moved back around the desk and leaned over her shoulder. ‘“Roo-ah-ree”, I think.’ He winked. ‘At least try and get the guy’s name right.’
She stared at the scribbled notes in the folder. Rhuaridh Gillespie. General Practitioner. Also provides cover to Arran Community Hospital and A and E department.
How did that even work?
She swallowed and took a deep breath. How bad could this be?
‘How much preparation time do I have?’
There was a glint in Louie’s eyes as he threw something across the desk at her. Flight details.
‘A day,’ he answered.
‘A day?’ She stood up as she said the words. ‘What do you mean, a day?’
Louie just started talking as if there was nothing unusual at all about what he’d just said. ‘You fly into Glasgow, car hire has been arranged—you need to drive to a place called Ardrossan to catch the ferry to Arran. The crossing takes about an hour but...’ he paused as he glanced at some notes in front of him ‘...apparently can be hampered by the weather. So build in some extra time.’
Her brain had gone directly into overdrive. Clothes. Equipment. What was the weather like on Arran this time of year? This was the UK, not the US. She needed to learn a bit more about their healthcare system. And what about this guy? Under normal circumstances she’d take a few days to do some background research on him—to learn what kind of a person he was—what made him tick. Anything that would give her a head start.
She shook her head. Then realised she hadn’t asked one of the most important questions. ‘Who is my cameraman?’
Louie gave a little cough that he tried to disguise as clearing his throat. ‘Gerry.’
‘Gerry?’ She couldn’t hide her dismay. ‘Louie, he’s about a hundred and five! He doesn’t keep up well, his timekeeping is awful, and he always leaves half his equipment behind.’
Louie gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘Give the guy a break. He needs the work. And anyway, he knows you better than most.’
She bit her lip as she picked up her bag. Maybe she was being unreasonable. He did know her better than most—he’d been there with her and Louie when she’d got that terrible call. But last time she’d worked with Gerry he’d left her sitting in the middle of a baking desert in Arizona for three hours.
‘I swear if he isn’t at the airport when I get there, I’m leaving without him.’
Louie waved his hand. ‘Whatever.’ Louie picked up his phone as she headed to the door. ‘And, Kristie?’
She spun back around. ‘Yeah?’
He grinned. ‘Who knows—you might enjoy this.’
She didn’t hesitate. She picked up a cushion from the chair nearest the door and launched it at Louie’s head.
May
THERE WAS NO way that this amount of vomiting could be normal. Maybe it was something she’d eaten on the flight between Los Angeles and London? The chicken had looked okay. But then she’d had that really huge brownie at Heathrow Airport before the departure to Glasgow.
She groaned as her stomach lurched again and the roll of the waves threw her off balance. They weren’t even out at sea any more, they were in the middle of docking at the harbour in Brodick, Arran.
‘First-timer, eh?’ said a woman with a well-worn face as she walked towards the gangway.
Kristie couldn’t even answer.
Gerry gave her a nudge. ‘Come on, they’ve already made two announcements telling drivers to get back into their cars. Do you want me to drive instead?’
She shook her head and took another glug of water from the bottle he’d bought her. Poor Gerry. He’d spent half of this ferry journey holding the hair from her face so she could be sick. He was more than double her age, but seemed to have weathered the journey much better than she had—even if he had twice tried to get into the car on the wrong side.
She gave him a half-hearted smile. ‘Next time we get on a flight together I’ll have what you’re having.’ He’d popped some kind of tablet as soon as they’d boarded the flight in Los Angeles and had slept until the wheels had set down at Heathrow.
He returned a smile. ‘What can I say? Years of experience.’
She watched him shuffling down the stairs in front of her to the car deck. The boat’s bow was already opening, preparing for the cars to unload. Kristie ignored a few pointed glares as she made her way to their hire car and tried to squeeze back inside.
The cars in front had already moved by the time she’d started the unfamiliar vehicle and tried to remember what to do with the pedals and the gearstick.
She jumped as there was a loud blast of a horn behind her. She muttered an expletive under her breath as she started the car and promptly stalled it. The car juddered and heat rushed into her cheeks. ‘Why is everything on the wrong side?’
Gerry chuckled. ‘Just watch out for the roundabouts.’
She bit her bottom lip as she started the car again. The roundabout at Glasgow airport had been like an episode of the Wacky Races. The whole wrong-side-of-the-road aspect had totally frazzled her brain and she was sure at one point her life had flashed before her eyes.
‘Arran isn’t that big,’ she muttered. ‘Maybe they don’t need roundabouts. Crazy things anyway. Who invented them? What’s wrong with straight roads?’
Gerry laughed as they finally rolled off the ferry and joined the queue of traffic heading towards a road junction.
‘Which way?’ she asked.
‘Left,’ he said quickly. ‘The doctor’s surgery and hospital are in a place called Lamlash. It’s only a few miles up the road.’
Gerry settled back in his seat as they pulled out onto the main road. The sun was low in the sky and all around them they could see green on one side and sea on the other.
‘I think I’m going to like this place,’ he said with a smile, folding his hands in his lap.
Kristie blinked. Although there were a number of people around the ferry terminal, as soon as they moved further away the crowds and traffic seemed to disperse quickly. There was a cluster of shops, pubs and a few hotels scattered along what appeared to be the main street of the Scottish town, but in a few moments the main street had disappeared, only to be replaced with a winding coastal country road.
‘I’ve never seen so much green,’ she said, trying to keep her eyes fixed on the road rather than the extensive scenery.
Gerry laughed. ‘You don’t get out of Los Angeles often enough. Too much dry
