Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Glancing around the room, it’s clear the arrangement would be better with one less chair and my desk turned to face the window. I’ll suggest it to Dr. Cove when he arrives.
There’s a small table piled with magazines in the corner, with an overgrown palm plant next to it, which looks like it’s providing shade to Country Living and—I start to flick through the magazines—Vogue Australia, November 2005. I think we can do better than that.
I take a seat at my desk chair and spin 360 degrees. As Shane’s manager, I always worked out of our kitchen. I’ve never had a proper office chair. The desk drawers are empty apart from a one-pence piece and a paperclip. There’s no computer, nothing. Not a notepad, pen, or sticky note. I have my usual notepad and pen in my bag, thank goodness. There’s only one thing better than a freshly baked apple pie and that’s good stationery.
I stand and take two steps to the door in the stud wall. This must be the room where Dr. Cove sees his patients. It’s locked.
How am I going to “settle in”? There’s really nothing to do. I wander over to the windows, which could stand a good clean. Maybe I can find some cleaning materials for communal use.
I head out of the office to explore. All the other doors on this floor are closed and I can’t hear anything, even when I press my ear to the one directly opposite the stairs. Someone let me in. Surely they’re still in the building.
I’m halfway up the second flight of stairs when someone shouts, “Hello?”
“Hi,” I reply and then a woman with black hair and a very severe fringe peers over the banister. “Ellie Frost?”
I smile. Someone is expecting me. “Yes. I’m Dr. Cove’s new assistant.”
“Yes, Dr. Cove.” She makes a sound like she’s savoring a mouthful of chocolate. “It’s his first day, but I’ve looked him up.”
Why didn’t I think of that? Probably because I was Googling, what do doctor’s assistants do? The job description hadn’t been very specific.
“Come up. The kitchen’s up here.”
She disappears and I head upstairs to find her.
As I reach the top of the stairs, a waving hand appears through the doorway farther up the landing. “In here.”
I head towards the hand and find her in a tiny kitchen, just big enough for two. She’s wearing bright red lipstick I could never pull off, which contrasts beautifully with her black hair and snow-white skin.
“I’m Jen. You’re Ellie. I’ll show you around—not that there’s much to find. First stop, this is where it all happens. I know it’s like a cupboard, but this place is pretty much soundproof if you close the door. Any time you need to blow off steam or vent, come in here. Don’t, under any circumstances, use the loos. There are always patients in there. I don’t know if they lie in wait, but I’ve been caught out so many times complaining about Dr. Newman.” She sighs like she should be able to complain about her boss anywhere she likes. I instantly warm to her. “Here is the place to come. Plus, there’s usually one of us girls to vent to. We basically tag team our meltdowns.”
She’s making it sound like we’re working for Elon Musk or something. How bad could these doctors be?
“I’m hoping Dr. Cove will be nice to work for. I’ve not met him—”
She puts her palm up to face me, stopping me in my tracks. “He’s a doctor. Therefore he’ll be difficult to work for. It’s a given. At least he’s only in two days a week. They all think they’re God, and since you haven’t got a medical degree, he’ll assume you haven’t got two brain cells to rub together. They’re all the same in my experience.”
“Have you worked here long?”
She shrugs. “Two years for Dr. Newman. Before that, I was with Dr. Scalding on Harley Street.”
“And this is Dr. Cove’s first private practice?” I ask.
“Yes, he’s a newbie. Which means he’s young.” She winks at me like I’m in on her secret, but newsflash—I’m not. “Most of them start out at his age. They make consultant and then they start doing a couple of days in private practice.”
“For the money?” I ask.
“Yeah, mainly, but some of them like the depth of patient contact they compared to being in a hospital where they’re seeing loads more people, each for less time. And there’s less admin involved, because we get paid to handle it.”
“I’m only here as a temp,” I offer. “Hoping to stay a while.” Or at least as long as it takes to get my money together for Le Cordon Bleu.
She shrugs. “These doctors are so crap at their admin, they’ll either forget to pay you or forget to fire you.”
My heart settles in my stomach. Forget to pay me? “Can I skip the first option and take the second?”