Thinking....

Ralph picked up the clipboard cautiously from the table, not liking Stewart's broad grin.

Deeming the situation less and less threatening by the second, he pulled the clipboard towards him, flipping the pages through without really looking at them.

“So,” he said slowly. “What's it like being the receptionist of your own practice?'

“It's quite tedious, but not without its rewards.”

His smile was purposely aggravating.

“I have had more conversations out here than in there, and it's quite nice to get some feedback on my work and make some new friends.”

“New friends?”

Stewart nodded.

“Who are they?”

Stewart waved a hand at the sitting area, which was almost full with patients waiting about and chatting. “Everyone. I mean look.”

He leaned forwards slightly and called out, shocking some people into jumping in their seats, “Hey everybody!”

There was a warm if incoherent reply.

Stewart turned to Ralph with a sly look about his eyes and inquired, “Made any new friends, dear brother?”

“I already have plenty,” he spluttered and became intently focused on the pages on the clipboard hurriedly.

“Mr Tresford!” Ralph looked about expectantly. No one responded. “Did he leave?”

“Wouldn't blame him. Gosh, you're so slow.”

“I'm not slow,” said Ralph. “I'm thorough. It's a very good quality for a doctor.”

“So's efficiency. Anyway, Clive is over there.” Stewart pointed at a man clutching his right eye with bandages wound around the top half of his head. He wore a plain long-sleeved office shirt with nondescript pants and was speaking animatedly to a man beside him. “Something wrong with his eye?”

“Clearly,” said Stewart with a raised eyebrow. “It's broken.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf?”

“Stop pissing me off!” Snapped Ralph, hand clenching around the clipboard. “An eye can't be broken. It can not work anymore, it can pop, it can be damaged but it is not broken.”

Stewart shrugged airily. “Well his is.”

“You're really annoying me.”

Stewart laughed. “I know!”

There was a silence between them. Ralph's glare was stormy while his brother pretended not to notice him.

Someone asked, “Hey, am I next?”

Ralph turned away from his brother and immediately took on a normal, clipped tone. “Sorry Ma'am, I'll be with you in a moment. Again, would a Mr Tresford follow me?”

The man next to Mr Tresford seemed to notice what Ralph and said some sort of farewell as Mr Tresford rose and waved cheerfully at him.

“Just so you know,” said Stewart out of the corner of his mouth. “That there in his right eye slot is a mechanical eye replacement. And it is broken.”

Ralph sighed heavily. “How am I supposed to fix that, do I look like some kind of techie?”

“Actually, he came to see you about his hip.”

"I hate you."