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‘That mum? What did you do for her?’
He looked a little surprised by her question but gestured for her to close the door. ‘Sit down,’ he said.
She took a deep breath and sat down on the chair next to him. ‘I talked to her,’ he said quietly.
‘That’s it?’ She couldn’t hide how taken aback she felt.
‘And I listened,’ he added.
‘But her questionnaire...’ she began.
He held up his hand. ‘Her questionnaire is just a little bit of her. It’s a snapshot in time. I listened. I listened to how she was feeling and talked to her and let her know that some of this is normal for a new mum. She’s beyond tired. She hasn’t had a full night’s sleep in two years. How do you think that would impact on anyone’s mental health?’
‘But you let her leave...’ Her voice trailed off, as her mind jumped ahead.
‘I let her leave with an assurance of some support systems in place. While she was here, she phoned her sister and asked her to take the kids overnight. She’s coming back to see me again tomorrow and we’ll talk again.’
‘Oh.’ Kristie sagged into the chair a little. Her stomach still churned.
There was so much here that was tumbling around in her brain. She knew that most of the thoughts she was having weren’t rational—they were all tinged by her own experience. That desperate sense of panic.
She took a few breaths and tried to put her counselling head on. The one she used three nights a month. Rhuaridh had taken time to talk to the mother and acknowledge her feelings—usually the single most important act someone could do. Then he’d arranged follow up and support. Just like she would hope and expect from a health professional.
Rhuaridh leaned forward and put his hand over hers. ‘Kristie, is everything all right?’
And for the first time in her life she wasn’t quite sure how to answer. Should she tell him? Should she let him know she worked as a counsellor and what she’d been through herself?
Her mouth was dry. He was looking at her with those bright blue eyes—staring right at her as though he could see right down to her very soul. To all the things she kept locked away tight. Part of her wanted to tell him. Part of her wanted to share.
But something was stopping her. Something wouldn’t let her open her mouth and say those words. So before she could think about it any longer, she got up and rushed out.
CHAPTER FIVE
September
‘YOU’VE NEVER WATCHED?’
Rhuaridh shook his head as Magda cradled baby Alice. She gave him a curious smile. ‘I can’t believe it. You should. I have to admit, I’m almost a little jealous.’
‘Of what?’
He was drinking a large cup of coffee while he compared a few notes with her on a few of their chronically ill patients. On Arran, a doctor would never really be off duty, and Magda was far too nosy not to want to discuss some of their long-term cases.
‘Of you.’ She waved one hand while she fixed her gaze back on her fair-haired daughter while she screwed up her nose and gave a sigh. ‘But no. If I’d been in the show that wouldn’t have worked anyway.’
Rhuaridh put down his cup and held out his hands. ‘Give me my goddaughter and tell me what on earth you’re talking about.’
Magda stood up and put Alice into his arms, before settling back and putting her feet up on the sofa. ‘It’s all about the chemistry.’
‘Chemistry? I thought you didn’t like chemistry. You always complained about it when we were students.’
She shook her head and looked at him as if he was completely dumb. ‘Not school chemistry. Chemistry. You know...between a man and a woman. Phew! If I need to teach you about the birds and bees I’m going to question whether you should be working as a doctor.’
He shifted in the chair, realising where this was going to go. He shook his head and Alice wrinkled her face. He stopped moving. He knew who was in charge here.
He spoke quietly. ‘I’ve no interest in watching myself on TV. I know everything that’s happened—not all of which I’m entirely proud of.’
She gave a sigh. ‘You know. They edit things. And they’ve edited the show for the drama. To be honest, I’m surprised we’ve not got women heading to Arran by the boatload.’ She raised one eyebrow. ‘They always seem to catch your good side.’
