LITMIR.BIZ

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it.’

      ‘How have you ruined it?’ Nell’s eyes took in the vastness of the woman’s figure, and her sharp intelligence was working overtime. Ethel must have had a serious eating disorder over many years to account for so much weight. ‘It’s my guess that eating a few tubs of ice cream wasn’t a rare occurrence before you started dieting,’ she said softly. ‘You did it often—right?’

      ‘Yes. But—’

      ‘But now you’ve had a day off your diet.’

      ‘I wasn’t just off my diet.’ The woman wailed. ‘I binged.’

      ‘Well, I don’t blame you,’ Nell said stoutly. ‘If I’d lost four stone in six months then I’d binge, too.’

      ‘Dr McKenzie.’ Blake was glaring at her. This was his patient. She had no business butting in.

      ‘Yes, Dr Sutherland?’ She gave him her sweetest smile. ‘Am I saying what you were about to say? I’m sure I am. I understand all about diets. I’ve been on ’em ever since I was a kid.’

      ‘You?’ the woman whispered, and Nell chuckled.

      ‘Yeah, well, I’m not on one now. As you see, I’m a bit pregnant and it’d be bad for baby. But as soon as I stop breastfeeding I’ll be back to dieting. I just have to look at a tub of ice cream and I gain a midriff.’

      ‘But nothing like me.’

      ‘But not like you,’ Nell agreed. ‘I’d imagine you and Dr Sutherland have talked about the underlying problems—why you got so big in the first place.’

      ‘Yes, but—’

      ‘But nothing.’ Nell crossed to Blake’s side. She stooped and elbowed him aside. ‘Dr Sutherland, this is women’s business.’

      He glowered. ‘How can it be women’s business?’

      ‘Have you ever dieted?’ She looked up and down at his long, lean frame. ‘Marathon man.’

      He was taken aback. ‘No.’

      ‘There you go, then.’ Another sweet smile. Then she turned back to Ethel. ‘You know, losing the amount of weight you need to lose to be healthy is going to take a couple of years.’

      ‘I know that. That’s why it’s so terrible…’

      ‘That you broke? No. That’s why it’s understandable. And there’s no way you’ll have gained four stone in a one-day binge. You won’t have come close.’ Nell smiled. ‘You know, I’m watching my weight while I’m pregnant, but I can’t do it all the time. I’d go stark staring mad. So I give myself days off.’

      ‘Days off?’

      ‘Like Christmas.’ Nell’s voice was totally serious now. She had eye contact with Ethel and she wasn’t letting go. Woman to woman. ‘Christmas is in two weeks. I can last until then, but I intend to eat way too much on Christmas Day. Far too much. Then on Boxing Day I’ll think how much I enjoyed it and get on with being sensible.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘But there’s lots more time to go before you hit an ideal weight,’ Nell agreed. ‘More so for you than for me, but eating sensibly is a lifetime thing for all of us. So I won’t make it impossible for myself again. I’ll promise myself a day off from being sensible on New Year’s Day. Then January fourteenth is my cocker spaniel’s birthday so that’s a day off, too. Because how can he celebrate alone? After that… Well, no one can diet on January twenty-sixth. That’s Australia Day, and it wouldn’t be patriotic! And in February… I’ll think of something to celebrate. There’s bound to be a reason if I put my mind to it.’

      The woman caught her breath. Her tears had been arrested. Nell had her fascinated, and Ethel gazed at her purple midriff in awe. ‘You might…you might have your baby. In February, I mean.’

      ‘So I might,’ Nell said with aplomb, appearing exceedingly pleased. ‘There you go, then. There’s no need to circle the calendar for that one. It’s a ready-made celebration.’

      ‘It sounds crazy.’

      Nell shook her head. ‘No. It sounds logical. You need to see some light at the end of the tunnel. You can’t keep losing weight for years without breaks, and those breaks need to be planned well ahead or you’ll crack again.’

      ‘But Dr Sutherland says—’

      ‘Does Dr Sutherland disagree?’ She swung around to face him, and the look she gave him was determined. ‘Surely not? Do you, Dr Sutherland?’

      He managed to rise to the occasion. Somehow. ‘Days off seem a very good idea to me,’ he said, and she grinned.

      ‘See? We have consensus.’ She turned back to Ethel. ‘OK, what are you planning for Christmas dinner?’

      ‘I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe a fillet of fish.’

      ‘A lone fish fillet for Christmas dinner?’ Nell sounded appalled. ‘Oh, you poor dear, no wonder you binged. You’re absolutely forgiven and then some. Isn’t she, Dr Sutherland?’

      Blake could only gaze at her in astonishment. And agree. There was nowhere else to go. ‘Um…yes.’

      ‘You need turkey and roast potatoes and cranberry sauce and pudding,’ Nell said solidly. ‘With brandy cream. Not brandy butter. Trust me. I’m an expert on this one. You can’t get enough brandy into brandy butter. I know this fantastic recipe for brandy cream, where’s it’s so alcoholic no one ends up knowing who’s pulled which end of the cracker. I’ll write it out for you if you like.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘No buts. I’m sick of buts. You’re ordered to eat as much as you like on Christmas Day.’ Nell’s smile softened. ‘And I’ll bet that, having given yourself permission to eat as much as you like, and with no guilt attached, you won’t eat yourself sick. You’ll just enjoy your food very much indeed. Then, at the end of the day you give the remains of your pudding to an elderly aunt or the town drunk—or even a very appreciative dog. My cocker spaniel will volunteer if no one else comes forward. You drink the rest of your brandy cream as a nightcap, you wish yourself a merry goodnight—and then you go back to dieting the next day. How easy’s that? It’ll work. No sweat.’

      Ethel looked wildly at Blake. ‘Will it?’

      But Blake was smiling. ‘I don’t see why not,’ he told her. He took a deep breath. It took a big man to admit he was wrong but maybe… ‘Maybe the diet sheet we put you on was a bit harsh long term,’ he told her. ‘Maybe Dr McKenzie is right.’

      ‘Record this for posterity,’ Nell said, mock-stunned, and Ethel even managed a chuckle.

      She looked at the pair of them, and she smiled. ‘You…you will give me that recipe for brandy cream?’

      ‘Hand over a prescription form,’ Nell ordered Blake. ‘The lady needs urgent medication. I’ll write it up for her now. And, Ethel…’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘If you love cooking and you want to cook more than you and your family can eat, then think about offering treats to the nursing home or to the hospital. Or even me!’ She chuckled. ‘Just don’t give this prescription to the pharmacist. He’ll think Dr Sutherland’s barmy.’

      ‘I think you’re both barmy,’ Ethel said softly, and for the first time her face relaxed. ‘You’ve made me feel so much better.’

      ‘Punishing yourself is the pits,’ Nell said strongly. ‘Heck, Ethel, the outside world criticises enough—there’s no good to be gained by criticising yourself. And if you’ve lost four stone you have so much to be proud of.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Ethel sighed and rose ponderously to her feet. She looked Nell up and down, really seeing

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