Although modern advances thankfully kept the condition under control with the restricted diet and amino acid supplement to ensure normal development, Iona was aware the news would have a great impact on the family. Every new mum wanted to believe her baby was perfect and to be told otherwise could be difficult to accept and overwhelming.
She took a gulp of tea before pouring the rest down the sink and gave the dishes a quick rinse. There wasn’t liable to be a spare minute today but she had one more thing to do before she could hit the road and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
Every time she had thought about Dr McColl since last night her blood had boiled, sure his intense dislike of the season was to spite her. She’d made no secret of her desire to make this Christmas one to remember but Fraser seemed determined to thwart those efforts at every turn.
Iona told herself it was this battle of wills that made her react so passionately when she thought of him and nothing to do with whatever frisson she’d imagined when he’d caught her in his arms yesterday. She was no longer the kind of woman who let common sense be overridden by such a romantic cliché. It would take more than being swept off her feet and a handsome face for her to fall for another dominant male. Her sense of self was now defined by her home and her job, not by some fool idea of romance, love and that non-existent fairy-tale ending.
With a deep breath and a sharp knock on the door, she entered Fraser’s room out of courtesy rather than a desire to see him for the first time today. In too much of a hurry to waste time on pleasantries, she didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her.
‘I thought I should give you the heads-up on one of your patients, Marie Gillen. Her baby has tested positive for phenylketonuria.’
There was a slight rise of Fraser’s eyebrows before surprise was overtaken by furious typing on the computer keyboard.
‘Is this something you’ve encountered before?’ he asked over the sound of the printer whizzing into life.
‘Not first hand.’ The discovery of rare conditions always brought a range of emotion to the fore, with sympathy for the family at the top of the list. As a medical professional, though, Iona became curious to learn as much as she could to pass on to the parents so they were equipped to deal with whatever challenges were thrown at them. It had to be the same for the GPs who would go on to treat these patients, probably for the rest of their lives.
‘Nor me.’ Fraser ripped out a handful of printed pages, stapled half together and passed them to Iona, keeping the remainder for himself.
‘I’m going to speak to the metabolic unit before I see Mrs Gillen. She’ll need a referral straight away.’ Since Marie and her newborn were Iona’s patients, she would be the one to oversee the initial handover to the hospital.
‘This is some basic info on PKU you can give to her. I’m sure you have it all in hand but it will do us all good to reacquaint ourselves with the challenges ahead.’ The way Fraser said it made it sound as though he expected her to make a home visit straight away when she’d intended to wait until she’d spoken to a consultant.
‘You know I’m on a half-day? I’m only here until lunchtime because I’m moving house today.’ Iona didn’t know if he was aware of her time off so she gave him the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t deliberately trying to antagonise her again.
‘You can see her first and put the rest of your appointments back. The family need to know and this kind of bombshell is best delivered in person.’ When Iona didn’t respond immediately, stunned that he was pulling rank on her, Fraser added, ‘You know this is a time-sensitive condition and we need to begin treatment as soon as possible.’
She knew he was right and if she hadn’t been so caught up in her moving plans she would have suggested the same. As the only midwife at the practice, she didn’t have anyone else to delegate to so the responsibility was solely hers to deliver the news to the family. That didn’t mean she couldn’t be irritated at losing her time off.
The slightest brush of his fingers against hers as he handed her the information started that prickling sensation beneath her skin she’d experienced for the first time last night when he’d held her in his arms just a fraction longer than necessary.
That spark of awareness in Fraser’s eyes said he’d felt it too but it only served to annoy Iona more. The GP who’d stolen Christmas was now dousing cold water on the plans for her afternoon off so she shouldn’t find anything remotely attractive about him.
‘I’m sorry for yesterday but, you know, we have to have a code of conduct in the workplace or all hell would break loose.’
She stared at him, unblinking, wondering if he was trying to justify nixing her time off by blaming her for making a move on him. Her cheeks burned all the more when she realised he was talking about her dalliance into interior decorating and she was the only one whose thoughts had strayed elsewhere.
‘It’s all sorted now. Don’t worry about it.’ Although Fraser deserved more flak over his over-the-top reaction to a few baubles, it would keep until she’d got over this bout of madness.
‘If you need an appointment for me to see Mrs Gillen, let me know and I’ll fit her into my schedule.’
There were a lot of things about Fraser that frustrated Iona no end but she couldn’t fault his devotion to his patients. Their mutual patients were a shared interest. Somehow that didn’t give her any more comfort. Iona greedily snatched at more reasons to dislike him to erase the memory of the tenderness she’d felt in his touch and the desire she’d seen in his eyes when he’d held her close.
In that brief moment she’d understood those defences she’d built up against this man were because she was afraid of liking him too much. She had enough physical and mental scars to be wary of any man, especially the bossy kind, but she worried even that mightn’t be enough to save her.
‘I’ll let you know. I guess moving day will just have to wait.’
Fraser nodded and with her last obligation here taken care of, Iona was able to make her escape from the claustrophobia of these four walls.
* * *
There was nothing akin to driving out on the open road, radio blasting and singing along at the top of your voice where no one could hear. Iona loved her job. Sure, it was challenging, the hours long with no discernible time for breaks, but it was rewarding. Not only did she get to accompany these women throughout their pregnancies and sometimes get to welcome their babies into the world herself, she was able to enjoy her independence on a daily basis.
She was free to drive out here in the beautiful Scottish countryside, often travelling for miles between each of her appointments. It gave her that sense of empowerment over her destiny, even though she was still technically an employee.
Her freedom was everything to her after her marriage, during which Andy had practically held her prisoner. She’d been blinded by love in those early days, unable to see how he was slowly isolating her from friends and family, insisting he was the only one she needed in her life. Cut off from anyone who could’ve helped her, she’d been at the mercy of his temper when it had shown itself. He’d used any excuse to lash out at her—if the dinner had been overcooked or she’d been wearing too much make-up—but towards the end he hadn’t even bothered making excuses to beat her it had become so commonplace.
Iona flinched, almost able to feel those blows raining down on her after all this time. It was then she had understood why her mother had endured her own loveless relationship for so long. She’d been worn down, cut off from the outside world with no means to support herself financially when she’d sacrificed everything for her family. It had been Andy’s talk of babies and her mother’s death that had finally galvanised Iona into action. She could never have brought a child into that toxic atmosphere when she’d grown up in similar herself and had