Tempted by the Hot Highland Doc

An older woman sat next to her, sipping a cup of tea. This time Kristie had been prepared for the ferry crossing, and her anti-sickness tablets seemed to be doing the trick. The older woman smiled. ‘There’s an outdoor centre. They’re all going there to stay for a week. I guarantee tonight not one of them will sleep. But after their first day on Arran tomorrow, they’ll all be sleeping by nine o’clock.’

Kristie nodded half-heartedly. She wasn’t really paying attention. Last night she’d watched the edited first show about the Hot Highland Doc.

For want of a better word—it had been dynamite.

The editing had helped, showing the crabbit doctor—a definitely unwilling participant in the show—turning to a melting puddle of emotion at the death of his elderly patient. The final shot that Gerry had sneaked of him connecting with Mac the dog and saying the words, ‘Looks like it’s just you and me,’ would melt the proverbial hearts of the nation when it was shown in a few weeks.

Louie couldn’t contain his excitement. ‘Play on the fact he doesn’t like you.’

Kristie had been a bit stung. ‘What do you mean, he doesn’t like me?’ She hadn’t realised it was quite so obvious to anyone but her.

‘The audience will love it. You against him. The sparks are tremendous.’

Kristie bit her bottom lip as the announcement came for them all to head to their cars. Last time she’d been desperate to capture anything on camera.

This time around she felt the pressure. The producers didn’t just like it, they loved it. Apparently the limited footage they’d captured had been the most entertaining—in a heart-wrenching kind of way—of any of the other Year in the Life of shows. They hadn’t, of course, shown John Henderson. Gerry had filmed Rhuaridh from the back, leaning over the body, without revealing anything about the identity of the patient.

He’d also filmed ‘around’ Rhuaridh, capturing the essence of the home and the situation, with a particular focus on Mac, and how the professionals had dealt with everything, without sticking the camera in their faces. Kristie was a tiny bit nervous what people would think about it when it finally aired—but she knew it had squeezed at even her heart.

She climbed into the car with Gerry and gave him a nod, handing him a schedule. ‘I’ve had time to be in touch a bit more. We’re spending some time in the A and E department in the cottage hospital and filming one of the regular surgeries this time.’

He gave a nod. ‘Here’s hoping we get something good.’ He raised one eyebrow. ‘No pressure, of course.’

She shot him a glare. He was being sarcastic, of course.

‘Where are we staying?’

Gerry wrinkled his nose. ‘We’ve got a bed and breakfast this time—just down the road from the surgery.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Guess we won’t need to live on cereal for three days this time.’

She laughed. Neither she nor Gerry was blessed with cooking skills. ‘I’ve decided. We’re eating out every night and putting it on expenses.’

He nodded in agreement, ‘Oh, I can live with that.’

They settled into the bed and breakfast quickly and made their way to the surgery for their scheduled filming. It was obvious news had spread since the last time they’d been there as a number of the patients sitting in the waiting room started talking to them as soon as they appeared.

‘Are you the TV people?’

‘Do you want to film me?’

‘When will I be on TV?’

‘Oh, you’re here.’ Her head shot up. It was hardly the most welcoming statement. Rhuaridh was standing in the doorway of his surgery dressed in a white shirt and navy trousers. It looked like he’d caught the sun in the last few days as his skin was more tanned than before.

Her first instinct was to hear a wolf whistle in her head. If her friend Alice had been here she was sure she would have actually done it in real life. One thing was for sure—Rhuaridh Gillespie was like a good old-fashioned prom king standing right in front of her.

But then her mouth dried. For a few seconds all she could remember was how she’d felt last time she’d been around him and he’d been dealing with Mr Henderson’s dead body. She tried so hard not to let the others notice her reaction. Of course, Gerry had picked up on it. But he hadn’t asked any questions.

The surgery filming went fine. For the first few patients it was obvious Rhuaridh wasn’t a natural in front of the camera. Eventually, though, he seemed to forget they were there. But filming blood-pressure checks, medicine reviews, chest infections and leg ulcers didn’t exactly make scintillating viewing. Kristie could feel a small wave of panic start to build inside.

By the time the day had come to an end she wasn’t sure they had enough for even ten minutes of not very interesting film. She was just about to clarify their arrangements for the next day when Rhuaridh’s pager sounded.

He looked just as surprised as she did. He hadn’t been wearing one the last time she’d been there. A deep frown creased his forehead. It took him a few seconds to look up and speak once he’d checked the message. He gave his head a little shake. ‘I thought it was for the local lifeboat...but it’s not...it’s Magda.’

He looked around his room blankly for a few seconds. Was this a sign of panic? She would never have suspected it from Rhuaridh Gillespie—and who on earth was Magda? A wife? A girlfriend? He hadn’t mentioned either last time and she couldn’t help but be a tiny bit disappointed. Within another few seconds the look was gone. He strode quickly across the waiting room, grabbing his bag. Kristie stayed on his heels, waving Gerry to follow. If this was something good, she wanted to make sure they didn’t miss it.

He shot her a glance as she opened the back door of his car to climb inside. She saw the words form on his lips—the words of dismissal—but she completely ignored him, turning to shout to Gerry instead, ‘Let’s go!’

It seemed for Rhuaridh it wasn’t worth the time involved in fighting. Gerry had barely slammed the door before he took off at speed onto the main road in Lamlash. As they started to drive, his phone started ringing. He answered with a press on his steering wheel. ‘Miriam, are you with her?’

‘Of course. How far away are you?’

‘Less than two minutes.’

‘Good.’ The phone went dead.

Kristie was immediately intrigued. ‘Who are you visiting?’

Rhuaridh’s jaw was clenched. ‘My colleague, Magda. She’s planned for a home delivery but things are looking complicated.’

Gerry shot her a look. There was a gleam in his eye. This would be more interesting filming than what they’d already got.

Kristie tried her best to phrase the question carefully. She obviously wante

d the footage—but didn’t want to get in the way if something could go wrong. Even she had a line that wouldn’t be crossed.

‘We didn’t get to meet your colleague,’ she started.

Rhuaridh cut her off. ‘You should have—she was the one who signed up for the show. Her pregnancy was an unexpected but very happy event.’

Gerry gave her a thumbs-up in the back of the car. If Magda had initially signed for the show, she might not object to being filmed. There was something in the way Rhuaridh said the words. He had an obvious affection for his colleague.

They pulled up outside a large white house at the end of a long driveway. The front door was open and Kristie gestured to Gerry to get his camera on his shoulder ready to film.

They jumped out of the car and she hesitated as she heard the voices inside.

‘Don’t panic, Magda, let’s get you out right now and I’ll attach a CTG to monitor the baby. Now take a deep breath and try not to worry.’

She glanced at Gerry. Yip. He was already filming, capturing the sound inside.

Rhuaridh strode straight inside. Then stopped dead, meaning Kristie walked into the back of him.

‘Oh, sorry.’

The main room of the house appeared to have undergone a complete transformation for the delivery of this baby. Right in the centre of the room was a large birthing pool. Soothing music was playing in the background, the blinds were closed and there were a few lit candles.

A heavily pregnant woman with blonde hair and a black loose wet kaftan was being helped from the pool by a worried-looking man and an older woman.

The woman looked up. ‘Give me a hand, Rhuaridh.’

He stepped over quickly, taking the woman’s place as she dropped to her knees and pulled a small monitor from a black case.