White Death by Ken McClure Read Free Book Online

a skin clinic when it’s clearly just a harmless and almost certainly temporary loss of pigment. Frankly it would be a waste of time and resources.’
    ‘Then I’d like a second opinion,’ said Virginia.
    Gault looked as if he might be thinking about arguing but then he changed his mind and conceded. ‘Very well,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll see if one of my colleagues will take a look at her but I’m sure they’ll tell you the exact same thing. It’s impossible to predict how long these things will take to go away. The more you make of them the more likely they are to persist.’
    ‘Tell that to her class-mates,’ countered Virginia.
    Gault excused himself, leaving Virginia and Trish alone in his surgery. Although he was probably gone for less than two minutes, Virginia found the seconds passing like hours as she and Trish sat in silence. Both were unhappy, Virginia because she hated coming into any kind of conflict with authority and Trish because it seemed that nothing could be done to help her.
    Gault returned and said, ‘Our Dr Haldane will see you after his next patient … if you’d care to wait in the waiting room …’
    Virginia found Gault’s manner was now even more curt and decidedly distant but this was not unexpected. He was clearly taking her request as a personal slur. Gault held the door while she ushered Trish out first. She neither made eye contact with him nor said anything.
    Scott Haldane beamed broadly when Virginia and Trish entered and Trish took to him immediately. He was young, broad-shouldered and wearing a smile that suggested openness. ‘Hi, how are you doing?’ he asked Trish.
    ‘All right,’ she mumbled.
    ‘All right apart from the patch on your arm, eh? Let’s have a look at it, shall we?’
    Trish managed a nod and the suggestion of a smile. She took off her blazer and cardigan before slipping off one sleeve of her blouse and holding out her arm for inspection.
    ‘How long have you had this, Trish?’ asked Haldane, closely examining the area of white skin running up Trish’s arm.
    ‘Just over three months,’ said Virginia.
    ‘Thirteen weeks,’ said Trish.
    Haldane smiled. ‘You’re the one counting the days,’ he said to Trish as if it was a secret between them. ‘Any pain or tenderness?’
    Trish shook her head.
    ‘Good. How about itching, scaliness?’
    Another shake of the head.
    ‘Good show. So it’s just that it’s a bit of a nuisance that’s a bit slow to go away eh?’
    ‘A bit?’ exclaimed Trish with such vehemence that both Haldane and Virginia smiled.
    ‘Have you been abroad in the last year, Trish?’
    ‘I’ve never been abroad,’ said Trish.
    ‘That’s not strictly true,’ said Virginia. ‘Although you were too young to remember, your dad and I took you with us to Greece when you were two.’
    ‘Before you broke up,’ said Trish.
    ‘And when was that?’ asked Haldane cautiously.
    ‘The break-up or the holiday?’
    ‘The break-up.’
    ‘Three years ago.’
    ‘And three months,’ added Trish.
    Haldane looked thoughtful.
    ‘She still sees her dad regularly,’ said Virginia, figuring out which road the doctor was about to travel down. ‘We all get on.’
    Haldane nodded.
    ‘Why did you ask if Trish had been abroad?’
    ‘Just a routine question.’
    Virginia seemed unconvinced and didn’t hide the fact. The question lingered in her eyes. Haldane, however, diverted his gaze and got up from his seat. He brought out a sterile stylet from a small chest of shallow drawers sitting by the wash-hand basin and removed its wrapping. ‘Trish, I’m going to give your skin a little prick here and there. I want you to tell me what you feel.’
    ‘Dr Gault didn’t do this,’ said Virginia, a comment that Haldane ignored as he moved the sharp point around the area of discolouration on Trish’s arm.
    ‘Not sore,’ said Trish. ‘Not sore … not sore … not sore.’
    ‘Good. Let’s try your other arm.’
    Trish removed her blouse