Summer Fling: A Bride for Glenmore. Sarah Morgan
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Ethan took the parcel from her and followed her along the quay, watching the way everyone converged on her.
‘Kyla.’ An elderly woman crossed the street to speak to her. ‘I read that leaflet you gave me about strengthening your bones …’
‘Glad to hear it, Mrs Porter.’ She paused, her smile friendly. ‘All OK?’
‘Oh, yes. It advised you to walk more and lift weights. I’m a bit too old for the gym, so I filled some empty milk bottles with water and I’ve been using those.’
‘Great idea. Well, if you have any questions you can find me in surgery and we can have a really good chat. And don’t forget to speak to Evanna about doing her exercise class.’
She walked on a bit further before she was stopped by one of the fishermen who was untangling his net. ‘Nurse MacNeil—I need to have those stitches of mine taken out.’
‘How’s the leg feeling?’
‘Sore.’
She nodded. ‘It was a nasty cut. You need to keep it up when you’re resting. Pop in on Friday and I’ll take the stitches out and take another look at it. If you need antibiotics, I can have a word with Logan.’
She walked on, somehow managing to acknowledge everyone’s greeting in a friendly manner while avoiding lengthy conversation.
Ethan watched in silent admiration, trying to imagine something similar happening in London and failing. In London everyone kept their eyes forward and went about their own business. ‘You know everyone.’
‘This is an island, Dr Walker. Everyone knows everyone.’ She scraped her unruly hair out of her eyes and lifted an eyebrow in his direction. ‘Is that going to be a problem for you?’
‘Why would it be?’
Her glance was assessing. ‘You’re a city boy and the one thing that you can guarantee in a big, soulless city is anonymity. And that suits some people. Not everyone wants folks knowing their business.’
A city boy.
Ethan thought about the places he’d worked in, the dust, the heat and the sheer weight of human suffering. She had no idea. Oh, yes, he’d experienced anonymity. The sort where you shouted and no one listened.
Kyla lengthened her stride, nodded to an elderly woman who passed and then paused to stroke a baby who was cooing in a pushchair. ‘Can’t believe he’s two months now, Alice. Make sure you remember to bring him to clinic for his injections.’ They moved on and Ethan watched as she pulled a set of keys out of her jacket pocket.
‘Anonymity is one thing but time off is another. How do you switch off and keep people at a distance?’
‘On the whole people are pretty good about not invading our privacy. If I’m wearing lipstick and heels and have a drink in my hand, they know better than to expect me to discuss their haemorrhoids.’ She juggled the keys in her hand. ‘But it’s definitely a close community and that can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on the person you are or what you happen to be doing at the time. If you’re not careful you can find yourself doing impromptu consultations on every street corner. Not that I mind in some cases, but generally speaking I want to feel I have a life outside work. We need to get a move on. The surgery is ten minutes’ drive from here, in the village.’
He glanced around him. ‘This isn’t the village?’
‘No, Dr Walker. This is the quay. People live dotted all over the place, which makes it a laugh a minute when you have an urgent house call, as you will soon discover.’ She stopped by a tiny car in a deep shade of purple. ‘Hop in. We’ll go to the surgery and I’ll introduce you to my brother and then I’ll drop you at your cottage before I go back to my clinic.’
‘This is your car?’ He glanced at it in disbelief and she scowled at him across the top of the car, the expression in her blue eyes suddenly dangerous.
‘If you’re thinking of making a derogatory remark about the colour, then I advise against it. I happen to be very attached to my car. And so should you be, Dr Walker, because if it weren’t for my car, you’d be walking up that hill with your luggage as we speak.’
Even on such a short acquaintance, he could see that she was a woman with a warm heart and a fiery temper. The combination was intriguing. For the first time in months he found himself fighting the desire to smile. ‘Would you believe me if I told you that lurid purple is my favourite colour?’
‘Very funny.’ She glared at him for a moment and then grinned. ‘All right, I’ll be honest. I got it at a knockdown price from the mainland. Apparently no one else liked the colour.’
‘You astonish me.’
‘Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Dr Walker. The boot’s open if you want to get rid of that suitcase.’ She slid into the driver’s seat and he somehow jammed his suitcase into the tiny boot and then climbed in next to her, wincing as he tried to fold his six foot three frame into the tiny vehicle.
‘It may be an awful colour,’ he muttered, easing the door shut, ‘but at least it’s roomy.’
‘Are you being rude about my car?’ She glanced towards him and burst out laughing. ‘You look ridiculous.’
‘It’s the car that’s ridiculous.’
‘The car is fine, but you’re too big for it.’
Ethan winced and tried to ease his legs into a more comfortable position. ‘I’m aware of that fact.’ He shifted down in the seat to give himself more head room and found his knees under his chin. ‘Well, this is comfortable. Drive on. Wherever we’re going, we’d better get there quickly or I’ll need physiotherapy at the end of the journey and I don’t suppose that’s available on an island this remote.’
‘Don’t you believe it. Glenmore may be remote but we’ve a thriving population here. Physio is Evanna’s division. Especially massage. She’s great with crying babies and pretty good with moaning adults, too.’ She started the engine, checked her rear-view mirror and started up the coast road at a frightening pace.
‘Evanna?’ Ethan wondered how a car so small could go so fast. ‘I heard you mention her to the lady who spoke to you back on the quay. She’s the other practice nurse?’
‘That’s right. We each have different responsibilities. Evanna is a midwife as well as a practice nurse and she’s had some basic physio training. We all do a bit of everything if we can. It saves folks travelling all the way to the mainland.’
To one side of him the coast flashed past and he had a glimpse of rocky coves and sandy beaches. The island had a dramatic history, he recalled, with a good number of wrecks littering the seabed. He stared out to sea, his mind wandering. There were so many questions he wanted to ask but to do so would reveal too much so instead he turned back to look at her, studying her profile. From this angle he could see that her nose turned up slightly and that her eyelashes were long and thick. She had a sweet face, he decided. A happy face. There were no lines. No shadows. Nothing to suggest that life had sent her anything that she couldn’t handle.