**I wrote this in 2013. It was my first and only attempt at fiction. I’d love some feedback through the comments. Thanks.**
Around twelve years ago, when I was a recently
qualified doctor, I worked for some months as a locum
general practitioner while I looked for a permanent
practice close to home. The locum work took me up to a
hundred miles from where I lived with my parents and I
travelled daily in my rusty and unreliable Ford.
Towards the end of that time, I spent six or seven
weeks in a country practice covering for one of two
doctors who had taken an extended honeymoon with his
new wife in Australia.
The other partner at the practice was Dr Willows, a
woman in her late fifties, who planned to retire
whenever Dr Newby returned and seemed to be very busy
organising various things outside work, including a
retirement cruise, house-sitters for when she was away
and a number of builder and plasterers for work she
was having carried out at her holiday home thirty
miles away on the coast.