Gerry murmured, ‘I can work around him.’
Kristie straightened her spine. If she didn’t start to get some decent filming soon she could kiss her career goodbye. But there was a little fire of anger burning down inside her. She didn’t let people ignore her. And she’d checked the contract, she knew exactly what Dr Gillespie was getting in return for doing this. He owed her three days of filming every month, and if this guy didn’t start to deliver, she wouldn’t hesitate to remind him.
But Kristie knew, at least for now, she should try and ease him into this filming. Maybe the guy was nervous. Maybe he was shy. Or maybe the guy was just a jerk. Part of her was mad. Did he have any idea how hard she was finding this? Obviously not. But whatever it was that was eating him, she had less than a day and a half to find out.
‘So, Dr Gillespie, can you tell me about the first patient we’ll be seeing?’
She could see the muscles under his white shirt tense. The ones around the base of his neck were particularly prominent. She nodded to Gerry to keep filming as Rhuaridh muttered a few unintelligible words.
‘To the camera, Dr Gillespie,’ she said smoothly.
He blinked and turned towards her just as Gerry flicked on their extra light. She almost stepped back. Resentment and annoyance seemed to ooze from every pore. For a second she was sure he was going to say no.
So she moved quickly. ‘In fact, let’s start with introductions. Face the camera, I’ll introduce you, then you can tell the viewers a little about yourself.’ She shot him a look, then added in a quiet voice, ‘And don’t mumble.’
She would never normally do things like this. Usually she would go over all the introductory questions with their subject, check their responses, and make sure everyone was comfortable before they started filming. But the fact was—on this occasion—they just didn’t have the time.
Before he had a chance to object she turned to the camera and gave her widest smile. ‘Hi, there, folks. It’s Kristie Nelson here, and I’m your host for...’ She realised her mistake almost instantly, but no one watching would notice it. Did this guy know he was going to be called a Hot Highland Doc for the next year? Maybe better to keep some things quiet, this was already an uphill struggle.
She was smooth. She’d been doing this too long. ‘A Year in the Life of...’ She let her voice tail off and held both hands towards Rhuaridh. ‘Our doctor. And here he is, this is Rhuaridh Gillespie and he works on the Isle of Arran. Dr Gillespie, can you tell us a little bit about your background and the work that you do?’
Rhuaridh did his best impression of a deer in the headlights. She gave him a little nudge in the ribs and he actually started.
He stared at the camera. Gerry kept it still while he stuck his head out from behind the viewfinder and mouthed, ‘Go,’ to him.
Rhuaridh gave the tiniest shudder that Kristie was sure only she could see before he started talking. ‘Yes, hi, thanks. I’m Rhuaridh Gillespie. I grew up on this island—Arran—before leaving to train in Glasgow as a doctor, then I’ve worked in a number of other hospitals, and for Doctors Without Borders. I trained as a GP—a general practitioner—like my father, then came back last year to take over the practice when my father...’ he paused for a split second before quickly finding a word ‘...retired.’
She was surprised. He was doing better than expected, even though he still looked as though he didn’t want to be there.
‘Can you tell the viewers a little about Arran?’ she asked.
‘It’s an island,’ he said, as though she’d just asked a ridiculous question.
She kept the smile firmly in place. ‘Can you tell the viewers a little about the people here, and the hospital? What was it like growing up here?’ The curses shooting across her brain stayed firmly hidden.
He gave a slow nod as if he finally understood that most people watching wouldn’t have a single clue about Arran. ‘Growing up here was...’ his eyes looked up to the left ‘...fun. Free. Yeah, as a child I had a lot of freedom. Everyone knows everyone in Arran...’ he gave a half-smile ‘...so there’s not much you can get away with. But a normal day was getting on my bike and disappearing into the hillsides with my friends. The lifestyle here is very outdoors.’ He gave a small frown. ‘Not everyone likes that.’
She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that but didn’t push. ‘And the island?’ she asked again.
It was almost like his professional face slid back into place. ‘The population is around five thousand people, but in the summer months that can quadruple. We have a small cottage hospital with some long-stay beds and a small A and E department. I share the work in the hospital with the other GP on the island.’
‘What happens in an emergency?’ asked Kristie.
He looked a little uncomfortable. ‘If it’s a real emergency, then we send the patient off the island by air ambulance. In other circumstances we send people by road ambulance on the ferry and on to the local district general hospital.’
‘How long does that take?’ She could see a dozen potential stories forming in her head.
Now he was starting to look annoyed. ‘The ferry takes around an hour. The transfer from Ardrossan—where the ferry docks—and the local hospital takes around thirty minutes.’
‘Wow, that could be dangerous.’
His eyes flashed. ‘Not at all. We assess all our patients and make sure they are fit for the transfer before they are sent.’
‘What about people needing surgeries or baby emergencies?’ She knew there was another word for that but just couldn’t think of it.
‘Most surgeries are pre-planned and our patients will have made arrangements to go to the mainland. All pregnant women on the island are assessed by both an obstetrician and their midwife. We’ve had a number of planned home deliveries on the island. Any woman who has a history that would give cause for concern for her, or for her baby, has arrangements made for admission to the mainland hospital to ensure the equipment and staff required are there for her delivery. We haven’t had any problems.’
Dull. This place was sounding decidedly dull. All the good stuff—the interesting stuff—got sent to the mainland. But there were a hundred documentary-style shows that covered A and E departments. How on earth was she going to make this show interesting enough for people to keep watching?
She licked her lips and turned to the computer on top of Rhuaridh’s case note trolley. ‘So, Dr Gillespie, let’s go back. Can you tell us about the first patient we’ll be seeing?’
She had to keep this moving. Interesting footage seemed to be slipping through her fingers like grains of sand on the cold beach outside. Please let this get better.
* * *
There was not a single thing about this that he liked. Her American accent was beginning to grate on him. ‘Don’t mumble’ she’d had the cheek to say to him. He’d never mumbled in his life. At least, he didn’t think that he had.
That spotlight had been on him as he’d done the ward round in the cottage hospital. Normally it would have taken half an hour, but her incessant questions had slowed him down more than he’d liked.
She’d kept stopping and talking in a quiet voice to her cameraman and that had irritated him probably a whole lot more than it should have.
He was almost chanting the words in his head. One more day. One more day.
One of the nurses from the ward came and found him. ‘Rhuaridh, there’s been a message left to remind you about your home visit.’