There was a nagging voice of doubt in Rhuaridh’s head. He hadn’t seen this young girl since he’d got back here. She wouldn’t remember him at all. When he’d left the island she’d been barely a baby. He held out his hands. ‘I’m a doctor. I can speak to her. But I’m not a psychiatrist, or a psychologist. I don’t want to make anything worse. Particularly if she’s already made threats.’
‘Do you have any other counsellors on the island?’ Kristie stepped forward. The teacher shook his head.
She put her hand on her chest. ‘Then let me.’ She turned to Rhuaridh. ‘You know that I’ve been trained. Let me talk to her. Maybe I can relate. I lost someone I loved too, plus I understand what it’s like to be a teenage girl.’
‘I don’t want you to be out of your depth,’ he said quietly. He was thinking about her being upset the other week when the caller to the helpline wouldn’t speak.
‘I want to try,’ she said determinedly.
Rhuaridh turned back to the teacher. ‘Maybe we should wait. Maybe we should tell her that her mum is on her way back over on the ferry. Has anything else been happening in the school we should know about—any bullying?’
The teacher shrugged. ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t know. Nothing obvious.’
Rhuaridh let out a sigh. He was torn. Torn between looking after the girl behind the door and putting the woman he loved in a position of vulnerability.
There was so much at risk here, so much at stake. How would this affect Jill and Kristie if things didn’t work out? What if Jill reacted to something that Kristie said—the impact on both could be devastating. He was so torn. He wanted to fix this himself—but he wasn’t sure that he could. Maybe Jill would react better to a woman, particularly one who might understand her loss. Ahead of him was the closed door. It was symbolic really—demonstrating exactly how the young girl in there felt. He glanced from the panicked temporary teacher and the determined woman in front of him, his head juggling what was best for everyone. There was a hollow echo in his head.
* * *
Kristie straightened up. She’d had enough of this. Enough of waiting. He was trying to protect her—she got that. But she didn’t need protection.
On the ferry on the way over here today, all she’d thought about was how much she wanted to see Rhuaridh. How much she wanted to be in his arms. For the last four weeks she’d started to dream in Technicolor—and the dreams didn’t just include Rhuaridh, they also included this place. Arran, with its lush green countryside, hills and valleys, and surrounding stormy seas. Even though she’d had a dozen job offers now and enough money in the bank to pay the bills for a while, her love of TV was definitely waning. The book she’d started writing had taken on a life of its own. Rhuaridh’s encouragement had meant the world to her, and after that the words had just seemed to flow even easier. She’d shown it to Louie, who’d shown it to another friend who was a literary agent. The agent had offered representation already. It was almost like her world had shifted, shaping her future. And the one thing she’d been sure of was that her heart was leading the charge. Could she think about a life in Scotland? She hadn’t really considered things. Would she be able to walk away from her TV career, and her work with the helpline?
She swallowed and turned to both men. ‘I’m going to do this.’
She walked up to the door and stood close, trying to think of the best way to appeal to Jill. Kids were all over social media right now. Maybe she should try the you-might-know-me approach?
She gave the door a gentle rap with her knuckles. ‘Jill, it’s Kristie Nelson. You know, from the TV show? I’ve come to talk to you.’
She could hear sobbing inside the room. The kind that made the bottom fall out of her stomach. ‘I don’t want to talk to anyone.’
Kristie leaned her head back against the door, trying to think like a teenager these days. Her head was still in the social media zone. Their life revolved around social media. She pulled out her phone and did a search for Jill. Sure enough, it only took seconds to find her. Her online profile had a few selfies, and a few older pictures that showed a little girl laughing, sitting on her father’s knee. It made her heart pang.
‘How are you feeling?’ she started.
‘How do you think I’m feeling?’ came the angry shout.
Good. She’d had another reply. Her main goal now was to keep Jill talking.
‘I know about your dad, Jill. I know how sad you’re feeling. Do you want to talk? Because I’m here. I’m here to listen to you.’
The sobs got more exasperated. ‘How can you know how I’m feeling? How can you know what’s in my head? Have you lost your dad?’
Kristie turned around and slid down the door so she was leaning against it. She may as well get comfortable. She wanted Jill to know that she was there to stay—there to listen. ‘I’ve lost both of my parents,’ she answered quietly. ‘And I lost my sister three years ago. And I think about her every single day and the fact she’s not here. And sometimes it catches me unawares—like when I see something I know she’d like and I can’t show it to her, or when I hear something that makes me laugh and I can’t pick up the phone and tell her.’
There was silence for a few seconds then she heard a noise. Jill was moving closer to the door. ‘Three years?’ she breathed.
‘Honey, these feelings will get better with time. You won’t ever forget, and some days will be sadder than others, but I promise you, you can learn to live with this. You just need to take it one day at a time. You just need to breathe.’
She could feel empathy pouring out of her as she tried to reach out to the teenager behind the door. The teenager who thought that no one could understand.
The voice was quiet—almost a whisper. ‘It would have been my dad’s birthday today. He would have been forty-five.’ Kristie’s heart twisted in her chest. Of course. A birthday for someone who’d been lost. The roughest of days.
She heard the strangled sob again. All she wanted to do was put her arms around this hurting young girl. ‘I get it,’ she said steadily. ‘Birthdays are always hard. I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve cried every birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas that my sister hasn’t been here.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Just know that you’re not alone, Jill. Other people have gone through this. They understand. You just need to find someone to listen. Someone you feel as if you can talk to. Do you have someone like that?’
The reply was hesitant. ‘It should be my mum. But I can’t. I can’t talk to her because she’s so upset herself. She cries when she thinks I can’t hear.’ There was another quiet noise. Kristie recognised it. Jill had sat down on the opposite side of the door from her. It gave her a sense of hope.
‘Okay, I get it. What about if we find someone who is just for you? Someone you can talk to whenever you need to?’
‘Th-that might be okay... But...’
‘But?’ prompted Kristie.
‘I don’t want to have to go somewhere. To see someone.’
‘Would you talk to someone on the phone? Have you tried any of the emotional support helplines around here?’
‘M-maybe.’
Kristie sucked in her breath. ‘Did you talk?’
There was silence for a few seconds. ‘No.’
Tears were brimming in Kristie’s eyes.
‘I... I just wasn’t ready.’
Kristie rested her head on her knees. One of the things that Rhuaridh had said before clicked into place in her mind. About all you can do is the best that you can. She wiped her tears again. ‘Are you ready now?’ she asked.
‘I... I think so...’
‘Jill, can I come in?’
There was the longest silence. Then a click at the door. Kristie cast a glance over her shoulder to where the teacher and Rhuaridh were standing. Her heart twisted in her chest. He hadn’t believed in her. And for a few seconds it had felt
like a betrayal—like the bottom had fallen out of her world. But she would deal with that later. Right now, she was going to do the best that she could.
‘Kristie...’ The voice came from behind her.
But she just shook her head, opened the door and closed it behind her.
* * *
He sat there for hours. First talking to the teacher, then to Jill’s frantic mother, who’d practically run all the way from the ferry. He’d managed to get hold of a children’s mental health nurse who would come and see Jill tomorrow from the mainland. This wasn’t something that could be fixed overnight.
Kristie finally emerged from the classroom with her arm around Jill’s shoulder. Jill threw herself into her mother’s arms and Kristie waited to talk to both mother and daughter together. Just like he would expect a professional counsellor to do.
She’d been a star today. And he knew she’d been scared. He knew she’d had to expose part of herself to connect with the teenager. And words couldn’t describe how proud he was of her right now.
He stood to the side until he was sure she had finished talking, then joined her to let Jill and her mother know the plans for the next day.
The rest of the students had now been sent home so the school was quiet, silence echoing around them. Rhuaridh lifted his hand to touch Kristie’s cheek. ‘I can’t believe you did that,’ he said quietly.
She met his gaze. ‘I had to. She needed someone to talk to—someone to listen—and I could be that person.’
‘I’m so proud of you. I know this must have been difficult.’
Something jolted in his heart. He hadn’t wanted to say these words here, but he had to go with the feelings that were overwhelming him. ‘I love you, Kristie. I’ve spent the last few months loving you and was just waiting for the right time to tell you.’ He held up one hand, ‘And even though it’s a completely ridiculous and totally unromantic place, the right time is now.’
He couldn’t stop talking. ‘And I know it’s ridiculous because we live on different continents and both have jobs and careers. I don’t expect you to pack up and live here. In fact, the last thing I’d want is for you to come here and resent me for asking you to. But I had to tell you. I had to tell you that I love you and you’ve stolen a piece of my heart.’ He lifted his hand to his chest.
She blinked and he could see the hesitation on her lips and his heart twisted inside his chest. He’d taken her by surprise. She hadn’t been expecting this.