A Gentle Giant. Caroline Anderson

her. ‘She only told me she was away and wasn’t coming back. Nothing else.’

      ‘What else is there?’ he said bleakly.

      ‘There’s why.’

      He shot her a black look. ‘Your father was right. You’re an interfering baggage.’

      She took a deep breath and smiled. ‘Mrs ? told me not to let you frighten me. I get the impression you’re just a pussycat.’

      He gave a wry snort of laughter, and then met her eyes candidly.

      ‘You want to know about Jennifer? She hated it in the Highlands. We met in Edinburgh, where I trained, and when I did my GP trainee year I came out here to this practice. It was wonderful, so clean and straightforward, somehow, after the city—but within a month Jennifer had left and gone back to Edinburgh. She said she wanted a divorce, and I was tied to the practice, so I begged her to wait until the year was over and let us try again.

      ‘She refused, and when the year was up they offered me a job here and I took it. As soon as the second year of our separation was up, she started divorce proceedings. I took some leave and went back to Edinburgh to try and talk her out of it. At first it seemed that we might have a chance, but, when she asked me if I would consider a city practice and I said no, the most I would consider was a small rural practice just outside a city, that was it. End of reconciliation.’

      His face bleak, he continued, ‘Eleven months later she turned up with Chloe, eight weeks old, and said she didn’t want her. I was appalled. I had no way of looking after her, so I took a few days off, shopped for baby equipment and a housekeeper, and Mrs Harrison turned up, bless her heart. She’d lost her husband, her children had left the nest and she was finding things a bit tight and a lot lonely. She’s been a marvel, and without her I would have lost the only thing in the world I really care about.’

      He turned away, but not before Jamie caught the bright sheen of tears in his eyes.

      ‘So now you know,’ he said a little unevenly. ‘As far as Chloe’s concerned, mothers don’t exist.’

      ‘And as far as you’re concerned, women don’t exist except in cities.’ Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. How could she fight such deep-rooted prejudice?

      ‘That’s right,’ he said tersely. ‘I have to get back. Do you know the way?’

      She nodded, and he left her there, watching his powerful legs eating up the road as he sprinted back home. She followed slowly, her heart heavy.

      How could she make him understand? The peace and tranquillity of the quiet little Scottish backwater were just what her spirit needed after the last harrowing year. Perhaps he would give her a trial? Yes, that was it, she’d persuade him to allow her to help, make herself indispensable and then he’d have no option …

      She shook her head. It wouldn’t work. He wasn’t a man who allowed circumstances to dictate to him. As she let herself in the front door, she was almost resigned to putting her overnight bag back in the car and driving back to—where? Her parents’ house was sold, her half-brother and his wife didn’t want or need her—she had nowhere to go. No home, no job, friends who were too busy chasing the ladder of success to bother with a restless young woman who couldn’t settle down. No good telling them that her soul was starved. They would only laugh.

      Rob was standing in the hall with Chloe in his arms, talking on the phone as she walked in. He looked worried, and as she went up the stairs she heard him say he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

      He put Chloe in the kitchen with Mrs H and bounded past Jamie on the stairs, going up three at a time. He ran into his bedroom, stripping off his vest as he went, and seconds later she heard drawers slamming.

      She tapped on the open bedroom door, and he glanced up, clad only in a pair of skimpy briefs. She dragged her eyes from his body, aware that this was not the time to be distracted.

      ‘Can I help?’ she offered quietly.

      He looked at her as if she were an answer to his prayers, and nodded.

      ‘School bus overturned on the main road. Have you got a medical bag in your car?’

      ‘Yes, of course.’

      ‘Throw something on and bring it. I’ll get some syringes and some diamorphine from the dispensary, and we’ll need giving sets and some saline——’

      She didn’t wait to hear the familiar list.

      They met in the hall a few seconds later. He stuck his head round the kitchen door, rattled off instructions to Mrs H and joined her at the Land Rover.

      ‘Got the bag?’

      She nodded.

      ‘Come on, then.’

      He drove at breakneck speed, and when they arrived she could see why. It was a scene of absolute mayhem. Terrified children clustered round each other some yards from the bus, which lay on its side at the edge of the road. As they approached, the policeman who had been first on the scene greeted them with relief.

      ‘Most of the kids are fine—cuts and bruises, the odd fracture—one arm, a couple of fingers. A WPC is giving them some first aid and a bit of TLC. Two children still trapped inside—both still alive, but one has head injuries and probably leg injuries, and the other has abdominal injuries from the crushed seat in front of her.’

      ‘Have their parents been informed?’ Rob asked tersely.

      ‘Doing it now. The two in the bus are apparently Stephen Watson and Trudy Douglas——’

      ‘Trudy?’ Rob’s face lost its colour and he closed his eyes. ‘Come on, Jamie. You come with me into the bus and we’ll see if we can get them out.’

      They made their way in through the smashed windscreen, past the rows of broken seats to the two children trapped near the back. There was a policewoman crouched beside them, murmuring reassuringly to Trudy. Rob, hunched up in the cramped roof of the bus, reached Trudy first.

      ‘Hello, Trudy, love,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll soon have you out of here. Tell me where you hurt, hen.’

      She lifted wide, terrified eyes at him and gave him a trembly little smile. ‘Hello, Dr Rob,’ she whispered. ‘I think my effluent’s oozed out; I’m all wet,’ she told him.

      ‘Is it just the tummy?’ he asked, and she nodded.

      He quickly assessed the extent of the damage, and then turned to Jamie. ‘I’m going to have to get her out to deal with her. I think I may be able to shift the seat if you can steady her—think you can manage it? It’s a bit awkward.’

      ‘I’ll be fine,’ she told him. ‘This little boy’s unconscious, but his vital signs seem fairly strong. He’s trapped by the legs. I think most of the blood’s from a scalp wound.’

      Rob nodded. ‘We’ll get Trudy out first before we try and move him.’

      He got a line into her arm, ran in some saline and gave her a small shot of pethidine, examining the seat while it took effect. Then he positioned Jamie under Trudy so she wouldn’t fall when the seat was moved, and braced his legs against the roof and the seat behind.

      ‘Ready?’ he murmured, and winked at Trudy. Then he bunched his muscles and heaved, and the seat creaked up and eased steadily away. She slithered on to Jamie’s lap with a little cry, and Jamie’s arms wrapped instinctively around the brave little girl.

      ‘All right, sweetheart, soon have you out and comfy,’ she crooned reassuringly, as Rob gave the seat one last wrench and cleared the way. Then he stooped and lifted Trudy from her lap, and bore her tenderly out of the bus to lie on the grass outside.

      It was immediately obvious that it was more than her dialysate that had leaked. Her school uniform was soaked with blood, and Rob looked desperately worried.

      She met his eyes over Trudy’s body, and