A Doctor To Heal Her Heart

Euan wondered whether she wanted some company, and decided that he didn’t. Which didn’t mean he couldn’t watch her for a few more moments. Her head jerked suddenly and she reached for her bag, checking the display on her phone before answering it.

It was probably David. Euan wondered what his partner’s reaction would have been if he could have seen the way she absently pulled the clips from her hair as she talked, shaking her head slightly to let the breeze style it around her shoulders in a mass of shining, dark strands.

She was looking at her phone now, as if she was checking back on the conversation she’d just had. Then, laying it on the table beside her, she punched the air in a motion that shouted of both joy and accomplishment.

Euan found himself smiling as he watched her jump to her feet, clearly apologising to a waiter, who she’d almost caught with her flailing arm. A laughing exchange and she accepted a coffee cup from him then pointed to the menu.

It was impossible not to wait and watch her sit down, hug herself and take a few sips from her cup. When the waiter returned, Euan smiled. An ice-cream sundae, which looked as if she’d ordered all the trimmings with it, and which she received with obvious joy and tucked into straight away.

Maybe she’d fit in at the clinic a little better than he’d thought. He turned away from the sea, heading for the bank by the more direct route, turning that thought over gently in his mind.

CHAPTER TWO

HIS SECOND IMPRESSION of Sam was just as baffling as the first. Euan had hardly recognised her when she banged on the door of the Driftwood Initiative’s offices at eight-thirty the following Saturday morning. The weak sunshine was diluted by clouds, but in what looked like overkill her eyes were shaded by both sunglasses and the peak of a cap. If she’d turned up at the clinic looking like that, he might have wondered what they concealed.

She nodded a hello, took the hat off and stuffed it into the pocket of her cargo pants. Without high heels, her face clean of make-up and her hair caught in a plait that snaked over her shoulder and tangled with the strap of her courier bag, she seemed younger, more fragile. Her green leather jacket wasn’t too battered, but it wasn’t too new either, and scuffed on one shoulder, as if she’d been in the habit of leaning in doorways.

‘I hope I’m not too early.’

The remark might have been construed as condescending, given that she’d travelled down from London this morning and Euan lived ten minutes’ walk away. There was nothing in her face that betrayed anything other than a straightforward question, but Euan still couldn’t see her eyes.

‘No.’ He indicated the mug in his hand. ‘Just in time for coffee.’

‘Good.’ She picked up the soft travelling bag at her feet and he stood back from the door, locking it shut behind her.

‘Let me take that.’ He gestured towards her bag and she hesitated, giving it to him with an air of slight suspicion, as if she thought he was about to run off with it.

‘Would you like to see the bedsit upstairs? It’s not very big...’ Euan decided to concentrate on the practicalities first.

‘That’s fine. All I need is a bed and a bathroom.’ She seemed different as well as looking different. The assured businesswoman had disappeared completely, as if she’d sloughed that identity off along with the red suit.

He motioned her up the stairs, careful not to touch her as he squeezed past her in the small space outside David’s office and opened the door to the narrow, dark staircase that led to the loft apartment. The smell of disinfectant drifted down the stairs, and then the subtler scent of freshly washed linen.

‘This is great.’ She glanced into the cubbyhole that boasted two easy chairs and a small coffee table and made her way straight through to the slightly larger area, which contained a bed and the smallest wardrobe known to man. Euan dumped her bag onto the bed and she sat down next to it, bouncing up and down slightly. ‘Good mattress. That’s all I need.’

Her smile seemed genuine enough, but it had done the last time they’d met. ‘Is this okay for the clinic?’ She spread her arms, looking down at her costume. That was what it seemed like, a consummate actress wearing a costume for a part. ‘David told me not to dress up, so I came as I am.’

‘This is how you are?’ The question seemed a bit forward, but it slipped out before Euan had a chance to stop it.

‘Yes.’ She grinned, finally taking off the sunglasses. Her grey eyes were the same, at any rate. Thoughtful and clear, almost luminous, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen on a woman. ‘I’m a code-hacker at heart.’

Her smile was still infectious too, and before he knew what he was doing Euan had smiled back. ‘And this is what a code-hacker looks like?’

She shrugged. ‘Well, the stereotype has a couple of days’ worth of stubble on his chin and wears T-shirts with nerdy computer jokes printed on the front. That’s not a good look for me.’

Euan sighed. She was like a Russian doll. Every time you thought you’d got to the real Sam, there was another underneath, exquisitely painted and quite different. Bringing a woman that he couldn’t fathom, who had admitted to nameless personal reasons, into the delicately balanced community of the clinic suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea.

‘I’ll...’ He’d intended to take her with him this morning, but instinct had just changed his plans. He needed to think, and he didn’t seem to be able to do that with any clarity when Sam was around. Perhaps because she smelled so nice. ‘I’ve got to get going in half an hour, I’ve a surgery at the clinic this morning.’

‘Saturday morning?’

‘The weekends are often our busiest times. People who are working can only make evenings and weekends.’

If he was looking for surprise in her face, he was disappointed. So many people reckoned that substance abusers automatically slept on other people’s floors, wore dirty clothes and had no prospect of a job. There was that element, of course, but Euan numbered a stockbroker and a couple of company directors among his clients as well.

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ She slipped out of her jacket, revealing a purple printed top made from some kind of gauzy material, which begged to be touched. ‘When can I join you?’

The little quirk of her mouth betrayed that she’d noticed that he’d sidelined her. He supposed he ought to feel guilty, after she’d got up early and come all the way here, but his clients came first. ‘Why don’t we meet up for lunch? David will be here in half an hour, and he’ll take you through the clinic procedures and tell you about the new residential centre we’re planning to open soon.’

She brightened, seeming to have put the rejection behind her, now that there was an alternative to occupy her. ‘That’s a good idea. Yes...it’ll be good to have an overview before I see how it all works in practice.’ A glimpse of the woman in the red suit. She looked at her watch. ‘Say...twelve-thirty? Is that convenient?’

* * *

His footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Sam heard the street door slam. She flopped down onto the bed, looking around her. The apartment was small, scrupulously clean and already warm from the sun. Sam wondered whether the dormer window above her head would open to afford some ventilation, and decided that her first task was to find something to climb up on so she could find out.

Here she was, then. She’d promised Sal that she would do this, and here was the first real step towards making it a reality. Two years’ work and a load of false leads from people who’d pretended to be interested in her software just so they could say they’d explored all the options.

‘We’ll be on top of the heap by Christmas...’ The old joke made her smile and set a tear worrying at the side of her eye, all at the same time. Whatever the time of year, and however unlikely the prospect, Sally had always marked their triumphs with tubs of ice cream and that toast to the future. One Christmas they’d actually found themselves on the top of the heap. At least Sal had lived to see that.

Sam shook her head. It didn’t matter how alone she felt in this empty building, or that the familiar pain of rejection seemed to twist deeper when it came from Euan Scott. He could be as handsome as he liked and as difficult as he pleased. She had a goal to achieve, and no one was going to get in her way.

* * *

The quiet, deliberate nature of the morning’s work with David had settled her. He had offered to walk her down to the clinic, in much the same way as one offered to walk you into a lion’s cage, and Sam had smilingly refused, zipping her purse and her keys into her jacket and pocketing her phone. If Euan thought she couldn’t blend in, then she’d show him that melting into walls was her speciality.

The clinic was at the end of a row of small shops and offices in one of the streets that led from the shabbier end of the promenade. It didn’t advertise itself, and once inside the main door there was another set of doors straight ahead, almost as if you needed to pass through an airlock to get into the place. Sam noticed the discreetly placed surveillance cameras, and wondered who was watching her.

Whoever it was, they buzzed her in and she found herself in a large, bright area that boasted comfortable chairs, a reception desk and a mural that appeared to have been made from the fruits of a beachcombing expedition. Euan was on the far side of the room, deep in conversation with a young man in overalls, and didn’t look her way.

‘You must be Sam. I’m Liz. Welcome.’

The woman who greeted her was of medium height, medium age and had an extraordinary smile. She wore jeans and a flowery apron, carried a mole wrench and seemed preoccupied with whatever was going on through the doorway behind the reception desk.

‘Thank you. I’ve come to see Euan, but he looks pretty busy.’

‘He usually is...’ Sam followed Liz’s gaze over to the two men. Euan’s body language was relaxed but he was listening intently. ‘That’s my son he’s talking to. Jamie’s supposed to be mending the leak in the kitchen sink.’

‘But you’ve been left holding the spanner...?’

Liz laughed. ‘Exactly. Jamie’s got a bee in his bonnet and he needs to talk to Euan about it. Meanwhile, I’m holding back the flood.’

Euan was talking now. Animated, concentrated, he had a long-limbed grace about him, the look of someone who was comfortable in his own skin. Just watching him made the tiny hairs at the back of Sam’s neck shiver to attention.

‘What do you normally do here? Apart from plumbing?’ She dragged her wandering thoughts away from Euan.

‘I’m a volunteer. I spend two days a week on the reception desk and doing odd jobs. Whatever it takes.’

‘And Jamie...?’

‘Jamie’s the reason I’m here.’ Liz waggled her finger in her son’s direction. ‘This place saved his life.’

Sam couldn’t help but look back towards the two men. She’d read the statistics, pored over the reports, but this was different. Jamie was standing right there, and Euan had managed somehow to change the course of his life, where she had failed so conspicuously with Sally.

Questions flooded her mind, most of which she didn’t dare put into words. Sam reminded herself that she wasn’t here to get help, she was here to give it.

‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’

‘Isn’t that what you’re here for? David said you’d have plenty of questions.’

‘This isn’t really one of them. I was just wondering how Jamie is doing now.’

Liz laughed, her face lighting up. ‘He’s fine. Has his ups and downs, like everyone, but he’s on the right track. He’s working at his uncle’s building firm, and he’s gone back to college to get his qualifications.’

‘Good. I’m really glad to hear it.’

‘Thank you. It’s good to be able to say it...’ Liz broke off as the buzzer for the door sounded. She checked the screen behind the reception desk and released the lock. A small group of people entered, who Liz seemed to know, followed by a middle-aged couple who were looking around as if they were new here.

‘I’m sorry, I won’t be a moment. I think they’re here to see Euan. Why don’t you go and sit in the garden?’

‘I’ll sit here, if that’s okay.’ Sam gestured towards one of the chairs in the corner of the reception area.

‘Yes, of course.’ Liz walked over to the couple and started to talk to them, showing them to seats.

Euan was still talking, but he seemed to sense her gaze, as if it was something corporeal that had sauntered over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked round and for a delicious moment it was as though he and she were the only two people in the room. Then reality broke in.

He acknowledged the couple who had just arrived with the smile that Sam felt should, by rights, have been for her. ‘I’ll only be five minutes...’ Turning back to Jamie, he guided him through an open doorway to finish their conversation in private.

* * *

Euan had heard the door buzz, and knew that it must be Sam, but Jamie had caught him on the way to the door, and Liz had appeared from the kitchen to let her in. He caught a glimpse of her, just enough to want more, and then Jamie claimed his attention.

‘So what’s up?’

‘I went to see Kirsty the other day.’ Jamie was staring past him at a point somewhere behind his left shoulder. That was always a bad sign. ‘Took Mum with me, so her parents wouldn’t think I was a bad influence.’

‘And did they?’ Euan tried to catch Jamie’s eye, but failed.

‘Nope. Her mother cried and her dad shook my hand.’ Jamie’s shoulders squared a little.

‘So how does it feel to be a good influence?’

Jamie dismissed the idea with a shrug, his mind obviously on something else. ‘I just keep thinking. Kirsty’s always been careful...’

‘There’s no safe way to take cocaine, Jamie.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I know. All the same, there must be something different on the streets.’

There was. Euan had already heard some talk, and the results of the police tests on the remains of the white powder found on Kirsty had confirmed it. Cocaine that had a higher level of purity than usual was very bad news. Euan decided not to go into the details with Jamie.

‘I still know some people. I could ask around, find out what’s going on...’

‘You think that’s a good idea?’ Euan asked with concern.

‘I have to do something. Kirsty’s not going to be the same again, is she?’

‘Don’t write her off. She’s already made much better progress than I could have hoped, and she’s still in recovery. If you really want to do something for her, she needs all the friends she can get at the moment.’

‘And when it happens again I’ll just go and make friends with that person, shall I? My social life’s going to expand no end...’ Anger was radiating from Jamie’s tense frame.

‘The drug agencies and the police are working on it, mate. What you need to do is to concentrate on helping Kirsty and on helping yourself. Let them do their jobs.’

‘And if they don’t...’ Jamie’s fists clenched. ‘I can’t just sit around, doing nothing.’ A glimpse of the angry youth who had come so close to ruining his life.

‘There are no answers, Jamie. Life’s a problem. It’s supposed to hurt, and to make you angry and to keep you up nights, staring at the ceiling.’

Jamie puffed out a sigh. ‘And the trick is to stay clean for today.’

‘You said it.’

Something seemed to whisper across the back of his neck. The breeze as the entrance door opened, perhaps. When Euan looked round, he fell into the dizzying depths of Sam’s luminous, thoughtful eyes.

Dragging his gaze away to steady himself, he saw the middle-aged couple talking to Liz. If they were who he thought they were, they were an hour late, but they’d come a long way to see him. Even if he doubted that he could be of any help in finding their daughter, he had to at least try. He acknowledged the couple and drew Jamie to one side, away from the people who were straggling through the door for this afternoon’s group session.

‘Call me, Jamie.’

‘I don’t need to. It’s Kirsty we’re talking about here, not me.’

‘You sure about that?’

Jamie stared at him and then shrugged. ‘Kirsty’s a friend, and I didn’t see this coming. What kind of a person does that make me?’

It was a question that Euan had struggled with for years. He’d been too blind, too busy to see his own wife’s addiction. He knew all about the corrosive quality of that kind of guilt and Jamie deserved better than that.

‘It makes you human. You’ve been a good friend to Kirsty, but you can’t take responsibility for what she does. You’re not to blame for what happened to her.’

Jamie’s small, wordless nod was enough to tell Euan that he was thinking about it and that he shouldn’t press the point further. ‘I’m going to the hospital later. I’ll call you and let you know how she’s doing.’

‘Thanks. Are you going to be okay?’ He searched Jamie’s face for any sign that he was thinking of doing something stupid.

‘Yeah. Go and sort someone else out. I’m fine.’

‘We’ll talk later, then.’ He waited for Jamie’s nod and then let him go.

* * *

He found Sam in the kitchen, making tea, while Liz watched the entrance door and chatted to Mr and Mrs Pearson. When she turned her face towards him, it was full of expectation.

‘Want a cup of tea?’ There was a clear, unspoken addendum to that, he realised. Are you ready to give me some of the time you promised?

‘Sam, I’m sorry, but there are some people here to see me and it’s important...’

She nodded gravely. ‘Okay. I’ll wait. Do you want the tea?’

It seemed churlish to take the tea and then desert her again. But on the other hand he could do with it. ‘Um...if there’s a spare cup in the pot.’

‘There’s enough to go around.’ She opened the cupboard above her head and reached for another cup.

‘Thanks, Sam. I’ll be as quick as I can. Why don’t you go and sit in the garden?’ The clinic’s garden was a place to relax. She shouldn’t be having to help out, much less make the tea.

‘That’s okay. I may as well make myself useful.’ She wouldn’t meet his gaze, looking past him as Ian, the leader of this afternoon’s group session, appeared in the doorway.

‘Euan, can you see Pete? He’s got some nasty cuts and bruises, looks as if he’s been in a fight.’

‘What, again? When was that, last night?’

‘Yep. And he still doesn’t trust the hospital enough to go there...’

‘Okay, I’ll be up in a minute.’ Euan was uncomfortably aware that Sam was listening intently to the conversation.

‘Does your group usually have tea?’ She flashed a smile at Ian, leaving Euan out in the cold.

‘Yes—that would be great, thanks.’ Ian obviously thought that she was one of the new volunteers.

‘Sam, there’s no need—’

She cut him off in mid-sentence, concentrating on Ian. ‘How many cups?’

‘Six, thanks. Is there any ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet?’ Ian turned to Euan.

‘No, we’re out.’

‘That’s okay. I’ll pop to the chemist and get some.’ Sam was obviously going out of her way to be helpful. Euan reckoned she was probably making a point as well. There was nothing for it at the moment but to let her get on with it and hope that Liz would rein her in if she started to do anything inappropriate.

‘Bring the ibuprofen to me. All medicines have to be accounted for.’

Finally she looked at him. For all of two seconds. ‘Okay. That’s good to know.’ Then she turned, opening the cupboards in search of more cups.

He’d done what he had to do then retreated back into the quiet of his empty surgery. Sometimes it was the looks on the faces of the families that were the most heart-rending. Mr and Mrs Pearson had given him their contact details, thanked him and left. They were probably sitting in their car right now, trying to find the words to comfort each other.

Euan picked up the phone, staring at the picture on the desk in front of him. He could at least make a few calls on their behalf, in the hope that someone had seen their daughter, Ellie. Maybe she’d even make it through the doors here, but somehow he doubted it.

He spent a fruitless fifteen minutes on the phone, and then made a note to circulate Ellie’s details among the case workers and volunteers at the clinic. It was unlikely that any of them had seen her, but he’d promised the Pearsons that the Driftwood Clinic didn’t give up on anyone.

His own words came back to smack him squarely on the jaw. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d done with Sam this morning? A quiet knock interrupted his self-reproach, and Liz popped her head around the door.

‘I’m on my way down now,’ he said.

‘It’s okay. Sam’s in the garden with Jamie. I gave them both lunch.’

At least someone had thought that she was probably hungry. ‘Liz, you’re a star. Thanks.’

‘That’s okay. You had to speak to those poor people.’ Liz’s face was strained with the knowledge that she could so easily have been in their shoes a few years ago. ‘Can you give them twenty minutes before you come, though? Sam’s just showing Jamie how to set up a blog for himself.’

Euan stood, craning his neck towards the window. They were sitting on a bench at the end of the garden in the shade of a massive tree, both focussed completely on their task. When she laughed, gesturing to make her point, he almost found himself envying Jamie. Which was stupid, because Jamie had only done what Euan had neglected to do, made her feel welcome and taken a bit of interest in what she did.

‘So Jamie’s decided to do it? That’s good.’ He smiled at Liz. ‘Why don’t you join them? I’ll go downstairs and keep an eye on Reception.’

‘No, that’s okay. They don’t need me to help. I don’t even understand what a blog is.’ Liz glanced in their direction with a hint of regret and then turned away resolutely.

Euan nodded, giving her a smile. Liz and Jamie had come a long way together, and Liz was only just learning to trust Jamie again. ‘I’ll bring you a cup of tea, then. Some of that ginger and honey stuff you like?’

* * *

Sam had seen Euan sitting on the steps that led out into the garden, and decided to stay put when Jamie left. If she didn’t pester him, just showed that she could fit in and be of some use, perhaps that would begin to erode whatever objection he obviously had to her being here.

She purposely didn’t watch as he strolled across the grass towards her. Didn’t look up from the screen when she felt the bench she was sitting on take his weight. ‘That was nice of you,’ he commented.

At last. Something. ‘It’s easy to do when you know how. Didn’t take long.’

‘So it wasn’t nice at all, then.’

She looked up and he was grinning. His smile sliced through all her resolutions to appear unconcerned about whether he noticed her or not.

‘Do you have time to talk to me now?’

‘That’s what I wanted to say...’ The flash of uncertainty in his light brown eyes only made him more difficult to resist.

‘If you don’t, that’s okay. Just being here is telling me a lot about how the clinic operates...’ She broke off as he held his right hand out. ‘What?’

‘Can we start again?’ he asked.

She reached out tentatively.

‘Don’t look so suspicious. I’m trying to apologise.’

‘So that’s what this is. I generally find that “I’m sorry” works pretty well.’ Sam’s fingers were almost touching his. Not quite. Not yet.

‘Fair enough. I’m sorry. You’ve made time for us, and I’ll make more time for you from now on.’

Why did that sound like he was propositioning her? The tips of her fingers were trembling. ‘You’ve got your doubts about this project, haven’t you?’

‘It’s important to us. David needs some of the weight lifted from his shoulders...’ He gave a rueful grin. ‘Yeah, I do. But I’m listening now, and I’m open to being convinced.’

That was enough for now. She grasped his hand and gave it a little shake, trying not to notice the way his fingers almost caressed hers.