She closed the door carefully behind her. A faint whiff of alcohol rub permeated the air and the sound of running water sloshed above the vocal hum of Beethoven’s Fifth.

Kirsty blinked her eyes, trying to focus in the dimly lit room, the blinds drawn to eradicate the bright afternoon sun.

Under the window sat a mahogany desk. It held a computer, a silver-framed photo of a tartan clad dowager and fluorescent orange mouse pad with matching orange desk calendar advertising the benefits of Prozac. To her right, full-length polyester curtains hung from the ceiling, semi-drawn around a narrow examination bed.

 She looked to the direction of the running water. A man in white coat turned from the wash-hand basin to face her.

“Ah Missh Stewart, I’m Doctor McDonald pleashed to make your acquaintance.”

Kirsty stood open mouthed. In front of her, drying his hands on a paper towel, James Bond greeted her with a smile, a youthful and somewhat more handsome Sean Connery look-a-like, right down the lisp her mother seemed to think as sexy.

 A smile curled her lips; she couldn’t wait to tell her mother.  Mum, wait till I tell you who I met yesterday. None other than Sean Connery himself and he’s given up his day job. He’s working as a Gynaecologist in the Royal. Missh Moneypenny, next patient please. I’ll write out a prescription, take it three times a day, shaken not shtirred. And her friends, she could imagine them all around her, sipping wine, laughing at her accounts of -

 A loud cough interrupted her reverie. Startled, she felt a hot flush crept up her neck into her face.

“Emm, hello Doctor.  Err, nice to meet you too.”  

Dr McDonald’s left eyebrow ached questioningly; he lifted a tan folder from the desk.

“I’ve had a quick look at your notesh.” He opened the file as if to illustrate the fact.

 “I think I’ll examine you firsht if you don’t mind. If you’d like to go behind the screens, remove your eh…shmalls and jump up onto the trolley, I’ll be with you in a minute.” He motioned towards the gap in the curtains.

She nodded, a nervous little giggle escaping her lips, as she darted behind the drapes drawing them closed.  She took a few deep breathes and fanned her burning face with her hand.

A chair sat next to the examination trolley. Slipping her feet from her sandals, Kirsty removed her jeans and pants and placed them neatly on the leatherette seat.  In the middle of the padded trolley, someone had placed a fresh sheet and a pillow. She positioned the pillow at one end.  Inching her buttocks onto the trolley surface, she swung her legs up and draped the folded sheet over her torso. Finally, she reclined her head against the pillow and waited. 

“Are you ready, Missh Stewart?”

“Uh-huh, I mean, yes that’s me ready.” Her voice had developed the quality of a pubescent choirboy.

She heard the distinct snap of latex as Dr McDonald shouldered his way through the curtains, gloved hands held aloft. He drew a sharp breathe through his teeth and shook his head.

 “No, no, that won’t do. You’ll have to turn round the other way. I can’t poshibly examine you like that.” He disappeared again, into a sea of billowing drapes.

Kirsty glanced down the length of her body. The bed was precariously narrow. She wondered how best to manoeuvre herself round without falling off. In the end, she decided to shuffle around till she lay flat on her stomach. This didn’t seem right. She was pretty sure Mr Bond couldn’t examine her in this position. Resting her upper body on her elbows, she raised her buttocks and slowly shuffled her knees up towards her stomach until she was on all fours. Perspiration moistened her skin, fastening a stray lock of hair against her cheek. The sheet, which up to now had stayed put, slowly lost purchase and slid from her back, exposing her bare backside. She watched helplessly as it descended to the floor, landing beside a pair of brown nubuck brogues.

“You seem to have got yourself into a bit of a pickle, Missh Stewart.”

Dr McDonald’s impassive face stared back at her but Kirsty could have sworn that she saw the glimmer of a smile pass his lips. After replacing her sheet, he lifted the pillow and placed it at her feet.

“Now, if you’d like to shwing round onto your back with your head over here,” He pointed to the pillow.  “I’ll get on with the examination.” The corners of his mouth twitched undoubtedly this time. “You see, I’m left handed.”