oddly deflated. Perhaps it was the fact that there would be another person living close to her who would want to know all about her, another person to convince that there was nothing untoward about her coming to Scuola. It would have been nice, she thought wistfully, to have had a place to herself so that she could relax after work and not bother about anyone else or their probing questions into her background. Still, perhaps this arrangement would not last too long.
‘I suggest I take you there now,’ Atholl said. ‘You can have a hot bath and help yourself to whatever you want to eat—at least,’ he corrected himself with a grin, ‘whatever there might be in the fridge. You must be starving.’
‘Won’t Shona mind me rooting around in the kitchen?’
‘Shona will probably join you in whatever you dig out.’ He grinned. ‘We’ll call in at the harbour master’s office for your case—and, don’t worry, we’ll take the Land Rover this time. Even I don’t fancy the thought of balancing a case on the bike.
‘I’m taking Terry to the cottage,’ he told Isobel as they crossed the hall. ‘Forward any calls to me on my mobile. I’ll do all my visits after that.’
Isobel nodded rather dourly. ‘I hope you’ve got some food in.’
Atholl looked at his receptionist rather defiantly. ‘And you’ll be pleased to know that Terry’s going to be joining us in the practice.’
Even though I’m a girl, thought Terry wryly.
Isobel pursed her lips. ‘I hope it works out…’
Terry looked up at him questioningly as they walked out of the house. ‘She sounds very dubious about me working here,’ she remarked.
He shrugged. ‘She a bit of a pessimist where I’m concerned,’ he said enigmatically.
The weather had changed in the time they’d been inside. The dark clouds had been blown away and now an eggshell-blue sky was spreading from the west and lighting up the tops of the hills with pale sunshine. Suddenly the place looked far less forbidding and the hedges and trees that arched across the road as they drove along had a fresh green newly washed quality about them. Atholl pointed out various landmarks and told Terry more about the practice on the journey.
‘You might think that the practice is only big enough for one doctor,’ he remarked. ‘But we look after two islands here—there’s a little ferry that goes over to the smaller island of Hersa. I do a clinic there once a week but, of course, if there’s a real emergency we have a helicopter, which is part of the air sea rescue team.’
‘It sounds very varied. How do you get around on Hersa?’
He laughed. ‘That’s where the motorbike comes in useful. I take it with me on the ferry. There are a lot of patients who live in remote places, not just on Hersa but here as well—it’s useful when they can’t get to see us. And we’re just into the tourist season so the population almost doubles.’
‘What do the tourists do?’
He laughed. ‘Besides fishing, walking, golf and deer stalking? There’s two distilleries to visit and the big hotel has tennis courts and a swimming pool. And then there’s climbing on the mountains you see over there—a very good source of patients,’ he said grimly. ‘It’s amazing the number of naive people who try to get to the top totally without equipment or experience.’
What a contrast to her patch in London, thought Terry. It was almost too much to take in, and she was gradually becoming aware that it wasn’t going to be the sort of quiet country practice she’d imagined.
‘I’ll need to get some transport,’ she said. ‘And I’d rather not borrow your motorbike!’
‘Don’t worry about that—you can use Uncle Euan’s little car. The main thing is to take a map and your mobile—it’s easy to get lost in the hills out there.’
‘It’s all very beautiful.’ Terry peered through the car window at the changing scene in front of them. ‘There must be some wonderful walks—I can’t wait to explore.’
Atholl smiled. ‘There’s so many different walks along the shore and back through the woods and the hills I never tire of them.’ He glanced at her and said in an offhand way, ‘You’d be welcome to come with a small group of us who walk together sometimes if you like.’
Funny how much that suggestion pleased her—she’d been sad for so long that the slightest lifting of her spirits felt almost alien. It was as if a curtain had been drawn apart a little and a small beam of sunlight had filtered through.
‘I’d enjoy that very much,’ she said. ‘Were you born here?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I only came here in the school holidays. I was born and raised in Glasgow.’
‘I believe it’s a lovely city.’
‘I lived in a very deprived area,’ he explained. ‘There’s still a lot of poverty in parts of Glasgow, and my family lived—still do really—in a pretty poor way. Not many advantages to life in the area I was brought up in.’
He’d obviously been glad to leave, thought Terry, whereas she had been so very happy with her life in London until…until it had all crumbled around about her ears and she’d been forced to depart. She sighed and leaned back in her seat, trying to blank out that last vision she’d had of her father as he’d lain dying in her arms and her frantic efforts to save him.
She bit her lip, telling herself firmly that she’d just got to put that episode in her life behind her. All that was finished and done with now.
‘So you won’t go back to live there, then,’ she commented.
He shrugged, a wry smile touching his lips. ‘My family think I should be back with them. They think I’ve let them down—sort of leaving the sinking ship kind of thing and coming to a better area when I could be of much more use where they live.’ He gave a humourless laugh. ‘They imagine I’m hobnobbing with lairds and big landowners—well above my station in life!’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ cried Terry. ‘You’re helping your uncle out—and you’re needed here as well!’
He laughed at her response. ‘Nevertheless, perhaps they have a point. The fact is, though, that I needed to get more experience—have a wider take on life. I’d lived and trained there all my life, and I was longing to spread my wings. And once I’d started working here, I fell in love with the place.’
He changed gear and slowed as they turned a corner and drew up in front of a square stone cottage surrounded by a little copse and protected from the road by a small front garden.
‘Here we are—rough and ready perhaps, but it’s home to me,’ he remarked.
The cottage wasn’t very big, but was most attractive, with a Virginia creeper running rampant over the walls and an untidy rose scrambling round the front door. Terry descended from the Land Rover rather wearily and followed Atholl as he went to the front door and opened it.
He whistled as he went into the little hallway, and there was a joyful bark and a large golden retriever came bounding out of the back regions and flung itself at Atholl.
‘Allow me to introduce you,’ he said. ‘This is Shona—she rules the house, I’m afraid!’
Terry looked up at Atholl and laughed, throwing back her head in amusement. ‘And I thought Shona was your girlfriend…’
The sun was streaming through the open door and fell on her raised face, catching the gold light in her hair and emphasising her large amber eyes sparkling up at him with amusement, her lips slightly parted. Looking down at her, Atholl felt slightly stunned. He’d realised she was attractive when he’d first seen her. Now he was suddenly conscious that she wasn’t just attractive—she was damned beautiful, her eyes like golden sherry set in a sweet heartshaped face. It unsettled him, made him nervous, thinking again