Mr. Prime Minister

Chapter 1

"And a pack of Strepsils, dear, please."

"Here you go, Mrs Martin." I smiled at the old woman from behind my counter – another of our usual morning costumer "Don't forget to take it every six hours, no more than three days, alright?"

"Thank you, angel." She winked a blue eye as she paid for her meds "This damn cough has been killing me. And my next door neighbour."

"I'm sure she won't mind" I grinned, winking myself.

"And when are you two getting married, dear?" She asked my best friend and co-worker Julia.

"Oh, Mrs Martin, we're wonderful the way we are." My Scottish friend smiled, as she finished a purchase from Mrs Kyle, another regular and Mrs Martin's friend "Why getting married when all we'll get is fighting?"

"Here, here!" Her boyfriend Gavin grinned as he restocked the Pharmacy's shelves behind the counter.

"Now, now! Where is that even acceptable, dears?!" Mrs Martin tossed, her heavily curly white hair trembled around her chubby head as she shook it "Two people living together should be married, should they not, Mrs Kyle?"

"I tell you this, Mrs Martin, I was married to my Walter for fifty years, and I loved him to death. However,  if I could go back and do it all again, I would've enjoyed the single life a lot better" Mrs Kyle grinned; her skinny wrinkled face making me laugh.

"If I wasn't an engaged man, I would take you out clubbing, Mrs Kyle" Gavin tossed his best shiny smile.

"I guess I'll need to put a finger on this one, after all" Julia grinned herself, kissing her boyfriend's dark cheek as he came by her cashier.

"This one's a little cat in heat!" Mrs Martin played, and Mrs Kyle slapped her friend's shoulder playfully.

"Could you wrap this little tea party up? Some of us have life-threatening situations to deal with!"

"Oh, don't twist your knickers, Mr Hobbs!" Mrs Kyle tossed behind her.

"Get well soon." I smiled at the two old women and sighed towards our very own hypochondriac Mr Hobbs "Welcome again, Mr Hobbs. What is it you need today?"

"Miss Summers." He greeted me with a nod of his thin and pale face; his brown eyes behind round lenses were tiny and bloodshot "I need to have my blood pressure measured. I'm not feeling well as of early this morning."

"Alright." I sighed and pressed my lips tight not to laugh as Gavin made a nauseous face from his own cashier "Follow me to the back, please."

In our little white office behind the counter and the many shelves of medicine, I made Mr Hobbs take a seat in the stool next to a small table.

"Take off your shirt, please" I smiled, grabbing the sphygmomanometer – a mouthful of a name, wasn't it? "Alright, you know the steps, right? Then be quiet and still."

I put the white device around his arm, turned it on, and waited. Once it beeped, I checked the monitor and sighed.

"A hundred over seventy. It's perfect, Mr Hobbs" I smiled, getting up with the device on my hands, cleaning it and storing it.

"It can't be!" He tossed, putting his white shirt on again, his reading glasses and his red bow tie "I do not feel well, Miss Summers!"

"Your blood pressure is fine, so is your colouring." I assured him with a roll of my eyes, as I turned my back on him "Your breathing is fine, same as your heartbeat."

"What about what I feel?" He grunted.

Alright, I'll bite.

"How do you feel, Mr Hobbs?"