Chapter 6 #2
‘I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice, Doctor,’ Angelia told Dr Violet Latimer, someone she had known for the eight years she had been living mostly in London.
She glanced nervously around the brightly lit room, her heart thumping at her chest and her palms a little clammy.
Posters on the walls showed diagrams of the body and listed various symptoms and the ailments they could indicate.
‘I’m sorry about Meghan forcing the issue though. I’m sure it’s nothing.’
‘Oh, no, don’t worry, Angelia, Miss Parry was right to encourage you to be seen, she clearly cares a great deal for you.
And I can’t have you out of action for recording your next album.
I’m so looking forward to hearing it. So, what brings you here today?
’ the grey-haired, well-spoken woman asked with a tilt of her head and a genuine smile.
Angelia guessed she was in her late fifties and was full of admiration that she hadn’t succumbed to the Botox craze.
Angelia went on to describe the bizarre list of symptoms and watched for clues as the doctor sat, elbows resting on her desk, fingers steepled and a crease of concentration between her brows.
The doctor then asked a series of questions including some around when the symptoms were at their worst, and if repetition of certain activities exacerbated things, and when Angelia answered she made copious notes on the file before her.
When she was done talking, Dr Latimer examined her, testing her grip and ability to raise her arms and legs against resistance.
Once she had finished, she sent Angelia along to the nurse who drew some vials of blood.
Angelia hated blood tests and was glad when she was back in the doctor’s room.
Dr Latimer sat behind her desk, her expression a mask of stoic professionalism.
‘Okay, Angelia, I’m going to refer you to a friend of mine.
Dr Novak is a neurologist on Harley Street and he specialises in autoimmune conditions.
The blood results may take a while, but I have a feeling I know what could be going on so I’d like to get his opinion. ’
Angelia felt the colour drain from her face and she swallowed through the tightness closing her throat.
‘A neurologist? Autoimmune conditions?’ She shook her head and gave a nervous laugh.
‘That… that sounds serious. I presumed I needed iron tablets… or… or just rest. W-what exactly do you think is wrong?’ She could hear buzzing in her ears now and the bright white room seemed brighter still.
Dr Latimer smiled in what Angelia presumed was supposed to be a reassuring manner.
‘Try not to worry. I’d just like to get him to run you through some specific tests so we can ascertain what’s going on here.
There are a couple of things we could be looking at but I’d rather get his expertise on things before I go telling you something that may not be accurate.
Most people take a partial diagnosis and suddenly become qualified doctors after Internet searches.
Next thing you know they’re giving away all their worldly possessions, or buying motorcycles, or taking up paragliding.
I would rather you just wait, and we’ll see when Harry can fit you in.
I know we shouldn’t make exceptions for people, but I’ve known you a long time and I’m very much aware of your schedule and the effect this is having on your ability to work.
I also know you’ll want answers pretty fast, and we’ll aim to make that happen, but you will have to bear with me. Can you do that?’
Angelia stared blankly for a few moments, every possible horrendous scenario hurtling around her head. Realising she hadn’t answered, she swallowed and nodded. ‘Erm… yes… yes, of course.’
‘You’ve gone very pale, Angelia. Would you like a glass of water?’
Without speaking, Angelia nodded again and Dr Latimer stood and walked over to the water dispenser at the opposite end of the room.
She returned a moment later and handed Angelia a small disposable cup.
With a shaking hand, she took the drink and sipped it while trying to process what had, and hadn’t, been said.
* * *
When they were back in Meghan’s car and on their way to Angelia’s apartment, Meghan huffed.
‘That’s a bit shitty, that is. You can’t go saying things about autoimmune conditions and then not say anything else.
Was she trying to make you panic?’ Meghan’s Welsh accent thickened when she was cross.
‘I think you should ring her back, I do. Make her tell you what she suspects.’
Angelia watched the streets of London pass by the car window; people were going about their business, walking their dogs, shopping, eating takeout sandwiches, chatting on mobile phones; all seeming to do so without a care in the world. ‘I’m not even sure I want to know at this point, Meghan.’
‘Is there anyone you’d like me to call for you? Maybe you shouldn’t be alone right now?’
Angelia made an unladylike snorting noise. ‘Oh, no! No, don’t be daft. I’m fine on my own. There’s no point panicking until I know there’s something to panic about. And don’t say anything to the guys either, please. I don’t need them all fussing over me.’
‘Fine. I’m staying with you then,’ Meghan informed her. ‘And I can ring your mum and dad if you?—’
‘No!’ Angelia’s heart leapt. ‘No, please don’t do that.
There’s nothing to tell them at this point and if you call them, they’ll drop everything and come down to London which is silly.
Honestly, I’m fine on my own and I’m sure you have other things to be doing.
I think it’s just the talk of neurologists that’s scared me a bit. But I’m okay.’
Meghan sighed. ‘You’re so stubborn,’ she said with a good-natured smile.
‘I know. I think I just need a distraction. So, come on, tell me about what’s happening with Ezra.’
A wide smile spread across Meghan’s face.
‘We chatted on video call yesterday. He’s so lovely and we totally lost track of time.
So, then he said he was starving and asked if I fancied meeting him at a pub close to his hotel.
We sat in this cosy little nook and ate pie and chips and talked loads more.
I feel like I’ve known him ages, Angel.’ She sighed dreamily. ‘He said the same about me.’
‘That’s so sweet. I’m just sorry again about the photos of me and him kissing in the paper this morning.’
‘Like I said, you don’t need to apologise.
Who’d have thought it, eh? Me sitting in a pub eating steak and kidney pie and chips with a gorgeous, famous actor?
I can’t believe it. I never expected him to be so down-to-earth.
He sounds like he’d be into oysters and foie gras.
’ She giggled. ‘I can’t believe it’s actually happening. ’
‘Well, it certainly is. The way he looked at you, Meghan,’ Angelia said with a shake of her head. ‘I think he’s besotted.’
Meghan jiggled in her seat. ‘I think I am too.’