style="font-size:15px;"> They stepped into a large waiting area. It was empty but looked...busy. Some of the chairs were higgledy-piggledy, magazines and a few kids’ toys were scattered around the tables and floor. She could see some tread marks on the carpet. This place had a well-used feel about it.
She glanced at her watch. There was no one at the reception desk. It was after six p.m. The sign on the door said that was closing time. ‘Hello?’ she ventured.
There was the slam of a door from somewhere and a tall ruffled, dark-haired man appeared from the back of the building. He had the oddest expression on his face. It looked almost pained.
‘Hi, sorry,’ he said. ‘Just seeing my pregnant colleague out.’ His eyes seemed to run up and down the two of them. ‘You must be the TV people.’
His accent was thick, almost lilting, and it actually took her a few seconds to tune in and process his words. A frown appeared on his forehead at the delay. ‘Rhuaridh Gillespie?’ He lifted his hand and pointed to his chest.
Oh, my goodness. She was going to have to concentrate hard—and she didn’t just mean because of the accent. He was so not what she expected. Instead of an old wrinkly guy, she had a lean, muscled guy with bright blue eyes and slightly too long tousled dark hair. He was wearing a light blue shirt and dress pants. And he didn’t look entirely pleased to see them.
Something sparked in her brain and she walked forward, holding her hand out, knowing exactly how dishevelled she looked after their long journey. ‘Kristie Nelson. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Roo—’ She stumbled a little. ‘Dr Gillespie,’ she said, praying that her signature smile would start working any moment soon.
For a while, that had kind of been her trademark. With her styled blonde locks, usually perfect makeup and ‘signature’ wide smile, there had been a time on local TV when she’d become almost popular. That had been the time she’d had oodles of confidence and thought her star was going to rise immensely and catapult her to fame and fortune. Instead, she’d fallen to the earth with a resounding bump.
He reached over and took her hand. It was a warm, solid grip. One that made her wonder if this guy worked out.
‘Like I said, Rhuaridh Gillespie.’ He leaned over and shook Gerry’s hand too.
‘Gerry Berkovich. Camera, lights, sounds and general dogsbody for the good-looking one.’ He nodded towards Kristie.
She slapped his arm. ‘As if!’
Dr Gillespie didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, he barely held in his sigh. He gestured towards the nearest office. ‘Come and have a seat. I’ve kind of been thrown in at the deep end here, so we’re going to have to come to an agreement about some boundaries.’
It was the edge to his tone. She shot a glance at Gerry, who raised one corner of his eyebrow just a little. This didn’t sound like the best start.
She swallowed and tried to ignore the fact she was tired, now hungry, and desperately wanted a shower and five minutes lying on a bed and staring up at a ceiling. She’d been travelling for twenty hours. She’d been in the company of other people for more than that. Sometimes she needed a bit of quiet—a bit of down time. And it didn’t look like it would happen anytime soon.
Rhuaridh showed them to seats in his office.
Kristie had dealt with lots of difficult situations over the last few years in TV and moved into autopilot mode. ‘I’m sure everything will be fine,’ she said smoothly. ‘Contracts have already been agreed—’
‘Not by me,’ he cut in sharply, ‘And not by my patients. In fact...’ he took a deep breath, lifting one hand and running it through his dark scraggy hair ‘... I’ll need to get my professional organisation to take a look at this contract to make sure no patient confidentially will be breached inadvertently.’
He was speaking. But she wasn’t really hearing. It was all just noise in her ears.
‘This was all looked at—all prepared beforehand.’ She could cut in too. As it went, she didn’t know a single thing about the show’s contracts because she’d had nothing to do with any of this. All she knew was she was on a schedule. She had three days to film enough stuff to get forty-one minutes of usable footage. Much harder than it sounded.
‘I’ve been thrown into this. I won’t do anything to compromise my patients, or my position here.’ His voice was jagged and impenetrable. She could see him building a solid wall in front of himself before her very eyes. Her very tired eyes.
She’d thought he’d looked kind of sexy earlier. If this guy could do a bit of charm, the ladies would love him. But it seemed that charm and Dr Gillespie didn’t go in the same sentence. ‘I’m sure that—’
He stood up sharply. ‘I won’t move on this.’
‘But we only have three days...’
Gerry gave a little cough. She turned sideways to look at him and he gave an almost invisible shake of his head.
‘I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I suggest you go and check into your accommodation and try and...’ he shot her a glance as if he was struggling to find the right words ‘...rest.’
He walked over to the door and opened it for them. This time he didn’t even meet her gaze. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
Kristie was feeling kind of dazed. Had she just been dismissed? She wanted to stand and argue with him. Who did this guy think he was? Arrogant so-and-so. She’d travelled twenty hours for this.
But it was almost as if Gerry read her mind. He grabbed hold of her elbow as he led her back to the car.
The sky had got darker again as thick grey clouds swept overhead, followed by the obligatory spots of rain.
She opened the car and slumped into the driver’s seat. Gerry started talking. ‘I can shoot some of the scenery. Get a shot of the exteriors, the roads, the surgery. Maybe we could get someone to show us around the—what did they call it in the file—cottage hospital? I could even get a few shots of the ferry docking and leaving.’
‘That will fill about five minutes of film when it’s all edited down,’ she groaned. She leaned forward and banged her head on the steering wheel. ‘Why didn’t I get the museum curator in Cairo? The person who is training to be an astronaut? Why did I have to get the grumpy Scottish doctor?’ She thumped her head again, just to make sure Gerry understood just how frustrated she was.
‘Kinda good looking, though,’ he said unexpectedly.
‘What?’ She sat back up and shot him a weird look.
‘I said, he’s kind of good looking. And that cross demeanour? I think some folks might like it.’
Kristie shook her head. ‘At this rate the whole first episode will have to be subtitled. Did you hear how fast he talks? And how thick that accent is?’
Gerry gave a slow appreciative nod as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘He’s practically got Highland warrior stamped on his forehead.’ He twisted towards her and tapped one finger on his chin, looking thoughtful. ‘Hey? What do you think your chances are of getting him in a kilt?’
It
