past life clashing with his present. He concentrated hard on being steady and not limping in front of her, because for some reason it mattered that she saw him as whole. ‘Right, then, so this is Lachie? Come on through.’
Good karma? No chance. Judging by the way Sophie was looking at him, the good karma fairy had gone on her lunch break.
* * *
Finn.
Wow.
Sophie put her hand to her mouth and followed him into the examination room. Tried to act calm while her heart hammered against her chest wall. So many questions.
Finn. She hadn’t even known his surname. Geez. It was on his badge. Finn Baird. That information would have been immensely useful a few years ago.
Wow. Here he was, after all this time. After everything. She gaped at him, wanting to rail at him, to put her fists on his chest and pound. Hard. Wanted to ask him where the hell he’d been and what the hell he’d been doing. But she did none of that and instead she smiled, fussed around her son and pretended being here with the man who’d no doubt forgotten her the moment she’d left the hotel room was no big deal at all.
The most important person in the room was Lachie, so both she and Finn needed to rise above any failed promises from a long time ago. ‘This is Lachie. He’s eighteen months old. He’s got bilateral talipes. He’s been treated with the Ponseti method and now we’re just keeping the feet straight with boots and bars at night.’ She paused and tried not to sound as rattled as she felt. ‘Thanks for fitting us in. I’m sorry we missed our appointment with Ross.’
‘He’s got a meeting across town, otherwise I’m sure he’d have waited for you.’ Oh. Okay. So no chance of a reprieve, then.
Finn lifted his eyes from Lachie’s notes and met her gaze. She couldn’t tell in those Celtic blue irises what the hell was going on in his head, but she knew by the complete lack of concern in his demeanour that he had no idea. No idea at all.
‘So this is his routine check-up? How’s he doing with the boots and bars?’
‘Not well, I’m afraid. He’s pretty grumpy about it all.’ She picked her son up and popped him on the examination couch and tickled him. Pretty much guaranteed to bring a smile to his face. Because right now she couldn’t cope with another tantrum. Right now she wanted to rewind the clock to this morning, have a different start to the day and make her appointment with the other physiotherapist on time. ‘Grumpy, aren’t you? Mr Monster?’
Her boy threw his head back and giggled. It was such a delicious sound and always made her world a lot better when she heard it. She looked over and saw Finn watching her. Was he doing the maths?
Her heart contracted in a swift and urgent need to protect her boy. She put her arms around him and held him close. But Finn seemed completely oblivious to what was right in front of his face. ‘You’re still working, Sophie? I heard you say something about it at Reception. A nurse—that’s right?’
So he’d remembered that at least. Had he remembered anything else? How right it had felt? How crazy it had been to find someone who got you in a city the size of Edinburgh, a country the size of Scotland? That was what she’d thought then. Now she could only think of curse words. She bit them back. ‘Yes. I’m a Health Visitor now, though. I work out of Campbell Street clinic.’
‘Ah. A nine-to-five gig?’
‘More like eight until eight most days. But yes.’
‘You like it?’
What did it matter to him? What did any of her life matter to him?
It was hard to believe she was here having a conversation about minor stuff instead of the conversation they should have been having. But not here, not in front of Lachie. ‘I don’t want to take up more of your time than I should. Let’s get on, shall we? It’s all in the notes but I’ll précis for you. It’ll be quicker. Lachie had eight castings to make his feet straight and a tenotomy to loosen the heel cords, which hurt but he tolerated. He wears the boots and bars only at night-time and for his afternoon naps now. I try to make sure he has them on close to twelve hours a day.’ She took the offending plastic boots out of her bag and gave them to Finn. ‘He hates them.’
Finn’s eyes widened but he nodded. If he was rattled by her he didn’t show it, at least not to Lachie. For that she was grateful. Finn grinned down at the boy. ‘So, Mr Monster, eh? Cool name, buddy. The rest of us get stuck with boring ones like Finn. That’s me. Finn.’ He stuck his hand out towards Lachie, who was staring up at him with his wide—Celtic blue—eyes. ‘You want to shake hands? No? How about a high five? That’s right, my man. High. Low...’ Finn brought his hand up high then down low then right back to meet Lachie’s little palm. ‘Ah, you got me. You’re too quick.’ He looked down at Lachie’s feet and asked, ‘Is it okay if I look at your feet? Can you take your trainers off? Atta boy.’
Sophie’s heart was bursting with pride as she watched Lachie rip the Velcro on his trainers with a huge grin. Then even more as he hit them on the examination trolley until they flashed. ‘Flash.’
‘Whoa.’ Finn raised his palms and looked very impressed. ‘This is superhero territory.’
He leaned his hips against the couch and stamped his right foot. Then wobbled minutely and grabbed the gurney, glancing for the tiniest of moments over to Sophie and then back at Lachie. Which was a little strange.
Was he checking if she’d seen him wobble? Or just checking if she was watching his examination? Some health professionals were spooked if they had to treat other medics, in case they were being judged.
Finn shrugged. ‘See? Mine don’t flash at all. I need a pair of those. If only you could wear the flashing ones at night instead, eh? But they are for daytime adventures and these...’ he picked up the clinical plastic boots and showed them to Lachie ‘...these are for night-time adventures. I know, I know you don’t like them but they’ll give you even more superhero powers if you keep them on. Right, let’s have a look at those toes. Ten? You have ten toes? Excellent. I won’t tickle, I promise. Well, not if you don’t want me to.’
‘Can you see the redness?’ She knew she was starting to sound rude but being in here was suffocating. The pride in her son mingled with sadness and anger in Sophie’s chest. Finn should have called as he’d said he would. He should have damned well called. She tried to hurry him up. ‘There, at the back of the heel.’
‘Well, the feet are nice and straight so that’s good. But yes, there is some redness. The boots seem to be the right size. Have you tried putting Vaseline in? That helps.’
‘Yes. But he’s so wriggly when I put them on it’s like a game of Twister, all arms and legs. I think he’s scraping his heels against the plastic when he tries to scramble his feet out while I try to squeeze them in.’
Finn nodded. ‘Yes, it’s a common problem. I’ll give you some second skin plasters; they should help. It’s often easier to have someone else around to give you a hand putting the boots on at bedtime. Either that or become an octopus.’
‘An octopus?’
‘Eight arms.’ He grinned at his little joke.
She didn’t. ‘Well, we’ll just have to manage
