again. Weren’t they still in the middle of the Firth of Clyde? Apparently not. She turned her head. They looked only moments from the island. She pulled her phone from her pocket. It was an unknown number and her signal had vanished. This was supposed to be the best network for the island but it looked as though the coverage wasn’t as good as she’d been promised.
Looked like she still had a lot to learn about Arran.
A loud passenger announcement made her curiosity around the phone call instantly vanish.
‘All passengers, please return to your vehicles prior to arrival in Brodick.’
‘That’s us, Mummy!’
Gemma smiled and took a last gulp of her tea. Isla’s hand automatically fitted inside her own and she gave it a little squeeze as they joined the queue to file down to the car deck.
Her little red car was packed to the rafters. There was barely room for her and Isla to scramble back inside and get their seat belts in place. The removal van was similarly packed and the costs of moving to an island had proved much more prohibitive than moving somewhere inland. As a result most of their clothes were squashed into the car around them, along with a large amount of Isla’s toys.
She tried to remember the directions that she’d been given as the cars slowly trundled off the ferry. It wasn’t too far between Brodick and Lamlash—the capital of the island and the place where they would be staying—and the journey was over in ten minutes.
It didn’t take long to find the house and her heart gave a little flutter when she saw it. Their new home.
Gemma spotted the removals van immediately. There were also a number of men, dressed in their uniforms of black T-shirts and matching trousers. They’d been ruthlessly efficient back in Glasgow, their removal expertise putting her to shame. Trouble was—right now, none of them were moving.
She pulled the car up outside the cottage and couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face and Isla squealed in excitement. ‘Is this it, Mummy?’
Gemma nodded and helped Isla from the car. The cottage was everything she’d hoped for—two bedrooms, a study and a small conservatory on the back. That, combined with a view over the Firth of Clyde, was more perfect than she could have imagined.
There were even little shutters at the windows. From the look of them they were only decorative and could do with a lick of paint. But they added to the character and she loved them immediately.
Before she could stop her, Isla had raced through the open front door.
Gemma gave her hair a shake, pleased to be out of the stuffy car on such a clammy day. One of the removals men approached her straight away. Her stomach was already jittery with nerves. ‘Something wrong, Frank?’
He nodded. ‘I think so.’ He pointed to the front door. There, sitting next to the steps, was a row of large paint tins. Gemma walked over for a closer look—pale yellow for Isla’s room, mocha for her own bedroom, magnolia for the hall and living room. There was a tightly wrapped parcel at the end of the row. She peeled back some of the wrapping to reveal the purple wallpaper she’d picked for the feature wall in her living room.
Her brow furrowed. ‘What’s all this doing here? I’d an arrangement with a local contractor to have painted and decorated for us before we got here.’
Frank shrugged. ‘He’s obviously bought the materials and intended to do it. Something must have happened.’
Gemma let out a sigh and walked into her cottage. There it was. That instant feeling.
It made her catch her breath.
People said that you made up your mind in the first thirty seconds when you viewed a house. And even though the deal was done Gemma knew immediately she’d made the right decision. She walked around. Some of her furniture and most of her boxes had already been put in some of the rooms.
She ran her finger along the wall. The place looked a little tired. If it had been decorated it would have been perfect. But she could live with it in its current state. If need be, she could do the painting herself.
Frank tapped her shoulder. ‘There’s another little issue.’ He pointed back outside.
Gemma followed him to find her brand-new purple sofa sitting in the driveway. ‘What’s wrong?’
He pointed to the doorway. ‘It’s too small. We can’t get it in.’
She spun around. ‘You’re joking, right?’
He shook his head. ‘Did you ask for the dimensions of the door before you bought it?’
She could feel the colour flare into her cheeks. Of course she hadn’t. She’d fallen in love with the colour immediately, and once she’d sat in it in the showroom her mind had been made up. Dimensions hadn’t even entered her brain. Not once. ‘Could we take the door off?’
He shook his head. ‘We’ve already tried that. It’s just too big.’
Just like she thought. Ruthlessly efficient. She’d half a mind to invite these removal contractors to work with her in one of the big hospitals in Glasgow to see what changes they would make. They would probably have the whole rambling hospital running seamlessly in a matter of days.
One of the other men approached. ‘I’ve checked the back window—the one that’s broken and boarded up. If we take out the window frame we might get it in there.’
‘I’ve got a broken window?’ She was trying not to let her chin dangle open. This was just getting better and better.
‘You didn’t know?’
She shook her head, her long strides taking her back into the house and following the pointing fingers to the window at the back of her living room. There were a few remnants of broken glass caught in the window frame, but someone had done a good job clearing up the floor and ensuring it was spotless. The carpet in this room had been slightly worn and damaged in the pictures she’d seen so she’d given instructions for it to be lifted. Her new carpet was currently rolled up inside the removal van, waiting to be fitted—another aspect of the efficient company.
She touched the edge of the window. ‘I knew nothing about this. I guess I’ll need to phone the estate agent.’ She sighed. ‘If taking the frame out is the only way to get the sofa in then just go ahead.’
Two other men appeared with the underlay and carpet, ready to fit it. One of them gave her a smile. ‘I take it you just want us to go ahead, lift the old carpet and get the new one laid?’
She gave a little nod. She’d have to worry about paint stains later. The removals company had covered just about every angle. It was just a pity the decorator hadn’t fulfilled his duties.
Her phone rang sharply and she pulled it out of her pocket.
‘Dr Halliday? Are you here yet?’ It was a deep voice and one she didn’t recognise.
‘That depends. What “here” do you mean? And who are you?’
‘Sorry. It’s Logan Scott. One of the GPs you’ll be working with. I needed to see if you could cover a shift.’
