A Mother's Secret (Mills & Boon Medical) Page 6

  He shook his head. ‘Bad luck, I guess. One of my old farmers has a really bad chest. I had to admit him to Angel Grace Hospital and start him on IV antibiotics, some nebulisers and some oxygen.’

  ‘Was he okay?’ She sounded genuinely concerned. And it was nice. Past experience of some of the locum doctors had proved that most of them didn’t really care about any of the older patients. They just did what had to be done and moved on. Maybe Gemma would be different?

  There was definitely something in the air between them.

  Gemma was easy to be around. She’d proved herself professionally competent the day before and he’d been more than a little relieved. The help at the practice would be a real weight off his shoulders.

  Isla was chattering away in the background, talking between her ponies and occasionally asking questions of both her mother and Logan. She was a confident child and obviously intelligent.

  Something gave a little twist in his gut. His self-protection mechanism. A fleeting memory of his ex Zoe and her son Ben. Gemma was a work colleague—nothing else.

  So why did he find it so easy to flirt with her? And why did she seem to find it easy to respond?

  He did his best to show her around the island, pointing out some of the almost hidden track roads to the farms that were hidden from view. Gemma took a few notes and asked a few questions. It didn’t take them long to turn up at the farm of the old man he’d admitted to hospital the night before. He pulled up outside the stables and opened the door to let Isla out.

  ‘Is this it?’ she asked excitedly.

  He nodded.

  Gemma gave him a strange look as she climbed out of the car. ‘Why do I get the feeling we would have been coming here whether Isla liked ponies or not?’

  He lifted his hand. ‘Guilty as charged. I promised Fred I’d put out some food for the ponies. It will only take a few minutes.’ He gave her a wink as he settled a hand on Isla’s shoulder to guide her. ‘And, wait and see, I’m about to become your favourite friend.’

  Gemma smiled and followed them, her hands on her hips. ‘If I didn’t know any better I would have thought you’d planned this. But since you didn’t know Isla was coming, I guess you’re just lucky.’

  He led them over to a field where three Shetland ponies were waiting. They were obviously used to contact and nuzzled into his hand straight away as he filled up their water trough and put out some good-quality hay. He lifted up Isla and carried her over next to them. ‘Would you like to touch the ponies?’

  She nodded, her excitement clear.

  He took her over to the oldest one. ‘This is Skylar.’ He put Isla down, sheltered between his legs, and helped her pet the quiet animal. The other two ponies came closer and she got to touch them too. He kept his voice low and whispered in her ear, trying to stop her squealing with excitement.

  Gemma stood with her arms leaning on the fence. She seemed happy to let him take charge of Isla under her watchful gaze. He waited for around ten minutes, ensuring the ponies were happy, before he led Isla from the field.

  ‘Did you see, Mummy? Did you take a picture with your phone?’

  Gemma looked over and gave Logan a grateful nod. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, then knelt down next to her daughter. ‘Of course I took your picture, Isla. We’ll print it out when we get home. She looked up at Logan. ‘What happens tomorrow? Will someone else take care of the ponies?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve spoken to one of the neighbouring farmers. He couldn’t come over today but will help out the rest of the week. It won’t take long.’ He opened the car door again. ‘Now, can I interest either of you ladies in some finely caught Arran fish and chips?’

  Both of them nodded. It was nearing lunchtime and he could almost hear the rumble from their stomachs. ‘Jump in, then. We’ll have a quick visit to the surgery then get some fish and chips.’

  Half an hour later they were sitting on a bench, looking out at the sea at Blackwaterfoot.

  ‘So, tell me, Dr Scott, do you do this every day that you come down to cover the Blackwaterfoot surgery?’

  He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Aha. That’s a state secret. A doctor on a diet of fish and chips. What would the patients say?’

  Gemma grinned and glanced back to the chip shop. ‘Maybe I should just ask the owner?’

  ‘Oh, no. You don’t want to do that.’ He turned his head towards her, leaning forward a little. Gemma was only inches away. For a second it seemed as if they were the only two people in the world. All he could see was her dark brown eyes, and he could have sat there for ever and just watched them. It was like an addiction.

  ‘Mummy, I’m finished. What do I do with the paper?’

  Isla’s voice broke the spell and made him start and pull back. Gemma’s eyes lowered and he could see her take a deep breath before she held out her hand. ‘Give it to me, honey. We’ll find a wastepaper bin to put it in.’

  What was that? He hadn’t imagined it. He stood up quickly. He’d almost forgotten Isla was there. And that embarrassed him. ‘Let’s go, ladies. Time to head back.’

  Gemma took Isla’s hand and they all walked back to the car together, Gemma and Logan averting their eyes from each other. The journey home was swift, Gemma’s eyes fixed on the landscape and the conversation neutral, with Logan pointing out a few more farms. Isla chattered merrily in the back seat, oblivious to the sparks of tension in the air.

  When they reached Gemma’s house she got out swiftly, helping Isla out and bending back into the car. ‘Thanks for that, Logan. That was helpful. Hopefully I’ll be able to be more of a help now I know where I’m going.’

  ‘No problem.’ He kept it brief. He was trying to stop his eyes fixating on the fact her dress was gaping slightly and revealing the tiniest hint of cleavage.

  Their eyes met just for a second before she straightened and closed the door.

  He watched her retreating back as she walked up the path, opened the door to her house and gave a final little wave. His mobile started to ring almost immediately. For a second he was annoyed as he’d been lost for a few seconds, daydreaming about the latest woman to spark his interest. There was more to Gemma Halliday than met the eye.

  She was gorgeous. Curvaceous figure, big brown eyes and dark wavy hair. Once word got out about her he could almost write a list of the local single men who would turn up in the surgery. But the truth was on Arran just about everyone he knew would immediately peg her as his latest conquest.

  And he wasn’t sure he liked that. Because the one thing that was clear to him was that Gemma Halliday sure as hell wouldn’t want to be known as that.

  She intrigued him. He was going to have to put out some feelers.

  It wasn’t like him. He should have done it before she’d arrived. But Sam had been in charge of her recruitment and he trusted him. He had no reason not to.

  He had more than a few old acquaintances working in and around Glasgow. Someone was bound to know about the beautiful young paediatrician who was a single mother. They might even be able to shed some light on why she’d decided to up sticks from the city and move to an island. It was more than a little unusual. And Gemma appeared to be holding her cards close to her chest.

  It was the weirdest thing. But the barriers he’d kept firmly in place these last few years about dating women with children didn’t seem all that rigid any more. He could almost imagine Isla telling him exactly what she thought of that idea. She was every bit as feisty as her mother and just thinking about her brought a smile to his face.

  He glanced at the screen as he pulled up his phone. Claire. His sister.

  Strange. She never phoned him in the middle of the day because she always knew he was busy with work.

  ‘Claire? What’s up?’

  He could hear the wavering signal—an occupational hazard on Arran—and one that drove him nuts.

  He strained to hear again. He could hear some background noise but no one talking.

  ‘Claire? Are you there
? I can’t really hear you.’

  Then he clicked. The background noise was that horrible sound. The sound of someone struggling to breathe because they were holding back their sobs. It was almost a regular occurrence for a GP. He just didn’t expect it from his sister.

  ‘Claire? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help? Where are you?’

  He could barely hear her words through the sobs. ‘It’s the adoption agency...they just phoned.’

  ‘And what? What’s wrong?’ His brain was racing. After seven years of IVF and other treatments, Claire and her husband had finally applied to adopt. The process was gruelling and not for the faint-hearted, but Claire was determined she wanted to be a mother.

  ‘We failed the first assessment.’ Her voice dissolved into another fit of sobs.

  ‘You what? What do you mean, you failed the assessment? Why on earth would they fail you?’ He was incredulous. This was his sister. He couldn’t comprehend for a second why they would fail the assessment process. Sure—she’d been a little frail lately. But anyone who had been through what she had would be exactly the same. It was hardly a surprise.

  ‘Well...it wasn’t us that failed. It was me.’

  He sagged back into his chair. A horrible sensation was sweeping over his skin. The hairs on his arms were pricking to attention.

  His voice automatically dropped. This wasn’t a time to shout. This wasn’t the time to be angry. This was the time to be Logan Scott, brother to Claire. ‘Why, Claire, what did they tell you?’

  Her voice was all over the place. One minute up, one minute down. ‘They said...they said...I wasn’t stable. I needed some time.’

  It was the most horrible sensation in the world. Tiny spots that had been sitting in different parts of his brain instantly having all the dots joined. He had been worried about Claire—she’d been under an enormous amount of pressure. And at times he’d worried about her mental health.

  But he was her brother. Not her doctor.

  And that churning feeling in his stomach was telling him just how much he’d failed her. Some stranger—in a room somewhere—had done an assessment on his sister—and had seen the current underlying issues. Said the words that no one else would say. Questioned her current mental health.

  He could have stopped this. He could have stopped her having to go through this.

  If only he’d had the courage to sit her down and tell her to wait a while—to take some time.

  Instead, he’d seen his sister, who was so desperate to be a mother she’d just moved on to the next option. The next rational possibility for her, without taking time to ascertain if she was ready for it.

  He couldn’t have failed her more if he’d tried.

  ‘Where are you, Claire?’

  Her voice wavered again. ‘I’m at home.’

  He stood up. ‘Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’

  He was instantly angry.

  Angry with himself. And angry with those around him.

  He should have spoken to his sister. He should have seen how everything had affected her.

  Instead, he’d spent the last few days focusing on his latest colleague. Thinking about the snatched glimpse of satin underwear. Thinking about long brown curls and a curvy frame. Thinking about the joy on his mother’s face as she got to experience being a surrogate gran.

  He shook his head. That made his gut twist.

  He didn’t have time for Gemma.

  He had to focus on his family.

  He had to focus on the needs of his sister.

  Because right now they were the most important thing in the world.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS ALMOST embarrassing how early they were.

  Gemma glanced at her watch—just after eight. Please let Mrs Scott be up already.

  Isla was adjusting her bag of goodies in the seat next to her. Her array of toys that she’d decided to bring along today.

  Getting Isla organised in the morning was usually like a military operation. It didn’t matter how much she’d arranged the night before. One shoe was always missing and Isla always wanted to change her outfit at least three times. At least she used to.

  Getting ready to go to Mrs Scott’s seemed to take her all of two minutes. Hence the reason they were so early.

  She pulled the car up outside the house and Isla opened her door and shot outside before she had a chance to speak. In two seconds flat she’d knocked on the door and opened it, shouting, ‘Hello, Granny Scott,’ at the top of her voice.

  Gemma followed her through to the big kitchen, the heart of the family home. Mary was baking—already—and Isla was tying her apron around her waist as they spoke.

  ‘Good morning, Mary. I’m sorry we’re so early. I thought it would take longer to get Isla organised in the morning.’

  Mary smiled and nodded towards the garden outside. ‘No matter, Gemma. You’re welcome any time. Go outside and say hello to my daughter Claire. There’s a pot of tea and some toast out there. Help yourself.’

  Gemma smiled and glanced at her watch. Surgery didn’t start until nine-thirty. She had lots of time to kill and meeting Logan’s sister would be nice.

  She walked out into the back garden. The early summer sun was already filling the sheltered garden with warmth. It really was a beautiful setting with the rich smell of Mary’s multicoloured rose bed filling the air.

  She was always a little nervous meeting new people, which was strange for a doctor as she met new people every day. But professional and personal were very different. The last few years had made her guarded about revealing too much of herself to people she didn’t know.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Gemma Halliday, the new island paediatrician. I’m working with your brother Logan.’

  The young dark-haired woman shifted in her seat at the sound of her voice and turned to meet her. She stood up and took Gemma’s hand. ‘Oh, how lovely to meet you. I’m Claire. My mum has told me so much about your daughter Isla.’

  She lifted the teapot and gestured towards a cup. ‘Would you like some tea?’

  Gemma nodded gratefully and sat down.

  ‘Thanks, Claire. That would be lovely.’

  She was struck by how pale Claire was. Maybe it was that her hair was so dark, but her skin seemed rather washed out. Maybe belying some underlying condition?

  She couldn’t be much younger than Gemma was herself, but Claire was quite thin, with dark circles visible under her eyes. And there was something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  ‘So, what brings you to Arran, Gemma? And you’d better get used to answering that question, we’re a nosey bunch over here.’

  Gemma laughed. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer the question without giving too much away. ‘I wanted to get away from the city. Isla’s about to start school and we lived in a really built-up area. I guess I decided that’s not where I wanted to bring up my daughter.’ She looked around the beautiful garden and shook her head. ‘We didn’t have anywhere like this to sit back home. It was time for a change.’

  Claire took a sip of her tea. ‘You timed it well. Isla will make lots of new friends, starting school here.’

  ‘I hope so.’ She watched as Isla appeared at the back door, carrying a pile of washing that looked suspiciously like dolls’ clothes. There was a little rope strung between two trees and she took great care in pegging her washing to the line. She smiled. ‘Your mum has been a real blessing in disguise for me. My mum and dad died years ago and, to be honest, I didn’t really appreciate what Isla was missing out on. She was practically skipping this morning at the thought of spending time with your mum.’

  There was a sad flicker across Claire’s eyes, her voice wistful. ‘My mum will be a wonderful grandmother. It just hasn’t happened yet.’

  And she didn’t need to say any more. Because the look on her face said it all. That’s what it was. The sadness around Claire. The periphery
of a dark cloud sitting on her shoulders. Gemma recognised it so well. It had been the look of her friend Lesley for years and years.

  Guilt twisted at her stomach. The permanent reminder of what she’d done.

  This was bringing back painful reminders. She hadn’t been able to bear Lesley looking like this. The stress, the not eating, the weight loss, the depression. She hadn’t been able to bear the river of tears that Lesley had cried every month when, again, she hadn’t been pregnant. And the accumulation of all those things had resulted in her making the biggest decision of her life—offering to be a surrogate.

  It was odd. She hadn’t been around anyone in the same position since. And the overwhelming rush of emotions at Claire’s predicament seemed to flood her. She had to be calm. She had to be reasonable. Most importantly, she had to be supportive.

  She sipped her tea. ‘Well, give it time, Claire. You’re still a young woman. There are lots of options out there.’

  Claire nodded and started spreading some butter on the toast, handing a slice over to Gemma. ‘Arran’s a fabulous place to bring up children. I hope you’ll like it here. How’s your house?’

  ‘Honestly? Better than I could have hoped for. I didn’t even view it before I bought it—except online, of course. It suits me and Isla perfectly. I’ve always dreamed of having a house that looked over the water. I can’t actually believe I’ve got it, I have to keep pinching myself.’

  Claire smiled. ‘I took all those things for granted for so long. As a teenager I couldn’t wait to get off the island. But after a few years on the mainland I couldn’t wait to get back. I couldn’t see myself getting married and living anywhere but here.’

  ‘Is your husband an islander?’

  She nodded. ‘And I hated him all the way through school. The frog took a number of years to turn into a prince.’

  Gemma threw back her head and laughed. She liked this girl. She really did.

  ‘So what does he do?’

  Claire rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, you’ll meet him at some point—everybody does. Danny’s the manager of the island bank.’

  ‘And are you working right now?’