Sarah Morgan Summer Collection

‘Ben will cope.’ Kyla looked out of the window and saw Doug staring across the garden. ‘How’s he doing?’

‘Well, he hasn’t had any more pain but he’s tired, of course. The hospital warned him that the drugs might make him tired. Said that Dr Walker could alter the dose if necessary.’

‘Yes.’ Kyla turned to her. ‘I meant mentally. Doug’s used to being very active. How is he coping with having to take it easy?’

‘Well, he doesn’t have much choice but I think he finds it frustrating.’ Leslie stared at her husband for a moment and then gave a bright smile. ‘Now, then. What was I doing? Tea. I’d offer you cake but when I came back from the hospital with Doug I went through the cupboards and threw out everything unhealthy. We’ve only fruit left to snack on.’

‘I don’t need cake, Leslie, thank you, and it’s good to know that you’re thinking about his diet.’

Leslie dropped teabags into a pot. ‘Hard to think about anything else,’ she muttered, and Kyla stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder.

‘Have you talked to anyone?’

‘Me?’ Leslie’s hand shook and she sloshed boiling water over the side of the teapot. ‘Why would I need to talk to anyone? I’m not the one who is sick.’

‘This happened to you as well as him,’ Kyla said quietly, taking the kettle from her and putting it safely back on the side. She reached for a cloth and mopped at the water. ‘It’s very stressful, seeing someone that you love suddenly taken ill. And you’ve had to stay strong for everyone. It must be incredibly hard.’

‘I’m fine,’ Leslie said briskly, her smile just a little too bright. ‘You go on outside and check on Doug. I’ll join you in a minute.’

‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you first.’

‘I’m not the ill one.’ Leslie folded a teatowel with almost obsessive attention to detail and then her face crumpled and she curled her fingers around the soft cloth and gripped it hard. ‘I keep waiting for him to die,’ she confessed in a whisper. ‘Every time he gets out of that chair I want to stop him from moving just in case it causes a strain on his heart. I want to yell at him, “Don’t move,” and here they are telling him to start gentle exercise. They want him to do this cardiac rehab … something.’

‘Rehabilitation.’

‘That’s right. Rehabilitation.’ She sniffed. ‘But I don’t want him to lift a teacup, let alone exercise!’

‘Oh, Leslie.’ Her voice loaded with sympathy, Kyla stepped forward and gave the other woman a hug. ‘The rehabilitation programme is really important after a heart attack. I know it seems scary to you but it’s really important to gradually increase the amount of activity. They’ve looked at his age and his lifestyle and worked out what’s right for him. I spoke to the cardiac sister this morning and we discussed the programme that the unit want him to follow.’

‘He’s got a video and some leaflets. And he’s going to have to lose some of that weight.’

Kyla nodded. ‘Yes, he is. But it’s not just about diet and exercise, Leslie. It’s about giving emotional support to both of you. About helping you both rebuild your lives.’

‘Is that possible?’

‘Yes.’ Kyla’s voice was soft. ‘We’re here for you, Leslie. You know we are. Logan, Dr Walker, Evanna and I. We’re here. You’re not on your own.’

‘But you can’t guarantee it will be OK, can you? You can’t guarantee he won’t have another one.’

‘No,’ Kyla said honestly, ‘there are never any guarantees for anyone in this life. But we’re going to do our best. Many people go on to lead full and long lives after a heart attack.’

‘I can’t even bear to sleep at night in case he needs me.’

‘That’s natural, Leslie. It’s still very early days. You may not believe me now but that feeling will ease. You will grow more confident and both of you will eventually be back on your feet again. It won’t go away but you’ll be surprised how you manage to live with it. I’ve seen it happen before. I know at the moment this thing is dominating your lives, but as the weeks and months pass it will start to take more of a back seat.’

‘Will it? I just keep picturing him lying on that couch with the oxygen mask on his face. I keep hearing all those machines beeping. I keep thinking of our little Andrea being left without a father—’ Leslie broke off and covered her mouth with her hand, fighting back the tears.

‘She still has her father,’ Kyla said softly, ‘and what you have to remember is that everyone is looking out for you. Both the doctors here and the hospital will be monitoring Doug and that’s a good thing.’

‘I hated those machines beeping in the hospital.’ Leslie gave a humourless laugh. ‘Now I’m missing them. At least when they were beeping I knew he was alive.’

‘It’s natural to feel a bit insecure when you’re first discharged from hospital, but you’re not on your own, Leslie. That’s why we’re here.’

‘Leslie? Is that Kyla?’ Doug’s voice came from the garden and Leslie cleared her throat and turned on the tap to splash her face with cold water.

‘Don’t you go telling him I’m worried,’ she said gruffly, drying her face with a towel and straightening her dress. ‘I don’t want him having any extra anxiety.’

‘Do you think he doesn’t know? Of course he knows you’re worried!’ Kyla shook her head and smiled. ‘I’ll go and chat to him while you take a moment for yourself. Maybe you can bring that tea out when you’re ready.’

‘I’ll do that. And, Kyla …’ Leslie’s voice stopped her before she went through the back door.

‘Yes?’

‘Thank you, lass. You’re a good girl.’

Kyla buried herself in work in an attempt not to think about Ethan.

She visited the McDonalds’ most days on her way home and popped in on Aisla to check on her. She filled her clinics to the brim and saw everyone who wanted to be seen, usually on the same day. At night she fell into bed, exhausted. And dreamed of Ethan.

All his earlier reluctance to socialise with Logan and Kirsty seemed to have disappeared and he frequently joined Logan for supper, often in the garden and even turned up at Kirsty’s first birthday party with an oversized stuffed teddy, which the little girl loved.

In order to avoid him, Kyla took to visiting Kirsty during the day and spending the occasional evening with her aunt who ran the café on the quay.

‘You’ve been visiting us more than usual,’ her aunt observed gently as she placed a bowl full of steaming home-made soup in front of Kyla. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Nothing at all.’ Kyla sniffed the bowl ‘Smells fantastic. Can you blame me for visiting? Given the choice of eating here or cooking for myself, there’s no contest.’

‘Kyla?’ Her aunt sat down opposite her, ignoring the customers who had just streamed into the café from the ferry. ‘I’ve known you all your life. There’s something the matter, I can tell.’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘And does this “nothing” happen to wear a suit and drive a flashy sports car?’

Kyla lifted her eyes from her soup. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Don’t you? This is an island, Kyla. It’s hard for things to go on without anyone noticing.’ Her aunt’s voice was gentle as she stood up. ‘You’re entitled to your privacy, if that’s what you want. But I’m reminding you that even though your mum’s not around, you’ve still family here, Kyla Mary MacNeil. Family who love you. Don’t you forget that.’

Kyla swallowed hard. ‘He isn’t interested, Aunty Meg.’

‘Strikes me that he’s a man with a great deal on his mind.’

Kyla gave a lopsided smile. ‘You sound like Evanna. She thinks he has “issues”.’

‘Maybe he has. Maybe he just needs a bit of space to work a few things out and this is a good place for that.’

Kyla shook her head. ‘I’m not pushing myself on him.’

‘So is that why you’re eating me out of house and home?’ Meg pushed some more bread towards her. ‘Because he’s spending time with your brother and you’re avoiding him?’