A Doctor To Heal Her Heart

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.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_b6c1cbdd-207e-5b7a-aced-ef519af8f528)

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 to set up clinics and groups especially for users of party drugs. Amyl nitrates, ketamine hydrochloride, MDMA, methamphetamine... And we’re getting an increasing number of people coming in with steroid abuse problems, so we’re looking for someone who has experience of working with those kinds of body image issues.’

‘Will you be doing different things here than at the residential centre?’

‘Yeah. This place is ideal for clinics and groups, because it’s central and easy to get to. The residential centre’s out of town, so it’s good for weekend conferences and long-stay patients.’

‘And people will pay for the residential centre?’

‘If they can afford it, they make a donation. We don’t turn anyone away on the basis of money, and everyone’s treated the same whether they pay or not.’

‘It all seems so...’ Sam couldn’t really think of the right word. She’d expected the place to have more rawness about it. ‘So calm here.’

Euan chuckled. ‘Today’s a good day. We try to keep the atmosphere here relaxed, but it’s not always like this. Getting the better of an addiction is a long, tough process.’

‘But you guide people through that. Bring them back.’ She wanted to hear that Euan could single-handedly move mountains. Save the world. Someone needed to, because she couldn’t.

He was suddenly sombre, sitting down opposite her in one of the chairs reserved for his patients.

‘We can’t bring them all back. The clinic has a great success rate, but we can’t work miracles. Some of our clients will stop taking drugs altogether, some modify their habit and...some we lose.’

Her throat was suddenly dry. ‘But surely... Once someone wants to give up drugs, and they get help...’

‘That’s a great start. But addiction’s a powerful thing. Wanting to give up and getting the appropriate help is the first, all-important step on a very long road. Many of our clients have been through rehab more than once.’

‘How do you deal with that?’ Sam could hear an edge of desperation in her voice. For the last two years she’d thought that if only Sally had said something about her drug-taking, everything would have been okay. It hadn’t been much of a comfort, but it had been something to hold onto in a world of ever-shifting pain, and now Euan was snatching it away.

He leaned forward, his gaze searching her face as if he was trying to fathom out what she was really asking of him. ‘Sometimes I don’t. There are times when not being able to deal with something might be the most appropriate reaction.’

Sam would have to think about the implications of that statement. Later. ‘But you’re still here.’

‘Yep. So are you.’

Touché. Sam had her own reasons for that, and clearly Euan did too. She picked up her pencil and tried to think of a less demanding question.

‘What time does the clinic stay open until?’

‘Eleven o’clock. But my shift ends in ten minutes. I’m on call, but only for emergencies.’ His lips twitched into a smile. ‘Do you like Chinese?

That sounded like a trick question. ‘It depends...’

‘In that case, you’ll like the place I’ve booked for dinner.’ He grinned at her discomfiture. ‘A working dinner.’

‘Oh, so you’re going to make me sing for my supper, are you?’ Almost against her will she smiled back at him.

‘Were you thinking of clocking off yet?’

No, she wasn’t. Working too many hours was a way to keep from thinking too much. And if she fell into bed exhausted every night, that just meant that she slept a bit better. She did have to eat, though.

‘Am I okay to go as I am?’ Sam looked at her cargo pants and sneakers.

‘You want to show me up?’ He placed a hand on his chest, laughing. ‘Although you can if you want. This place doesn’t have a dress code.’