a reference—it’s my mother.’
She stopped. ‘Your mother?’
He nodded.
‘Oh.’ First time he’d seen Gemma stunned into silence.
‘Well, I guess that will be okay, then. Providing, of course, she’s happy to do it—and Isla likes her, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘Isla likes who?’
Isla had appeared next to them.
Logan knelt down. ‘My mum. She’s going to be your new surrogate granny. If you like her, that is. It means your mum will be able to work in the surgery for a while.’
It was the strangest thing. The little girl opened her mouth to say something and, from the corner of his eye, he could see Gemma shake her head. ‘We’ll talk about it later. Go inside, Isla.’
Logan straightened up and stretched his back with a loud clicking sound. What was going on?
‘Eurgh!’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Orthopaedics not your thing?’ He gave his back a shake. ‘What can I say? Years of abuse from sailing.’
‘You sail?’
‘Just about everyone on Arran sails. That’s the thing about staying on an island.’
She looked out over the water. ‘I suppose. Listen, about starting right away. I only agreed to do one day a week. I don’t know how much help I’ll actually be to you.’
He nodded. ‘I know. When are you supposed to start your paediatric hours?’
‘The week after next. I’d timed it so we would have a little time to settle in and sort out childcare and things.’
He could hear the tone in her voice. The gentle implication that she really didn’t want to do this. She wanted time to settle herself and her daughter. But he was desperate. The surgery was currently bursting at the seams. And would be for the next few weeks—there was no way a replacement GP could be found on an island like Arran.
He scratched his chin. ‘We might be able to rearrange things. The health board are used to there being issues on Arran—and looking at flexible options. How would you feel about deferring your start date for the paediatric work? Sam will be off for at least six weeks. It would give us a little more leeway.’
She gave a little laugh. ‘I get the impression you’re not really listening to me, Logan. Don’t you know how to take no for an answer?’
He tried not to laugh out loud. ‘Only in personal circumstances. Never in professional.’
She gave a little sigh and held up her hand. ‘If, and only if, I like your mother and Isla likes her, I’ll agree to help you out. But not today, definitely not today.’
‘Tomorrow afternoon? That surgery is a stinker.’
He was chancing his luck, but it was the only way to survive in these parts.
‘You make it sound so appealing.’
‘Oh, go on. You know you want to.’
‘What about the health board stuff?’
He waved his hand. ‘I’ll sort that. You’ll cover until Sam comes back?’
She nodded. ‘Four weeks only. Three days a week. I need to start my paediatric hours soon or they’ll forget why they employed me.’ It was almost as if she were drawing a line in the sand.
‘And a few on-calls for the hospital?’
A soft pink teddy bounced off his head. ‘Only if there’s absolutely nobody—and I mean nobody—else that can do it. I’d need to wake up Isla and bring her in the car.’
‘Understood.’ He held out his hand towards his latest lifesaver.
‘Welcome to Arran, Dr Halliday.’
* * *
Gemma opened her eyes. Curtain poles were going to be an issue. It was only five-thirty and sunshine was streaming through her bedroom window. She made a mental note. First thing, see if anywhere on the island sells curtain poles.
She rolled over in her bed and tried to stifle a groan. Second thing. Don’t let perfect strangers steamroller you into starting work early.
She should be having a leisurely day with Isla, sipping tea and sorting out some boxes. Instead, she’d be introducing her daughter to a potential babysitter and getting a guided tour of the local Angel Grace Hospital and GP surgery. She must be mad.
‘Mummy, are we getting up now?’
She smiled. Isla seemed to have an internal radar and knew whenever her mother’s eyes flickered open. Gemma pulled back the cover and swung her legs out of bed. ‘Tea and toast?’
‘Tea and toast,’ Isla said, in her most grown-up voice.
* * *
Three hours later they were standing in front of a cottage with pretty flowered curtains. The blue front door opened and an older woman with an apron tied around her waist stuck her head outside. ‘You must be Isla,’ she said immediately. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. I was just about to start some baking. Would you like to help me?’
There was the quick nod of a little head and Gemma was summarily dismissed. Moments later Isla was standing on a wooden chair at the kitchen sink, washing her hands, a little girl’s pink apron tied around her waist.
Gemma hesitated at the kitchen door. ‘Mary, thank you for this. Are you sure you don’t mind? Would you like me to stay to give you a chance to get to know each other a bit better?’
She’d had a chance to have a long conversation on the phone with Mary Scott last night. Logan had been right. His mother seemed delighted to look after Isla and had asked Gemma about her interests so she could plan ahead.
A floury hand was waved. ‘We’ll be fine. Go on and get to work.’
Gemma grabbed a piece of paper to write down her mobile number. ‘Here’s my number. Call me about anything—anything at all.’
‘We’ll be fine, Mummy. Go and meet Logan. I liked him.’ Gemma felt her face flush, and could see the not-so-hidden smile on Mary’s face. She dreaded to think what was going on in her head. Isla had lifted a glass jar of sultanas and was ready to pour them into Mary’s mixing bowl.
Children were so much more relaxed. So much more at ease than adults. Her stomach had been in a permanent knot since last night at the thought of starting work early and having to meet the rest of her new colleagues. Isla didn’t seem to have any such worries.
Gemma picked up her car keys again. ‘Okay, then.’ She dropped a kiss on Isla’s head. ‘See you later, pumpkin. Be good for Mary and I’ll pick you up in a few hours.’
The surgery was only a five-minute drive away and the hospital five more minutes along the road. If she needed to get there in a hurry, she could.
The practice was buzzing as she entered. Patients were already sitting in the waiting room, with a number queuing at the reception desk. Gemma hesitated and then joined the queue, waiting her turn until she reached the front.
The receptionist, with long brown hair in a ponytail and a badge that read ‘Julie’, gave her a friendly smile. ‘Are you a holidaymaker? Need an emergency appointment?’
‘No, I’m Gemma. Gemma Halliday, the new doctor. I’m supposed to be meeting Logan Scott here today.’
The smile faltered for the briefest second as Gemma felt the young receptionist’s eyes quickly run up and down her body. Should she have dressed more formally? Her pale pink shirt and grey skirt had suited at her last job. Maybe things were a little more formal in Arran?
The girl leaned