Reunited: A Miracle Marriage

CHAPTER TWO

SALLY stood by the window of her surgery, looking out over the sea to the little isle of Hersa. Her mood was as restless as the white-capped waves lashing against the sea-wall as she waited for the arrival of Jack McLennan. How stupid it was to be so nervous about working with him, she thought irritably. After all, he would merely be a colleague, someone she could keep at a distance. She felt quite neutral about him—of course she did, she told herself sharply. Some old feelings might have been stirred up momentarily when she’d seen him again, but the aching sadness mixed with hatred she’d felt for him when he’d dumped her so shockingly six years ago had diminished now. All the same, she had to get used to the idea of working with someone who had once betrayed her.

Over time, she’d learned to live without Jack, although it had been a slow and painful process. She’d felt rootless and alone. There’d been liaisons with a few men, none of them permanent, none of them able to offer her the settled life she craved. She seemed to live in a world of happy couples, many of whom were starting families. Gradually, however, she’d reconciled herself to the life of a singleton, and had thrown herself into taking up as many interests as she could.

Then, only a few months ago, she’d met Tim Langley, a man going places big time with an IT company in Glasgow, having built it up from nothing. He had sown his wild oats and was longing to get married, and Sally was everything he’d pictured a wife of his should be—successful in her own right, beautiful, and connected to the right people.

She had met Tim through her father, whose well-known firm of solicitors acted for Tim’s company. Mr Lawson was a respected lawyer in Glasgow, very much involved in the city life, and he admired Tim’s get-up-and-go and ambition and had encouraged his daughter and Tim to get together. Her parents had been devastated at their daughter’s unhappiness when she and Jack had broken up and had longed for her to find stability and love again. They had been thrilled when her new romance had seemed to be going well.

At first she and Tim had been thrown together when asked to make up numbers for business parties that Mr Lawson had arranged. They’d become good friends and it had been fun to be part of a group. They suited each other and it seemed right that two lonely people should end up together. Perhaps they were both aware that their commitment to each other was based more on need for a partner than all-consuming passion, but once they’d decided to get married, and almost before she’d known it, Sally had been caught up in the whirlwind of organising the wedding.

In two weeks she was having the final fitting of her wedding dress, although she felt a little shiver of guilt at the expense of it. But Tim had said that she must have only the best—and that was rather flattering. Sally had to dress for the part even if she did sometimes feel that she was being asked to take the lead in an enormous dramatic production on behalf of the guests.

She let the window blind drop with a snap and turned back towards her desk with a small sigh, flicking a look at her watch. It was still early—half an hour before surgery began—so she’d just have time to do some paperwork and catch up on her hospital admission e-mails.

Joyce Farquahar’s abrupt voice came over the intercom. ‘Dr McLennan’s here to see you. Do you want me to send him in?’

An inexplicable skip of her heart at this information made Sally tell herself sternly, For heaven’s sake, you’re only working with Jack because it’s an emergency situation. Forget what went on between you all that time ago. He’s a colleague, that’s all!

Then she said aloud, ‘Thanks, Joyce. And if you’d rustle up some coffee, that would be great.’

Joyce said in her usual brusque manner, ‘I can’t do everything at once. It’ll be a few minutes if you want me to finish printing off all the immunisation letters first.’

Sally grinned to herself. Joyce Farquahar was hard working and well organised, but charm didn’t feature in her many attributes. ‘I think the letters can wait a few minutes,’ she said drily.

A few seconds later there was a light knock on the door and Jack walked in, looking tall and imposing in a well-cut dark suit that emphasised his strong build. There were no two ways about it, he had style! How well she remembered those compelling blue eyes with the dancing amusement in them that had made her go weak at the knees. Sally drew in a deep breath. It was hard to believe that underneath that debonair and charismatic aura he was a complete rat! She wondered how many other women he’d conned over the years.

He smiled down at her easily, and before she knew it had taken her hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘I’m looking forward to working with you again, Sally,’ he said in that deep attractive voice.

His hand was warm and strong and Sally removed hers quickly from his clasp. ‘We won’t be working in each other’s pockets,’ she informed him coolly. ‘Once I’ve shown you the ropes we’ll have a weekly meeting. Jean and I divided up the clinics between us and I guess we can do the same.’

‘Whatever you say.’

A wry look of amusement flickered in Jack’s eyes. He didn’t blame her for keeping him at arm’s length. From her point of view he was the man whose word couldn’t be trusted, the man who had led her to believe they’d had a future together, and she was bound to hate him for what he’d done to her. He’d thought it would be for the best for her to think of him as a heartless brute, someone not worth loving, and that way she’d get over him quickly, realising that she’d made a mistake and get on with her life.

Over the years he’d often wondered what she was doing, what path her life had taken. Seeing her standing in front of him now dressed in a trim navy blue trousersuit, with those wide grey eyes and blond, shining hair, he realised that his feelings for her were still very near the surface. Only now it was too late, he thought sadly. Even if he had been able to commit to her, she was about to get married to somebody else.

She cleared her throat and said briskly, ‘Then shall we get on with things? Please sit down and I’ll give you the lowdown on the practice before we start work, and later I’ll show you the little flat above the surgery where you can stay—we’ve just had it renovated.’

If Jack noticed her peremptory manner he didn’t show it. ‘Sounds a good idea,’ he said evenly, hitching up his trousers and sitting down on the chair in front of the desk. ‘It’ll be very convenient to live over the shop. Do you live near the practice?’

‘I have a little cottage at the end of the village.’

Jack’s gaze slid to the picture of Tim on her desk and turned it more towards him. ‘And is this your fiancé?’

‘Yes… He lives in Glasgow,’ she replied, slightly irritated at his probing questions. She continued crisply, ‘He comes here at the weekends when he can—or I go to stay with him.’ She turned the conversation firmly back to the matter in hand. ‘Now, about the practice—we have six thousand patients scattered over a wide area, and I’m afraid we’re responsible for an on-call service at night, which we share with two other practices down the coast, but we only do it once a week. I hope that won’t be a problem?’

Jack shook his head and looked out of the window where the view could just be seen through the half-closed blinds. ‘It’s a lovely area to work in,’ he commented. ‘Do we have any patients on the island over there?’

Sally nodded. ‘Yes—there’s a ferry that comes and goes, but the sea can be treacherous. Although the island is so near it means that the ferry can’t always get across and in an emergency the rescue helicopter has to be used.’

There was a loud bang on the door and Joyce stumped in with a tray of coffee. ‘Here you are, then. I’m afraid there’s no sugar left,’ she said tersely, putting the tray on the desk. ‘I’ll send Sharon out for some when she gets here.’

Sharon was the other receptionist, a constant thorn in Joyce’s side, giggly and good-natured and addicted to women’s magazines with the latest tips on how to improve oneself—which she was always trying to persuade Joyce to follow, without much success.

‘Joyce, this is Jack McLennan, who’s going to be helping out while Jean’s in New Zealand.’

Jack stood up and smiled down at Joyce. ‘A pleasure to meet you. I’ll be relying on you to keep me on the straight and narrow!’

He gave her that melting lopsided grin, and even as Sally watched, Jean’s dour face relaxed into an unwilling smile.

‘Och, I’ll be pleased to help if I can. Just let me know if you’re not sure about anything,’ she said as she went out.

Jack obviously hadn’t lost his skill in turning on the charm, thought Sally, almost amused by his ability to bring a smile to Joyce’s face. Thank goodness she herself was immune to it now! She opened one of the desk drawers to give Jack a sheaf of papers relating to the practice and the local health authority, and just as she did so, loud screaming started outside.

They both looked up, startled, then Jack frowned and put down his coffee, getting up from his chair and striding to the window.

‘Sounds as if someone’s in trouble,’ he murmured, pulling aside the blinds to look outside. He gave a sudden horrified exclamation as he leaned forward to look at the scene.

‘My God!’ he exclaimed. ‘There’s someone in the water, and it’s hellish rough. A little girl’s watching it from the side—she’s the one that’s screaming. I’d better go and see if I can do anything.’ He dashed out of the room and Sally gazed openmouthed after him, before pulling herself together and running after him through the waiting room.

‘Get the emergency services, Joyce. It looks like someone needs rescuing from the sea,’ she shouted as she followed him.

Outside she stood transfixed. A few yards out, a man and a dog were being tossed like corks on the surface of the heaving sea. Waves were crashing against the breakwater, throwing white spume into the air. Clinging to the railings overlooking the sea a small child was screaming, and Jack was pulling off his clothes frantically, preparing to dive into the water. Sally ran up to the child and put her arms round her.

‘It’s all right, sweetheart, don’t worry. Help’s on its way very soon. You come inside with me for a minute…’

The child clung obstinately to the railings. ‘I want my grandpa and Fudge,’ she screamed. ‘Get them out.’

Sally had to get the little girl away from watching this scenario. A traumatic scene like this could stay with the child for the rest of her life and she didn’t want her to witness a tragedy if they couldn’t get the man out of the water soon. She bent down, picked up the struggling child and took her into the surgery.

‘Joyce!’ she shouted above the child’s crying, ‘Can you get this little one a drink and a biscuit and distract her while I go back and see if there are any lifebelts?’

Joyce might normally have an abrupt manner, but in an emergency she was a stalwart. She took the little girl behind the desk, talking soothingly to her all the time, then sat her on her knee with some milk and began showing her a comic from the waiting room. Sally dashed out again and ran to the lifebelt fixture on the wall a short distance away.

‘My God,’ she muttered. ‘The damn thing’s been vandalised!’

She stared at the rusting remnants of the hooks that had held the lifebelt in place—obviously it had been stolen. She looked back at Jack, now stripped down to his underpants, his suit and shirt flung in a heap on the ground behind him, preparing to leap into the water. It was still early in the day and the road as yet was deserted. There was no one to help.

‘Wait, Jack!’ she screamed. ‘Let me get a rope from somewhere…please!’

‘No time!’ he shouted back. ‘Don’t worry!’

Sally caught her breath as he dropped into the water and began to swim laboriously towards the bobbing heads of the man and dog, making slow headway in the heaving water. She looked around desperately—what the hell could she use to help him? His head kept disappearing in the swell of the waves. Each time she thought he’d gone, and then he’d reappear again slightly nearer the stricken man. Where was everybody? To her immense relief, a van came down the road, and Sally ran up to it, waving for it to stop. It drew into the kerb and a burly man dressed in overalls got out.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

She pointed breathlessly to the sea and the man and dog in the water. ‘Have you got a rope…anything to throw to them?’ she yelled.

Without a word the man opened the doors and miraculously produced a coil of thick nylon rope.

‘I’ll get it to them—don’t you worry,’ he shouted.

Sally watched on tenterhooks as he quickly tied one end of the rope to the railings, then he took off his overalls and within a few moments had also jumped into the water, holding the rope as he did so. People were beginning to gather round now and all of them watched tensely, murmuring to each other as the two men tried to reach the man struggling tantalisingly close to them but behind a great wall of waves.

Jack was a strong swimmer, that was easy to tell, but even so it took him a nerve-racking few minutes to get within touching distance of the distressed man. The man was panicking, shouting and throwing his arms up, and when Jack took hold of him he struggled, clutching at Jack’s neck so that it was impossible to get a firm hold of the man to tow him back.

Sally gripped the railing, her eyes glued to the drama being played out before her, willing Jack to calm the man so that he could be helped. Gradually the van driver, although not as good a swimmer as Jack, made headway towards them and somehow they both managed, despite the heavy swell, to pass the rope round the man’s chest.

At least now there was a lifeline to be used, and people rushed to hold the rope and started pulling it towards the wall. The man was shouting something—difficult over the roar of the waves to hear what it was but suddenly Jack veered away from escorting him back and made for the bobbing head of the dog. There was a groan of dismay from the crowd.

‘Don’t do that!’ shouted Sally desperately. ‘You’ll drown! Oh, you stupid, stupid man!’

He didn’t hear her, of course, and continued doggedly making his way towards the animal. By a miraculous sudden stroke of luck the swell pushed the dog towards him. He grabbed its collar and slowly, very slowly, managed to gain ground towards the shore. Sally started to make her way carefully down the slippery steps, ignoring people’s cries to keep back. She bent down to grab the animal as Jack, the van driver and the rescued man were hauled up by one or two of the onlookers. She kept hold of the dog with grim determination, soaked by the spray from breaking waves against the wall, and then she too was helped back up the steps.

An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through her—they were all safe! Jack was standing feet away from her, bent over double, his hands on his knees, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Then he was handed a towel and started briskly towelling himself dry. There was no disguising his impressive physique: he was still as tautly muscled as he’d been when he and Sally had been together. He stood up and looked across at her, feeling her gaze at him, and Sally turned away abruptly. What a stupid observation to make, she told herself crossly. There was an emergency to be dealt with!

She squatted down by the rescued man, now laid out on the ground on someone’s coat, and recognised him immediately as a patient at the Harbour Practice—a man of over seventy. She put her fingers on his wrist, checking his pulse, noting his shallow breathing and that his lips were tinged blue. His eyes tried to focus on her, but he seemed confused and rather drowsy.

‘Callum,’ she said loudly, trying to rouse him. ‘We’re going to try and warm you up a bit before the ambulance gets here.’ She turned round and saw Sharon hovering anxiously nearby.

‘Get plenty of blankets from the surgery, Sharon, and bring a few mugs of warm coffee—not too hot.’

Sharon tottered off in the high heels she always wore to work, then in the distance Sally heard the whine of an ambulance siren. She took hold of the man’s hand and squeezed it. ‘You’ll be all right—the paramedics are here.’

The man mumbled something and she bent down to hear him. ‘The dog. What happened to the dog…and my little granddaughter?’

‘The dog’s going to be fine. Don’t worry, he’s wrapped in a blanket and I can see him wagging his tail now! And as for your granddaughter, she’s in the surgery across the road, being well looked after.’

This was no time to tell Callum how foolish he’d been in trying to rescue the dog by himself—and she reflected grimly that two other people could have drowned trying to rescue the man in trouble.

A few minutes later the ambulance drew up in front of them and a paramedic leapt out, quickly assessing the scene before him. He recognised Sally and came up to her, squatting down next to Callum and feeling the man’s pulse.

‘Hello, Dr Lawson.’ His eyes swept round the group of people. ‘Looks like a few of you are rather damp. I take it this gentleman’s been in that cold water for a while—do you know his name?’

‘Yes, it’s Callum Brody, he’s a patient of ours and he’s about seventy-three years old. His pulse is slow, about sixty-five per minute, and as you can see he’s cyanosed and drowsy.’

‘Definitely hypothermic,’ agreed the paramedic. He slipped his hand into the man’s armpit. ‘This is an area of his body that should be warm, but it feels quite cold.’

He turned to his colleague who was standing nearby, watching them. ‘Get some space blankets out of the van—enough for this patient and the two men over there,’ he said, indicating Jack and the van driver. He looked at Sally. ‘Looks like you could do with a blanket too—you’re shivering. We’ll get you one, and then you go straight inside.’

Sally didn’t object when she was wrapped in a space blanket with its layers of heat-reflecting material. She felt exhausted and her whole body shivered. Jack came up to her, also enveloped in a blanket.

‘That was a narrow squeak,’ he remarked.

Relief at their safety made her sound waspish. ‘You shouldn’t have gone in until we’d got you a rope,’ she said brusquely to Jack. ‘And you’re to go in the ambulance to be checked out at the Rannoch Hospital.’

Jack laughed. ‘Certainly not! I’m a bit chilled, but I’ll get warm in the surgery and my clothes are dry.’

‘But you ought to—’

‘No “ought to” about it. I’ve come to start work today, and that’s what I’m going to do.’

The paramedics had loaded Callum Brody into the ambulance and came forward to try and persuade Jack and Des, the van driver, to come with them to be checked over, but they both refused, Des saying he preferred to go home and get warm. Sally was left alone with Jack.

‘You should have gone for a check-up—you were in the water for ages,’ she said brusquely.

‘You’re a doctor—you can check me over,’ he replied cheekily with a grin.

She couldn’t help smiling back at him and briefly there was a tremor between them of…what? A slight rapport, a ripple of the old attraction? Perhaps it was just relief. The incident had had a happy conclusion—with-out Jack’s quick intervention Callum and the dog would probably have drowned. It had been foolhardy of Jack, but courageous to say the least. He hadn’t stopped to think of his own safety, she had to acknowledge that.