or Lesley. They’d gone to medical school together, or been on a course with one of them, or knew a neighbour. The list was endless.
As were the whispers. The bad surrogate. The woman who’d made the papers when she’d ‘stolen’ another couple’s baby. Not strictly true. But true enough that it had caused her a world of pain, a court case and five years of sleepless nights.
But now it was finally over. Now she could finally move on.
Now, in accordance with the law, Isla was officially hers.
She stared out across the water. Arran. Twenty miles long and ten miles across. A population of ten thousand that swelled to twenty thousand over the summer holidays.
It was perfect. Even down to the cottage she’d purchased over the internet for her and Isla to stay in. Two days’ work as a paediatrician all year long and one day’s work as a GP over the busy summer months. That, along with an occasional emergency shift in the island hospital, would be more than enough.
Some of her friends thought she was crazy, moving to a place she’d only ever visited on summer holidays as a child and making a new life there. Taking up a new job with some extra part-time hours when she hadn’t even sorted out her childcare for Isla yet.
That did make her stomach give a little flip. But she’d had long conversations with the head of the GP practice and he’d assured her he had a few people in mind he could vouch for to help with Isla’s care.
Time with Isla was precious. She was starting school in August. And although properties on the island could be expensive, the sale of her flat in Glasgow had given her a healthy profit. She didn’t need a big income. She wasn’t looking to be a millionaire. She just needed enough to keep her and Isla comfortable.
‘Mummy, can we look at our new house again?’
The brisk sea wind was whipping their hair around their faces. The sun was shining brightly but the wind was cutting straight through the thin material of her summer dress. Maybe she’d been a little over-optimistic when she’d dressed that morning. It was always the same in Scotland, the first glimmer of sunshine and the entire nation pulled out their summer clothes in case it was the only chance they got to wear them. Gemma held out her hand. ‘Let’s go inside and get something to drink. We can look at the pictures again then.’
They settled in with tea, orange juice and two crumpets with jam. Isla pulled the crumpled piece of paper from Gemma’s bag for the hundredth time. She flicked over the pages, her little finger stroking down the paper over the pictures. ‘My room’s going to be yellow, isn’t it, Mummy? It will be so-o-o beautiful.’
She had that little wistful tone in her voice, with the slightly dreamy edge to it. Isla hadn’t wanted to move at first. She was only five but the thought of starting school without her nursery friends had caused her lots of sleepless nights. It had almost been a relief when she’d started to romanticise about their new house and her new bedroom—all set on a Scottish island.
The extra expense of buying her a whole new range of bedroom furniture, along with letting her pick her own curtains and bedding, had been worth every penny.
Gemma had arranged with a local contractor to paint the inside of her house before they arrived. The removals van had left a few hours before them and caught the earlier ferry. Hopefully, by the time she got there most things would have been unpacked and the new carpet she’d bought for the living room would be in place.
She was trying not to concentrate on the fact that the contractor hadn’t answered her emails or phone calls for the last few days. She’d had more than enough to think about. He was probably busy—busy in her new house, making it ready for their arrival. At least, she hoped he was.
The ferry journey was smooth enough. Thankfully Isla hardly seemed to notice the occasional wave swell and Gemma finally started to relax.
Isla had started to draw a picture with her crayons. ‘Look, Mummy, here we are on our new island.’
Gemma took a sip of her tea. ‘Who is that?’ she asked, pointing to a third figure in the drawing.
‘That’s your new boyfriend.’
Her tea splattered all over the table and halfway down her chin. ‘What?’ She grabbed napkins and mopped furiously.
Isla gave her the glance of a worldly eighty-year-old instead of an innocent five-year-old child. ‘We might be able to find you a boyfriend on the island, Mummy. We couldn’t in Glasgow.’
There was so much innocence in her words. Isla had never, ever mentioned Gemma’s lack of a boyfriend before. It had never been an issue. Never come up. But she’d obviously given it some thought. ‘Tammy’s mummy at nursery got a new boyfriend. He bought Tammy a laptop and took her to the transport museum.’
Ah. She was starting to understand. Understand in little-girl terms.
‘I think they might all be taken. Arran’s quite a small island. And Mummy really doesn’t have time for a boyfriend. She’s starting a new job and we need to visit your new school.’ She ruffled Isla’s red curls. ‘Anyway, you’re much too young for a laptop.’
Isla shook her head, her little face instantly serious. ‘I think I might need one when I go to school. I don’t want to be the only person without one, Mummy.’
Her blue eyes were completely sincere. If it had been anyone else in the world Gemma would think she was being played. But she already knew that her five-year-old had concerns about making friends and fitting in at a new school. Sometimes she felt Isla was too old for her years.
Gemma had tried her best. But the flat in central Glasgow hadn’t exactly been the most sociable area for kids. Isla really only had her friends to play with at nursery, and then again on the odd occasion she’d been invited to a party. Juggling full-time work, childcare and single parenthood wasn’t easy.
And that had been part of the problem. Part of the reason she’d wanted to get away to a different style of life for her and her daughter. Being a full-time paediatrician in a busy city was frantic. Particularly when a sick kid came in minutes before you were due to finish. Thank goodness for an understanding childminder. But even she’d had her limits and had eventually told Gemma she was struggling.
She gave Isla a smile. ‘I’ve seen photos of your new school. They’ve got some lovely computers there. I’m sure the teachers will let you work on them.’
Her phone buzzed in her pocket once, then went silent again. Weren’t they still in the middle of the Firth of Clyde? Apparently not. She turned her head. They looked only moments from the island. She pulled her phone from her pocket. It was an unknown number and her signal had vanished. This was supposed to be the best network for the island but it looked as though the coverage wasn’t as good as she’d been promised.
Looked like she still had a lot to learn about Arran.
A loud passenger announcement made her curiosity around the phone call instantly vanish.
‘All passengers, please return to your vehicles prior to arrival in Brodick.’
‘That’s us, Mummy!’
Gemma smiled and took a last gulp of her tea. Isla’s hand automatically fitted inside her own and she gave it a little squeeze as they joined the queue to file down to the car deck.
Her little red car was packed to the rafters. There was barely room for her and Isla to scramble back inside and get their seat belts in place. The removal van was similarly packed and the costs of moving to an island had proved much more prohibitive than moving somewhere inland. As a result most of their clothes were squashed into the car around them, along with a large amount of Isla’s toys.
She tried to remember the directions that she’d been given as the cars slowly trundled off the ferry. It wasn’t too far between Brodick and Lamlash—the capital of the island and the place where they would be staying—and the journey was over in ten minutes.
It