A Mother's Secret

It made her catch her breath.

People said that you made up your mind in the first thirty seconds when you viewed a house. And even though the deal was done Gemma knew immediately she’d made the right decision. She walked around. Some of her furniture and most of her boxes had already been put in some of the rooms.

She ran her finger along the wall. The place looked a little tired. If it had been decorated it would have been perfect. But she could live with it in its current state. If need be, she could do the painting herself.

Frank tapped her shoulder. ‘There’s another little issue.’ He pointed back outside.

Gemma followed him to find her brand-new purple sofa sitting in the driveway. ‘What’s wrong?’

He pointed to the doorway. ‘It’s too small. We can’t get it in.’

She spun around. ‘You’re joking, right?’

He shook his head. ‘Did you ask for the dimensions of the door before you bought it?’

She could feel the colour flare into her cheeks. Of course she hadn’t. She’d fallen in love with the colour immediately, and once she’d sat in it in the showroom her mind had been made up. Dimensions hadn’t even entered her brain. Not once. ‘Could we take the door off?’

He shook his head. ‘We’ve already tried that. It’s just too big.’

Just like she thought. Ruthlessly efficient. She’d half a mind to invite these removal contractors to work with her in one of the big hospitals in Glasgow to see what changes they would make. They would probably have the whole rambling hospital running seamlessly in a matter of days.

One of the other men approached. ‘I’ve checked the back window—the one that’s broken and boarded up. If we take out the window frame we might get it in there.’

‘I’ve got a broken window?’ She was trying not to let her chin dangle open. This was just getting better and better.

‘You didn’t know?’

She shook her head, her long strides taking her back into the house and following the pointing fingers to the window at the back of her living room. There were a few remnants of broken glass caught in the window frame, but someone had done a good job clearing up the floor and ensuring it was spotless. The carpet in this room had been slightly worn and damaged in the pictures she’d seen so she’d given instructions for it to be lifted. Her new carpet was currently rolled up inside the removal van, waiting to be fitted—another aspect of the efficient company.

She touched the edge of the window. ‘I knew nothing about this. I guess I’ll need to phone the estate agent.’ She sighed. ‘If taking the frame out is the only way to get the sofa in then just go ahead.’

Two other men appeared with the underlay and carpet, ready to fit it. One of them gave her a smile. ‘I take it you just want us to go ahead, lift the old carpet and get the new one laid?’

She gave a little nod. She’d have to worry about paint stains later. The removals company had covered just about every angle. It was just a pity the decorator hadn’t fulfilled his duties.

Her phone rang sharply and she pulled it out of her pocket.

‘Dr Halliday? Are you here yet?’ It was a deep voice and one she didn’t recognise.

‘That depends. What “here” do you mean? And who are you?’

‘Sorry. It’s Logan Scott. One of the GPs you’ll be working with. I needed to see if you could cover a shift.’

She let out a laugh. ‘Cover a shift? I’ve just got here. And my house isn’t painted. A window’s broken, I haven’t unpacked a thing and I would have no one to look after my daughter. So, Dr Scott, I don’t think I’ll be covering any shifts any time soon.’ She winced at the snarky tone in her voice. She was taking her frustrations out on a perfect stranger—and, worse still, a new workmate.

‘You have a daughter? I didn’t know that.’

She felt herself bristle. What did that mean? And what business of his was it that she had a daughter? But he continued, ‘You’re at the cottage? I’ll be there in two minutes.’

Before she could say another thing he’d hung up. She shook her head and walked back inside, just in time to see the wooden board being taken off the window and the window frame being slid out of place.

The underlay was already down on the floor and was being anchored in place. These removal guys really didn’t waste any time. Then again, she could bet none of them wanted to risk missing the last ferry home and being stranded for the night. She’d been warned in advance that the Arran ferry could be cancelled at the first gust of wind.

She walked along to Isla’s room. Her bed was nestled in the corner with the new bedding and curtains sitting on top of it. Isla was on the floor with one of her boxes upended and toys spread across the floor. She was already in a world all of her own.

Gemma’s eyes ran over the room and she gave a groan. No curtain poles. She hadn’t even given it a thought. She’d just assumed there would be some still in place. Another thing to add to the list.

Isla’s oak wardrobe and chest of drawers had been put in place—in the exact spots where Gemma would have positioned them herself. Most of Isla’s clothes were in the car—still on their hangers—it would only take a few minutes to pick them up and start to get Isla’s room ready.

She walked outside and opened her car door. The wind was starting to whip her dress around her legs and she grabbed it as she leaned inside to grab a handful of Isla’s clothes. The last hanger slid from her hands on to the floor between the front seats and the back. She leaned further, her feet leaving the ground as she stretched as far as she could, just as the biggest gust of wind caught her dress and billowed it upwards.

‘Well, there’s a sight I don’t see every day.’

‘What?’ Panic filled her chest as her cheeks flared with heat. Her left hand thrust out behind her and caught the wayward fabric of her dress, pulling it back firmly over her underwear as she scrambled back out the car, pulling Isla’s clothes with her. Several of the items landed on the ground at her feet. So much for keeping everything on their hangers to save time.

She pushed her hair out of her face. She couldn’t really see properly. The cheeky stranger was standing with his back to the bright sun, which was glaring directly at her.

‘Look, Mummy!’ shouted Isla. ‘There’s one! I told you we’d find you a boyfriend on Arran!’

Her eyes adjusted. Oh, no. Just what she needed. A tall, almost dark and very handsome stranger with a smattering of stubble across his face. Her biggest vice.

Ground, open up and swallow me now. Complete and utter mortification.

What else could go wrong?

* * *

Logan didn’t know who to be more amused with. The little girl for just embarrassing her mum to death, or the rogue dress and sea winds, which had just given him a glimpse of some lovely pink satin underwear.

He held out his hand. He’d love to stay here all day, but he really needed to get things sorted. ‘Logan Scott. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ There it was. The light floral scent that he’d thought was floating in the air was actually coming from her. Hmm. He could get used to that.

Her cheeks were scarlet. Her long curly brown hair with lighter tips was flapping around her face like mad, caught in the brisk sea winds, and her dress was once again joining in the fun. He hadn’t expected her to look quite so young. Then again, he hadn’t expected her to have a child either. Maybe he should have paid a little more attention when his colleagues had said they had recruited someone for the summer.

The dress was really playing havoc with her. Now the pink and white material was plastered back across her body, revealing every curve, every slope and the outline of her underwire bra. Having glimpsed one half of her underwear he tried not to wonder if it was a matching set.

It was obvious she was trying to collect her thoughts. She held out her slim hand towards his outstretched one and grasped it firmly—as if she was trying to prove a point. ‘Are you always so forward with your colleagues, Dr Scott?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Only if they look like you. Welcome to Arran, Dr Halliday.’

The little girl waved her hand. ‘Come and see my new room, it’s beautiful.’

Gemma tucked her hair behind her ears and thrust the pile of clothes she had in her hands towards him. Her embarrassment was still apparent, but it was clear she intended to get past it. ‘You might as well make yourself useful. These are Isla’s. Just hang them up in her cupboard.’

For a second he was stunned. Then a smile crept across his face. It wasn’t any more presumptuous than he’d just been. Maybe he’d just met his female equivalent?

He followed the little red-haired girl into the house and fumbled with her clothes. Most of the hangers had tangled together and some of the dresses landed in a heap at his feet as he tried to slot them in the wooden wardrobe.

‘Careful with this one. It’s my favourite.’