A Mother's Secret

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 backwards in her chair. ‘Logan!’ Her shout was like a foghorn. ‘Our new doctor’s arrived. Get out here.’

‘He’ll just be sec,’ she said, as she picked up a pile of patient notes and disappeared through a door behind her.

Gemma turned slowly. She could feel every set of eyes in the room studying her. All potential patients. Giving her the once-over. She took a deep breath and smiled nervously. ‘Hi, there.’ Her normally steady voice came out as a surprising squeak. This would never do.

She jumped as a hand settled in the small of her back. ‘Hi, Gemma.’ Logan’s voice was low, husky. Not what she expected in the middle of busy waiting room. She shifted a little. ‘I take it my mother and Isla are getting along famously?’

She nodded. ‘How did you guess?’

His hand pressed into her back, guiding her away from the watchful eyes in the waiting room and towards one of the consulting rooms. ‘My mother could hardly contain her excitement. She spent most of last night deciding what the two of them could bake together.’

Gemma smiled. ‘Yip, they were both on their way to being covered in flour when I left.’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘Doesn’t your mother have any grandchildren of her own.’

Something flitted across his eyes. ‘Not yet.’

What kind of answer was that? She instantly felt uncomfortable for asking the question. She watched as Logan poured coffee into two cups and handed one to her. He must have a wife or a partner and be trying for a family. Her eyes fell to his hand. No ring. But, then, these days that meant nothing. Lots of men didn’t wear rings.

His hand gestured towards the chair opposite his as he took a seat. He gave a professional kind of smile. It seemed it was all business with him here. That cheeky demeanour she’d witnessed the day before didn’t seem to feature.

‘You can see we’re already starting to get busy. This is just the start of the season. Arran’s population doubles in the summer months.’

She nodded. ‘I had heard that.’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘Did you clear it with the health board about me working here for the next month?’

He gave her a smile as he gritted his teeth apologetically. ‘Six weeks, actually. They agreed you can start your paediatric hours when the school session starts again.’

Her brain started to whirr. This was a new colleague. But he obviously didn’t know her at all. People making assumptions about her made her temper flare. He could have consulted her first.

She took a sip of her coffee and looked at him carefully. Logan Scott was probably used to being a force to be reckoned with. On a small island like this, he probably pretty much got his own way. It was clear to Gemma that at some point they would lock horns.

‘It would have been nice to be consulted, Logan,’ she said simply. He had already moved his attention elsewhere and was pulling up screens on his computer for her to look at.

‘What? Oh...right, sorry.’

He didn’t look sorry. He didn’t look sorry at all. The moment the words had come from his lips they had just vanished into the ether.

She pulled her chair around next to his to look at the information he was pulling up on the computer screen. ‘That’s fine. Just don’t do it again.’ Her voice was firm this time. Much more definite.

And this time he did pay attention. His bright blue eyes met her brown ones, with more than a little surprise in them.

The smile had disappeared from his face, replaced by a straight line. ‘If you say so,’ he murmured.

* * *

It only took an hour or so to familiarise Gemma with the practice systems and introduce her to the two other GPs who worked at the surgery. She seemed to pick things up quickly, only asking a few pertinent questions then going round and introducing herself to the rest of the staff.

The working-hours negotiations were a little more fraught. He’d hoped she’d be a bit more flexible. She needed to cover three days within the practice, but it would have worked out better if she could have worked some mornings and afternoons and actually done her hours over five days.

But Gemma Halliday was an immovable force. She was adamant that three full days was all she could do. No extra surgeries at all. Her time was to be spent with Isla.

They walked over to the Angel Grace Hospital. It was a nice day and the brisk walk did them both good.

‘I’m hoping you’re happy to see everyone who comes into the practice.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be? Isn’t that what GPs do?’ He should have asked her if she had a jacket. The breeze was rippling her pale pink shirt against her breasts, and the unbuttoned collar was flapping in the wind. Boy, she could be prickly.

‘I just thought you might request to see only the kids.’

She shrugged and shook her head. ‘Not at all. Happy to see anyone. If the other partners want me to see more than my share of kids, that’s fine too. Obviously, they’re my specialty. But that doesn’t mean I won’t see other patients.’

‘Good. That’s good.’

‘How much antenatal care do you have?’

He shook his head. ‘Minimal. We have around twenty-five to thirty-five births a year on the island. Our midwife, Edith, generally does all the antenatal care. It’s only if someone is a complicated case that we become involved.’

‘Do the mothers deliver here?’

‘Most deliver on the mainland. Last year we had six home births. All planned with military precision by Edith. A few more requested them, but Edith and the obstetric consultant deemed them too risky. When we have plans for a home birth, both midwives on the island have to be on call. It can get a little complicated.’

They reached the door of the hospital and Logan held it open for her. ‘So what happens in an emergency situation—for anyone, not just maternity cases—and we need to transport someone quickly?’

He led her down one of the corridors of the hospital. ‘That’s when we call in the emergency helicopter from the naval base at Prestwick. Surgical emergencies, unstable head injuries and maternity emergencies would get transported that way. Ayrshire General Hospital is only about ten minutes away once the helicopter gets in the air.’

He opened another door. ‘We do have a theatre that can be used in emergencies, but it’s a bit basic. This is mostly used for minor procedures.’

She looked around the single theatre. She’d already noticed that the hospital was an older building, probably left over from the war. ‘Do you have a lot of emergencies that require the helicopter?’ Even the thought of the helicopter made her nervous.

‘We had ten last year. They are search-and-rescue helicopters. There are three of them and they normally get scrambled every day. They cover a huge area—twelve times the size of Wales—and we only call them out if absolutely necessary. We’ve transported stable patients on the main island ferry before, or we occasionally run a private boat if the ferries schedules are unsuitable, and transport patients to the mainland where we have an ambulance waiting.’

They walked further along the corridor. ‘Oh, and there’s also the hyperbaric chamber over on the Isle of Cumbrae—Millport. It’s one of only four in Scotland and used for anyone with decompression sickness.’

‘You deal with that around here?’ She shook her head. She hadn’t even considered anything like th

at. And she didn’t know the first thing about decompression sickness.

He nodded slowly. ‘It would surprise you, but we have a lot of diving in and around the island, and along the Scottish coast. But don’t worry, there’s an on-call hyperbaric consultant at Aberdeen Hospital. He’s the expert in all these things.’

They continued along the corridor and Gemma tried not to let the panic on her face show. She really hadn’t realised the realm of expertise that would be required to work in an island community. At this rate she was going to have to go back into student mode and start studying again. They’d reached the single ward in the hospital. Logan pointed through the glass.

‘Sixteen beds, with patients that we normally reassess on a daily basis. It’s kind of like a mix between a medical ward and an elderly care ward. Lots of chest conditions and confusion due to low oxygen saturation. We have good permanent nursing staff that are more than capable of dealing with any emergency. They re-site drips, give IV antibiotics and other meds, order X-rays and can intubate during an arrest.’ He pointed down the corridor.

‘There are also a few side rooms if required and an A and E department that is chaotic during the summer.’

Gemma’s eyes widened a little. ‘How is that staffed?’ His stomach curled a little. This woman could practically see things coming from a million miles away.

‘It has its own doctor, a couple of nurse practitioners and some regular nursing staff.’ He pointed to a rota on the wall. ‘If the A and E doctor isn’t busy, he would deal with any issue with the ward patients. If not, we get called out.’ He could tell from the expression on her face that she was worried. ‘Don’t worry, it doesn’t happen too often.’

She nodded slowly. ‘I knew there would be occasional callouts because I was covering one day a week for the GP practice. I guess I’ll just need to bring Isla with me.’

Darn it. He hadn’t considered her little girl when he’d persuaded her to work three days a week in the GP practice for the next six weeks. Her job as a paediatric consultant two days a week wouldn’t have included any on-call services. He’d only been thinking of the needs of the practice, not the needs of a single parent and her five-year-old daughter. With one step he’d just trebled her chances of being called out.