A Familiar Stranger

She laughed softly. ‘Hi.’

‘Hungry?’

‘Starving.’

‘When aren’t you?’ Finn said with a laugh. ‘You were hungry the first time I met you, and as far as I know you’ve been hungry ever since. Come on, let’s eat.’

‘Can I clean up first? Julie was in a bit of a mess. I could do with a change of clothes.’

Finn sniffed, and grinned. ‘Good idea. I could do with a wash, too. I’ll walk you back to your house.’

‘Such a gentleman.’

‘Don’t knock it.’

On the way, people seemed to come out of the woodwork and find them.

‘McGregor! Good tae see ye!’

‘Finlay—my, laddie, you’re even bigger!’

‘Caught any salmon yet this season, Finn?’ This last with a dig in the ribs from Auld Jock, a friend of Finn’s late father.

‘I’ll see you in a minute,’ Janna mouthed over Jock’s head, and left him to it.

She heard him come in through the front door while she was changing into an older pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that had definitely seen better days. Oh, well, So much for trying to please Finn. It was the last thing she should be doing, anyway. Perhaps it was a blessing Julie Harvey had been sick on her clothes!

He appeared from the cloakroom just as she stepped down into the hall. His eyes swept over her, softened in a smile and his hand came up and cupped her face. It was cool from the water and sent shivers over her skin. ‘OK now?’ he murmured.

‘Fine,’ she told him, annoyed with herself because her voice was breathless and thready. What a fool!

‘Let’s go, then.’

She felt the firm, warm pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he ushered her out of the door and down to the street, but just when she was ready to protest they had crossed the road and his hand fell away.

She felt the loss of contact right down to her socks. Damn you, Finn, she thought. Why can’t I get over you?

‘Come on,’ she said brightly. ‘I’m starving, and they’ve got venison casserole on the menu. I’d hate them to sell out.’

‘Always your stomach,’ Finn grumbled gently, but he let her lead the way, and for most of the meal she managed to stall the inevitable confrontation. In fact, for a while, she even thought she’d imagined there was a confrontation coming up.

She hadn’t. Finn asked for their coffee on a tray and took it outside, led Janna to a bench under the old horse-chestnut tree and turned to her as soon as they were seated.

‘We’ve got a problem, Janna, haven’t we?’ he said without preamble, handing her a cup of coffee. ‘I hoped we’d be able to work together well, but you don’t seem very happy to see me. I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding me, but clearly you’ve got your reasons. Do they mean we can’t work together now?’

She stared blankly at the swirl of cream circling slowly on the dark coffee. The prospect of losing him again suddenly overwhelmed her, and her hand trembled. ‘Of course we can work together, Finn,’ she said quickly. ‘We’re both adults. We’re capable of being sensible. I’m sure we’ll be fine.’

But her cup rattled betrayingly against the saucer and she put it down sharply, folding her hands together in her lap to steady them.

Finn reached out his hand and covered them, his thumb idly caressing the inside of one wrist. ‘I’m sorry if my coming back has messed things up for you, Janna. I didn’t intend to stir up old hurts or interfere with new relationships. I thought we were still friends.’

Janna couldn’t look away, transfixed by the searching, gentle eyes that she loved so much. She felt her own eyes welling, and blinked hard to stop them. ‘Of course we’re still friends,’ she whispered, and then his face blurred and she closed her eyes.

‘Ach, Janna,’ he groaned, and pulled her gently into his arms, folding her against his chest and cupping the back of her head with one large, comforting hand.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she mumbled into his jacket.

‘I’ve missed you, too, Janna,’ he replied softly, and she wondered if she’d really heard the wistful tone in his voice, or if her desperate heart had simply imagined it …

After that things were easier. Finn didn’t try to kiss her again, and in fact he seemed to go out of his way not to crowd her.

Perversely, she found herself missing it, and wished he wasn’t being so gentlemanly and reasonable. It was, however, wonderful to spend time with him again, albeit sporadically. He was very busy, and they only met on Monday morning, Wednesday morning and Friday afternoon at his surgeries. Otherwise she only spoke to him on the phone if she had a worry about a patient, and although she was busy she found the hours spent in the car between patients left her altogether too much time to dream.

Lindsay Baird was worrying her, and she spent a long time on the phone to Finn on the Monday evening of his second week, discussing her case history and how they could best manage her labour should the need arise. Janna was growing more certain that it would be necessary to manage her labour, because the woman was quite steadfast in her refusal to go to hospital.

‘Lay it on the line,’ Finn told her.

‘I have.’

He sighed. ‘Have you got any midwifely textbooks that show obstructed labour and describe the consequences?’

‘Finn, don’t you think that’s a bit drastic?’ Janna reasoned.

‘We’ve got to do something if she steadfastly refuses to see sense. I’ll come over and visit her tomorrow. Maybe she’ll listen to me.’

‘She wouldn’t listen to MacWhirter.’

‘He’s too nice. I won’t be.’

Janna sighed. ‘Finn, don’t frighten her unnecessarily.’

‘Janna, someone has to. It might as well be me. She can’t have the babe at home.’

However, by the time he got to see her on Tuesday, after his surgery at Glenmorriston, Lindsay’s labour was already established.

Finn returned to the house and reported to Janna, and they sat in her kitchen over a cup of tea and discussed where to go from there.

‘What stage is she at?’ Janna asked, watching Finn toying with a biscuit.

‘Dilating steadily—about four centimetres when I was there—and I don’t think she had any intention of calling you until it was too late to do anything. Regardless, she’s quite determined not to go to hospital. She threatened to sue me if I called the ambulance.’

‘And you listened?’

He grinned. ‘I always listen when people talk about suing me!’ The grin faded, and he reached for another biscuit, snapping it in half and dunking it in his tea thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know, Janna, she’s not due for two weeks, and the baby’s head doesn’t seem that big. I’m almost tempted to let her try.’

‘Finn!’

‘I know, but maybe she’s right, Janna. She’s much more relaxed and comfortable at home, and with proper management and support she might well be fine.’