Page 94 of One for the Road
“Almost.”
I hit the accelerator a bit too hard. “Feel like sharing?”
Out the corner of my eye, I watched him grab theohshithandle over the passenger window. “Not yet.”
He may have been the one literally holding on, but I was the one squirming the rest of the way to his mum’s house.
25
Alistair
Alistair,
I’m pleased to share that I have a promising candidate lined up.
I believe this doctor could be a strong fit for your practice, particularly given the rural setting and unique demands that come with Kinleith Surgery.
I’ve attached Dr Radcliff’s credentials for your review. I’ll be honest with you: he’s willing to overlook the issues attached to the surgery because he’s confident he can turn it around, but that might be reflected in his offering price.
Let me know your thoughts and we can set up an interview.
Sarah
MedSearch
“You actually came,” Callum said, wide-eyed, making me feel like shit when we arrived at myparents’house.
Mum’shouse.
Hearing Ava and Emily playing in the garden, Teddy bounded ahead of us while I helped Isla out of her cardigan – pink with knitted strawberries – with my pie-free hand and hung it on the hook.
We were last to arrive. My family all gathered around the island, doling out cooking chores like we had when we were kids. At the sink, Mum was washing lettuce in a colander, her customaryQueen of the Kitchenapron tied around her waist. Heather was chopping cucumber, Mal and April cooking at the hob. Well, April was stirring a pot of pasta sauce. Mal was standing behind her like she might keel over and go into labour at any moment. Their dogs, Boy and Dudley, slept in baskets by the empty fire grate. Juniper and Callum appeared to be doing nothing but observing.
“Something smells amazing.” Isla stepped forward, extending a bunch of yellow roses to Mum. “These are for you, Mrs Macabe. Thank you for inviting Teddy and me. I can’t remember the last time I ate a meal I didn’t cook myself.”
Fuck, this woman was making it so hard to not bundle her up in cotton wool.
“Oh, you needn’t have bothered, love,” Mum said, drying her hands before pulling Isla into a tight hug. “And please just call me Iris.”
She was right, Isla shouldn’t have bothered. I’d barely been able to contain my scowl when she’d hastily peeled the price sticker off the flowers I knew damn well she couldn’t afford.
“And blueberry pie,” I added, sliding the still-warm dish onto the counter.
“You baked?” Heather gasped.
“Isla baked.”
“In that case.” Heather dragged it closer to herself, rolling her eyes back as she inhaled. I’d almost done the same when Isla gave it to me to hold on the way over.
“You’re family now,” Mum continued, grinning at the two of us. “I’m so happy the two of you are together.”
“Shocked – she means shocked,” Heather said. Sticking her tongue out when I flipped my middle finger.
Isla’s face paled, almost guiltily. But it was exactly the excuse I needed to sweep my hand into the tantalising little dip where the side of her dungarees sat slightly lower than the hem of her cropped T-shirt, and urge her toward the free stool at the counter.
“Drink?” I whispered, feeling the weight of my family’s stares and using it as an excuse to linger.
Somewhere between the moment Isla, wearing only a nightshirt, had slipped through the connecting door this morning to use my shower and the drive over to Mum’s, I’d decided to go balls to the wall on this thing.
