ‘fake surgeon’ into the Google search box. It produced a horribly large number of hits.
    ‘I’ve got to go, Mum. I’ve a meeting in ten minutes.’
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. We know you’re busy.’
    That made it worse. Kate wasn’t really too busy. She didn’t really have another meeting that day. She just didn’t think she could continue to hold it together, and the last thing her mother needed right then was to hear Kate cry.
    That evening, she couldn’t wait to get back to Ian’s flat, which was where they had been spending most nights since the engagement. (They were properly living together for the first time. Kate would be moving the rest of her things into Ian’s flat when her gardening leave began, leaving her own place empty and ready to be put on the market.) Unfortunately, that night, the Tube conspired against her. Random delays held her underground for far longer than most people could stand. Kate, full of worry for her parents, thought that she might have to scream. When she got to the flat, Ian was already home, sitting at his PC, comparing the price of one package of accountancy software to another ostensibly identical package. Ian could occupy himself for hours with such a seemingly pointless endeavour.