‘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.
‘Hi. I’m Euan.’
‘Sam. Good to meet you, Euan.’
SHE COULDN’T ACCUSE Euan of doing anything by half-measures. Watching him give his undivided attention to others had been frustrating and Sam was unable to deny that she’d been a little jealous. Now that she finally had that attention, it was making her knees wobble.
His quiet enthusiasm, as he showed her around the clinic, seemed to seep through her skin, warming her. The comfortable counselling rooms and the tranquil garden. The community room, where a small group was talking over coffee. People were coming and going all the time, and he had a smile to spare for everyone.
He saved his surgery, which doubled up as his office, for last. Now that they were away from the community areas he seemed more animated, propping himself against the side of his desk to talk, while Sam scribbled notes. ‘We’re in transition at the moment. When the new residential centre is up and running it’ll take some of the pressure off the clinics here, and allow us to extend our outreach services.’
‘When’s that going to be?’
‘In the new year.’
‘And you’ll extend your services how...?’
‘We’re planning