About the Author

SCARLET WILSON wrote her first story aged eight and has never stopped. She’s worked in the health service for twenty years, having trained as a nurse and a health visitor. Scarlet now works in public health and lives on the West Coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. Writing medical romances and contemporary romances is a dream come true for her.

Also by Scarlet Wilson

Locked Down with the Army Doc

Cinderella’s New York Christmas

Island Doctor to Royal Bride?

Tempted by the Hot Highland Doc

The Good Luck Hospital miniseries

Healing the Single Dad’s Heart

Just Friends to Just Married?

And look out for the next book

Just Friends to Just Married?

Available now

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Healing the Single Dad’s Heart & Just Friends to Just Married?

Scarlet Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90192-9

HEALING THE SINGLE DAD’S HEART & JUST FRIENDS TO JUST MARRIED?

Healing the Single Dad’s Heart © 2019 Scarlet Wilson Just Friends to Just Married? © 2019 Scarlet Wilson

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Healing the Single Dad’s Heart

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Just Friends to Just Married?

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

About the Publisher

Healing the Single Dad’s Heart

Scarlet Wilson

He never meant to love again…

…until he goes to Vietnam!

In this The Good Luck Hospital story, widower Scottish GP Joe and his young son are in Vietnam for a fresh start. Volunteering at a humanitarian hospital, Joe is surprised by how quickly he feels at home—which could have something to do with beautiful, intriguing Dr. Lien, his colleague and unofficial tour guide. With her, Joe glimpses a tantalizing future…if he can let go of the past.

To Auntie Margaret who, thirty-six books in,

is still reading and recommending

every one of my books to her friends!

CHAPTER ONE

ON PAPER, THE journey had seemed so long. But for Joe it had been a blink-and-you’ve-missed-it kind of day. Go and show your little boy a part of the world where you can make some new memories. That was what his mother had said to him as she’d handed him the plane tickets to Vietnam.

She had been right. He’d known she was right. And that she was finally giving him the push he needed.

After that, everything had passed in a blur. Getting all their vaccinations, finishing up at work, packing, handing over his house keys to a letting agency and making sure all his mail was redirected to his mother’s house.

By the time he’d sat down on the plane he had been well and truly ready for a rest. But his stomach had had other ideas. It had fluttered in a weird kind of way. It had been so long since he’d felt excitement about something he almost hadn’t recognised the sensation.

Regan had loved the journey. Between watching movies, eating snacks, sleeping and asking questions he’d been a great travelling companion. And now, as they came in to land at Hanoi airport Regan stared in wonder at the green landscape. ‘It’s just like home!’ he said with a smile.

Joe couldn’t stop the ache in his heart. This whole trip was about moving on. He got that. Inside he was ready—up until now he just hadn’t quite managed to take the steps. But every now and then Regan did something—it could be a wave of his hand or a look in his eye—that reminded him of Esther. He’d never push away the ache that came from knowing she couldn’t see this—couldn’t share this moment and be proud of their son and the bright, brave little boy he was becoming.

Joe leaned over and stared out of the window too. He’d half expected to see a city landscape but it seemed Hanoi landing strips were just as green as Glasgow’s. Maybe this place would be more familiar than he expected.

The airport was filled with a melee of people. Joe held tightly to Regan’s hand as they navigated through passport control and collected their luggage. A guy dressed in a white shirt and casual trousers was leaning against a pillar, holding a piece of paper with their names hastily scrawled in black on it.

Dr Joe Lennox and son

He juggled pulling the cases while still keeping hold of Regan as he gave the guy a nod. Around him a dozen languages were being spoken. He just prayed this guy spoke a little English.

‘Dr Joe?’ the guy asked.

He nodded again. The guy held out his hand. ‘Rudi. I’m your ride to the May Mắn Hospital.’ He grabbed hold of the two cases and started walking quickly to the exit. ‘From Scotland?’ he said over his shoulder.

Joe nodded again and bent to pick up Regan, lengthening his strides to keep up.

‘I know all the football teams. Which is your favourite?’

Joe laughed. It didn’t matter where he went on the planet, Scotland was known for its football and most conversations started off this way.

It didn’t take them long to hit hectic traffic. It seemed the whole world travelled by scooter or motorbike in Hanoi. Regan was tired and tucked in under Joe’s arm, snuggling against his chest.

For the briefest of seconds Joe had a moment of doubt. What if Regan didn’t like it here? He didn’t have his grandparents for reassurance. This was completely different from anything Regan had experienced before. As he brushed his hand over his son’s soft hair, he had a flashback to Esther. Regan shared his mother’s adventurous spirit. No matter what they tried, Regan tended to jump in with both feet. Like most young boys he was fearless. And that made Joe’s heart swell. He didn’t ever want his son to lose that element.

After half an hour Joe couldn’t resist winding down the window in the car to let the sounds and smells of the city surround them. The first thing that struck him was how busy the place was, how packed in everything looked, from people to shops to transport to homes.

Colour was everywhere. They drove by a row of shops with red, blue and yellow awnings, while packed above, almost squashed together, were flats.

One was in pink brick, with a balcony on each level, next door was white, with plants trailing down towards the awning beneath, next was the thinnest block of flats he’d ever seen, its first balcony entirely taken up with a dining table and chairs. Next came a pale blue block, littered with children’s toys, then a flat of unknown colour because green foliage completely covered the roof and the outside walls.

It was like a higgledy-piggledy town constructed from a kid’s set of building blocks, and it was utterly charming. The area in front of the shops was packed with street vendors, food carts, a variety of tourist souvenirs and brightly coloured long-sleeved shirts. A tiny part of the chaos of the stalls reminded him of the Barrowlands back home in Glasgow. He smiled as he wondered if the street vendors here used as colourful language as the guys back home.

The driver pointed out places as they drove into the Ba Dinh district—then into the French quarter. The French Colonial architecture was evident all around them, but as they passed through, it was clear they were moving further away from the more tourist-oriented areas and out towards the suburbs. It was denser here, street vendors everywhere, but poverty was evident at every turn. A little prickle ran down his spine. Again, it reminded him of home. His GP surgery served one of the most deprived areas of Glasgow.

Children were running happily through the streets, and even though they were still in the city, strips of green occasionally showed. The taxi turned down a slightly wider street. The houses were different here, not as packed in as before. These looked like private residences, each with a little more ground around them.

The taxi driver pulled up in front of a large, pale yellow two-storey French colonial-style house that was a little shabby around the edges. There was a sign just above the door: ‘May Mắn Hospital’. The driver turned and smiled, gesturing at the sign and getting out to open the door for them. Joe lifted Regan into his arms and stepped out, letting the close, warm air surround him. ‘Bit of a temperature change from Scotland,’ he said quietly to himself, turning his head from side to side to take in his surroundings.

There were several similar-style buildings. What once must have been residences seemed to have been converted. Two appeared to be restaurants, another a hotel. It was clear that once the houses had been very grand, though now they all looked a bit run-down. Paintwork was a little faded, some shutters on the windows slightly crooked, and most of the houses gave a general air of tiredness. The only thing that seemed bright was the sign above the door: May Mắn Hospital.

The driver collected their cases from the boot and followed him up the steps to the hospital entrance. He walked through the wide double doors and stopped.

A wave of familiarity swept over him. The smell, the buzz—something he hadn’t felt in six months, maybe even longer. Working as a GP wasn’t the same as working in a hospital, and the crazy thing about hospitals the world over was that, in some respects, they were all the same.

It didn’t matter about the facilities, the climate or the time. The smell of disinfectant, the quiet hum of voices and brisk footsteps made him take a deep breath and let the edges of his mouth turn upwards.

He had missed this. No matter how much he tried to pretend he hadn’t. Joe had wanted to be a doctor since he was a kid, and for the last six months…

He swallowed. He’d been working. But he hadn’t been enjoying it. He hadn’t loved the job the way he’d once done.

And even though he knew nothing about this place or these people, this felt right.

There was a noise to his right. ‘Can I help you?’

He turned to see a woman at his side. She’d spoken English to him. She could obviously tell he wasn’t from around here. ‘I’m supposed to meet Nguyen Van Khiem, or Nguyen Van Hoa,’ he said, trying to say the names in the right order. ‘The two doctors that run this place.’

As he spun around to face her, she caught sight of the bundle in his arms. ‘Oh,’ she said, taking a step back in surprise. She blinked then took a breath.

For a second the air was still between them. He could see the surprise on her pretty face. He obviously wasn’t quite what she’d expected. But as his eyes took in her dark hair and eyes, the barest hint of make-up and straight white teeth, he realised that this wasn’t quite what he’d expected either. His mother had told him the hospital was run by an older couple with fifty years of experience between them.

The woman spoke. ‘You must be the new doctor. Khiem and Hoa told me you should arrive today.’ She tilted her head as she tried to catch a look at Regan, who was snuggled into his father’s shoulder. ‘This must be… Regan, isn’t it?’

Now he was intrigued. Who was this woman who’d obviously paid attention to the new arrival?

She was a little shorter than him, with shiny dark brown hair tied back with a clip at her neck. She was wearing a pink shirt and black trousers that showed off her neat waist.

She held out her hand towards him. ‘I’m Lien—one of the other doctors that works here.’ Her smile was broad and reached her dark eyes. He must have been looking at her curiously because she filled in the blanks. ‘Dang Van Lien,’ she said, giving her name in full. ‘But the people around here just call me Dr Lien.’

He gave a nod, trying to familiarise himself with saying the family name first. Her handshake was warm and firm. He liked that. She was still holding his hand while she spoke.

‘Khiem and Hoa have been called away. They’re sorry they couldn’t be here to meet you. Come with me. I guess you’ll want to put the little guy down.’ She reached over and grabbed the handle of both suitcases before he had a chance to stop her and tugged them along behind her.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asked as he followed her down the corridor, wondering if everything was going to stop before it even started. He was surprised the doctors who had employed him weren’t here. ‘Where did they have to go?’

She nodded her head. ‘They’ve had to go to one of the other hospitals. It’s a few hundred kilometres away, and some of the staff have taken ill. They’ll probably be away for the next few weeks.’ For a small woman, she had surprisingly long strides. He didn’t even get a chance to really see the facilities before she’d led him out the back of the building and pointed to one of three smaller houses set in the grounds at the back. She shot him a smile. ‘We’re lucky. Good staff facilities here.’

It seemed that the slightly shabby colonial-style house had been hiding some secrets. The grounds at the back were bigger than he would have expected. He hid a smile, likening it to walking into the Tardis in Dr Who. There were green bushes, some trees and the three individual white houses set just far enough away from each other to give some privacy. Each of the houses had a different coloured front door, one yellow, one blue and one lilac.

She led him over to the house with the blue door, swinging it open and flicking a switch. She picked up the key that was hanging on a hook behind the door. ‘Here you go,’ she said as she handed it over.

A warm glow filled the small space. It was cosy. Nowhere near as big as his house back home. There was a small red sofa in the main room and a table with two chairs, then a neat kitchen set in the back. With a smile Lien showed him the two compact bedrooms, both beds covered with mosquito nets, and bathroom.

It didn’t matter that the space was small. There was something about the furnishings and decor that made it welcoming. He laid Regan carefully down on the white bedspread, ensured the mosquito net was in place, then paused for a second and pulled something from Regan’s small backpack. He didn’t want Regan to wake up with nothing familiar around him.

The picture frame held two pictures of Esther. In one, shortly after delivery, she was pale, holding Regan wrapped in a white blanket, and in the other Esther was much brighter—it was taken a year before her diagnosis with acute myeloid leukaemia and Regan said it was his favourite picture of his mum. In it she was laughing on a beach as her blonde hair blew in her eyes. Joe’s fingers hovered over the photo as he placed it on the bed next to Regan’s head and backed out of the room, leaving the door open.

‘I need a story,’ Regan whispered with his eyes still closed.

Joe looked at the stuffed-full cases and Lien caught his gaze. She gave a little shrug. ‘I have a never-ending stack of stories. Why don’t you let me tell him one while you try to get yourself settled?’

Something inside him twinged. Telling Regan a bedtime story had been part of their bedtime routine for the last four years. He was tired himself, though, his brain not really computing what time of day it was. Fatigue told him that it might be nice for Regan to hear a story that wasn’t one of those he’d repeated time and time again over the years. New stories were in short supply. ‘That’s really kind of you,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem,’ said Lien as she sat at the edge of Regan’s bed and launched into a story about dragons.

Joe was actually sad that Regan was so sleepy. He would relish a story like this. Still, it gave him time to open their cases and find their toiletries and some clothes for the next day, along with their mosquito repellent. Everything else could wait.

Lien appeared next to him just as he was trying to shake the creases out of a shirt. ‘He’s gone,’ she said quietly. ‘I think he was halfway there when I started.’

Lien moved over to the kitchen. ‘Tea?’ she asked, holding up a pair of cups. She opened the fridge and a few cupboards. ‘Don’t worry, Hoa has filled the fridge and cupboards with some staples for you.’

‘She has? That was kind of her.’

Lien gestured to the red sofa. ‘Sit down. You must be tired.’ She gave him a curious look. ‘Scotland? Isn’t it? You’ve come along way.’

Joe relaxed down onto the sofa. It was just as comfortable as it looked. He watched as Lien moved easily around the kitchen, boiling water and preparing the tea. The smell drifting towards him was distinctly floral. This wasn’t the strong black tea he was used to in Scotland.

A few minutes later Lien handed him the steaming cup of pale yellow liquid. He tried to give an unobtrusive sniff. ‘What kind of tea is this?’

She settled next to him, her leg brushing against his jeans. ‘The best kind, jasmine. Haven’t you tried it before?’

It smelled like perfume, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud, so he balanced the cup on his lap and turned a little to face her. ‘Thanks for this. You didn’t need to.’

‘I did.’ She grinned, eyes glinting as she sipped her own tea. ‘It’s bribery. I’m just trying to make sure you’ll be fit to work tomorrow. The jasmine tea should relax you a little, and hopefully you’ll get some sleep and your body clock will adjust.’

He nodded. ‘Ah, bribery. Now I understand.’

She gestured with her hand to the window in front of them. It looked back over to the main building. ‘Tomorrow will be busy, a baptism of fire.’ She pulled a face and gave a shrug. ‘There’s some kind of norovirus bug out there right now. We’re getting lots of dehydrated kids and adults.’

Joe shuddered. ‘Norovirus. Perfect.’

He waited a second then gave her another curious look. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘All my life,’ she replied simply. ‘Born and brought up in Hanoi. Trained here, then spent a year in Washington and another in Dublin.’ She gave him a smile. ‘I wanted to see the world.’

‘But you came back?’

She hesitated for a second. ‘Of course. I trained with Duc. He’s Khiem and Hoa’s son. This local hospital has been here since I was kid. They opened it with some money they inherited, and have kept it running ever since.’

‘The government doesn’t pay?’

She pulled a face. ‘They make a contribution. Hanoi has a population of over six million…’ she let out a laugh ‘…with nearly as many motorbikes. The government is trying to get a handle on our health system, but it’s nowhere near as robust as the system in the UK. In most circumstances, you still have to pay to see a doctor in Vietnam.’

‘And can the people around here pay?’

She shook her head and held out both hands. ‘That’s why we’re here. We offer free healthcare to anyone who attends. Immunisations for kids. Prenatal health care for mothers. And anything else too.’

Now he’d sat down he realised his bones were actually aching, along with every muscle in his shoulders. Travelling did that to you. The aroma from the tea was strong, vibrant. He took a sip of the hot liquid and tried to let his taste buds acclimatise. He was conscious of the fact that Lien’s dark eyes were watching him carefully.

He held up the cup. ‘Not too bad.’

She shot him a suspicious glance. ‘Well, get used to it. Jasmine tea and iced coffee are the norm around here.’

He lifted one hand to give his tired eyes a rub. ‘Your English is great. I’m a bit worried about tomorrow. Let’s just say I’m not entirely fluent in Vietnamese. I’ve learned a few words, but I couldn’t hold a proper conversation.’

She shook her head and waved a hand. ‘Don’t worry. We have a full-time interpreter in the hospital. She’ll normally be around to help you. A number of our nurses are bilingual too. You should manage fine.’

She nodded towards the bedroom. ‘Have you made arrangements for your son?’

He glanced to the little sleeping figure on the bed. ‘Yes, I’ve registered him at the international school just a few streets over. Khiem had sent me details about it. I’ve to take him there tomorrow—just before eight.’

‘Perfect, it has a good reputation. I’m sure he’ll like it.’

She paused once more. ‘Khiem said you’re here for six months.’

It was a statement, but she said the words like a question. He tried not to let his doubt show on his face. ‘That’s how long I’ve taken time off work back home. We needed…’ he hesitated, trying to find the right words ‘…a change of scene. Regan is due to start school back home in six months, so I plan on taking him back for that.’ He looked around, realising he hadn’t set eyes on any other staff members. ‘Does Khiem and Hoa’s son work here too?’

Lien laughed. ‘Not if he can help it. No, Duc has been lured to the dark side.’ She said the words with good humour.

‘What do you mean?’

She gave a small shrug. ‘He’s still doing his round-the-world tour. Getting experience wherever he can. He’s a surgeon. This place wouldn’t be for him.’

Now Joe was curious at the first part of her answer. ‘You said you did the same.’

She put her hand to her chest. ‘I just went to two places. That was enough. Got the experience I needed then brought it back here.’

There was something about the way she said those words. He got the impression she was either slightly exasperated by her friend’s continued travels, or that she didn’t quite approve, but was far too polite to say those words out loud.

‘You always wanted to work back here?’

She met his gaze, her brown eyes sincere. ‘This is home. I trained to be a doctor to take care of the people that I love.’ She held out her hands and gave a soft smile. ‘And the people I love are here.’

Something twisted inside his chest. She was talking about herself. He knew that. He understood it. Though he couldn’t help but feel the imaginary punch to the guts. He hadn’t been able to help the one he loved. There wasn’t anything he could have done to save Esther. He’d picked apart every element of her diagnosis and treatment a million times in the long sleepless nights after her death.

As his stomach twisted, Lien gave him a look. She glanced between him and the sleeping form of Regan. ‘Why Vietnam?’

Two words. But he knew she was asking so much more.

He swallowed, wishing the tea wasn’t quite so scalding so he could gulp it down.

He took a deep breath. He hated it that he’d got used to telling people that Esther had died, seeing their pitying glances or slight discomfort.

‘My mother chose it for us,’ he said with a rueful smile.

Her brow wrinkled. ‘What?’

He lifted one hand and ran it through his hair. A wave of tiredness had just hit him, and he really hoped that bathroom had a shower that he could hit soon. He relaxed back against the sofa. He was too tired for anything but honesty. He didn’t have the energy to dress things up.

‘My wife died three years ago. It had always been our intention to travel, to show Regan the world, and my mother…’ he gave a slow nod of his head ‘…decided we both needed a change of scene.’ He held up one hand. ‘Vietnam was one of the places on the wish list.’

‘Your wish list, or your wife’s?’ She hadn’t rushed in with an immediate offer of condolence, instead she’d asked an unexpected question.

He shifted a little on the sofa and gave her an interested look. ‘It was mine actually. I always wanted to come and work here at some point, it just kind of…fell off my radar.’ He paused for a second. ‘A lot of things did,’ he added quietly.

Lien fixed her eyes back towards the bedroom. ‘That’s understandable. You had to change your priorities. Becoming mum and dad to a little boy can’t have been easy.’

He turned to face her again. He liked this woman. She was direct. They’d only just met but she seemed to read him well. For the last few years people had tiptoed around him instead of having actual conversations with him, just giving him sympathetic glances or a squeeze of an arm.

He closed his eyes for a second and breathed in the warm air of Vietnam. He’d had doubts the whole way here, but now, for the first time, this actually felt like the right move. He smiled.

‘Regan makes it easy,’ he said. ‘I’m lucky.’ He shot her a sideways glance. ‘I know what happened wasn’t lucky, but I still have a part of her. I can see her every day in our son. From a gesture, a look, even his laugh. And I know she would be proud of the little guy.’ He let out a deep breath. ‘I just hope that this was the right move, at the right time, and Regan will love it here.’

Lien gave an understanding nod as she took a final sip of her tea. ‘There’s lots to love here, it’s a great hospital, and great staff. If you need a hand from any of your colleagues, all you have to do is ask.’

He gave a nod of thanks. The words were reassuring. This was the first time he and Regan had been away from their extended family, and the added complication of Khiem and Hoa not being here when they’d arrived had given him a moment of concern.

He looked back at Lien. ‘At the entrance…’ he gave a little smile ‘…you were expecting someone…different?’

Her smile was gentle in return. She knew she’d been caught out. She gave a nod. ‘From the description Khiem gave me I was expecting someone…older.’ He could see the compassion and warmth in her eyes. ‘But you’ll do, Dr Joe. You’ll do.’ She patted him on the shoulder as she stood up and pointed to the fridge.

There was something about the way she said those words that sent a little buzz through his body. The nod of approval meant everything to him and he couldn’t quite work out why. Maybe it was the journey, the distance, the unknown. Whatever it was, he could already tell that Lien was someone he could work with. She’d asked a lot of questions tonight and he hadn’t really had the opportunity to ask much in return. He was intrigued. He already wanted to know more about his colleague but Lien was talking again.

‘There are noodles, vegetables and pork in there. The wok is in the cupboard to the side of the cooker. If you’re hungry, you should be able to rustle something up.’ She lifted her cup and walked over with it to the sink. ‘I can show you where the market is tomorrow if you need to get some other things. It’s not too far.’

He stood up quickly, remembering his manners.

‘If you need anything, I’m just in the house next door.’

‘You are? Which one is yours?’

‘Khiem and Hoa stay in the one with the yellow door, and I’m in the lilac one.’

He gave a nod as she opened the door, then realised something. ‘Darn it, I haven’t even looked around the hospital properly yet.’

Lien waved her hand as she strolled away. ‘Plenty of time for that tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.’ She gave him a bright smile as she headed towards the house with the lilac door, her hair bouncing as she walked.

He gave a little shake of his head. He’d been worried. Maybe even a tiny bit scared. But Lien seemed like she could be a good colleague. He looked around the house. It was compact but had everything they needed. Six months.

Six months of something completely and utterly different. And for the second time since his mother had handed him the tickets, he felt a wave of emotion that this time he could recognise. Excitement.

Lien closed the door behind her. Maybe she’d been too direct—too forward. Truth was, she was a little on edge. Khiem and Hoa had expected to be here, but the phone call from the other hospital had meant they’d had to leave at short notice. Joe didn’t realise it yet, but it actually meant that they’d be two doctors down for the next few weeks. Lien hadn’t been joking about the bribery.

She pulled the clip from her hair and gave her head a shake. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t a bit intrigued by the new Scottish doctor. She’d had to concentrate hard at some points when he’d been speaking. Did he realise just how quickly he sometimes spoke, and how the words just seemed to all run into one?

She’d noticed his fingers hovering near the picture he’d placed next to Regan. It was clear it was pictures of his wife. Was he really ready to be here?

She sighed. They’d had doctors here for six months at a time before. The last doctor from Germany had been suffering from mental health problems that had come to a head while he’d been here. A female doctor had come to Vietnam without declaring her drug addiction—something that had quickly become evident. Another colleague had appeared from the US, romanced his way around the staff in the hospital, then left abruptly after three months. Turned out he’d left a wife back home he’d forgotten to tell anyone about.

All three of those doctors had been escaping something, running away from something. It sounded very much like Joe Lennox was doing something similar. Would he really last six months? Because she needed him to. The hospital needed some stability. Sad as his story was, the last thing they needed was another doctor with problems of his own who would leave because he discovered the experience in Vietnam wasn’t what he wanted.

She started stripping off her clothes as she headed to the shower. She’d have to help him out as much as she could—particularly until his little boy was settled in the international school. If Joe got cold feet he might decide to get on the first plane home to Scotland. She believed him when he said he’d needed a change. But the fact he’d been honest enough to say his mother had pushed him in this direction bothered her. Was he really ready for this? She hadn’t seen his CV. She had no idea what his previous experience was. Khiem and Hoa did all the recruitment and she trusted their judgement. If they thought he’d fit in, then she had to believe that.

But the truth was, it wasn’t his skills she was worried about. It was more his heart and his head. If his head was somewhere else he could make mistakes, and if his heart wasn’t in it, he wouldn’t want to stay.

Something twisted in her chest.

This place meant everything to her.

For lots of the residents in Hanoi, this was their only accessible healthcare. Yes, services were pushed. Yes, they didn’t always have all the supplies that they needed. But she was determined that this place would always serve the population that needed it.

People like her, and her family.

This was her city, her people.

And no matter how much empathy she had for the new doctor’s circumstances, he had better be prepared to pull his weight around here.

CHAPTER TWO

LIEN WAS WAITING for him when he arrived back after dropping Regan at the school. He’d obviously been nervous about leaving his son at the strange school in an unfamiliar city, but the place had given him good vibes. The nursery teacher had shown them into a bright, welcoming environment filled with a host of happy-looking children chattering in different languages.

Regan had tugged at his hand after a few minutes, anxious to go and join in the fun, so Joe had left with reassurances that they would call the hospital if there were any concerns.

By the time he got back to the hospital it was a few minutes before eight o’clock. Already the place was a hive of activity. The waiting room had only a few seats left. Lien was wearing a pale blue shirt and navy trousers, and her hair was in a ponytail again. There was no sign of the traditional white coat.

He’d swithered for a few moments this morning over what to wear, before settling on a pair of dark trousers and a simple short-sleeved white shirt. The temperature here was much warmer than he was used to, and he wasn’t sure if the hospital had air-conditioning or not. He hadn’t noticed last night. He gave a sniff. He wasn’t quite used to the aroma of the insect repellent he’d covered both himself and Regan in this morning. Maybe he should have tried to drown it out with more aftershave?

Lien gave him a brief nod as he walked back through the main entrance. ‘Good. Is Regan settled?’

He gave a brief nod and she started speaking again straight away. ‘Come with me, and I’ll give you a walk around. I’ll show you our systems and our supplies and when Mai Ahn, our translator, gets here, I’ll assign her to you for the rest of the day.’ She walked him over to a sink and started washing her hands. He quickly followed suit. She’d already mentioned norovirus problems. Hand washing was one of the key practices to help prevent the spread.

Joe barely had time to draw breath. ‘First thing,’ Lien said as she kept scrubbing her hands, ‘you should really wear long sleeves. If your shirts are too warm, I’ll show you a place where you can buy some lighter weight clothing. Do you have your insect repellent on?’

He nodded and she kept talking. ‘With Khiem and Hoa away, we’re two doctors down. I can’t afford for our latest recruit to pick up something from a mosquito bite.’

It felt like a bit of a reprimand and he wasn’t quite sure how to react, but Lien was already talking again. ‘Hoa covered antenatal and maternity care, so we’ll all have to pick up her role while she’s gone.’

Joe didn’t miss the way that she’d phrased that. She hadn’t asked him about his experience, or if he was happy to cover this area. She was letting him know what was expected of him. It seemed her directness last night hadn’t been unusual but the norm.

As they finished scrubbing their hands she kept talking while she dried hers. ‘Okay, I’m sure you’ve done some general reading on the health issues in Vietnam.’ She shot him a sideways glance. ‘Or at least I hope you have.’

He nodded quickly. ‘Of course. Main issues are malaria, tuberculosis, HIV and AIDS, with some cases of dengue fever and ongoing issues with Agent Orange.’

She gave an appreciative nod and held out her hands. ‘Biggest killer of kids in our area is malnutrition, coupled with diarrhoea and vomiting. They have no extra fat layers to fall back on. It hits hard and fast.’

‘So a norovirus outbreak is your worst nightmare?’

‘Pretty much.’

She led him down one corridor and then up a set of stairs. ‘Okay, downstairs is basically our clinic area. Upstairs we have six four-bed rooms with a variety of patients. Children and adults.’ He could see how the layout of the traditional colonial house had been adapted to work as a hospital. There were a number of nursing staff upstairs to whom she introduced him quickly. The staff seemed friendly, and the patients well-cared-for. Most were on IVs. Lien caught his gaze.

‘We have a mixture of dehydration in both the young and the elderly. Lots of chest complaints too. Anyone suffering from diarrhoea is cared for separately in one of the single rooms at the other end of the corridor.’

Joe nodded. He’d known whole hospital wards closed because of winter vomiting bugs. They couldn’t ignore, or not treat, people affected, but, because it was infectious, it had a real chance of being passed to other patients or staff. Hygiene issues had to be the top priority.

‘Anyone today that you’re worried about?’

She gave him a half-smile. ‘I’ve already done a ward round this morning, but we’ll do another one later so you can familiarise yourself with the patients. Today we start downstairs at the clinic.’

They washed their hands again, and moved back down the stairs.

Downstairs was separated into four areas. One was a general waiting room, one was for children, one for pregnant women and a fourth for X-rays, with a plaster room next door. It was a real mixed bag. A kind of cross between a GP surgery and community hospital back in Scotland.

Lien gave a little sigh as she showed him into an office and gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite her. ‘We have a real mixture of antenatal care. Only around sixty per cent of women in Vietnam attend antenatal care. Some women don’t present until late in pregnancy. Others present early, requesting their pregnancy be monitored all the way through for birth defects. It’s not unheard of for a pregnant woman in Vietnam to have up to twenty scans.’

Joe’s eyebrows shot upwards. The norm for the UK was two, unless there were any concerns. Something clicked in his brain. ‘Agent Orange?’

She nodded.

‘How often nowadays do women present with birth defects?’

Lien’s face was serious. ‘It’s more prevalent now in the south of Vietnam, but forty years on there are still children affected here. The spray that was used to destroy the crops obviously went into the soil. Poverty is a major issue in Vietnam and some families are solely reliant on growing their own foods. They have no other option but to eat the food they grow—whether the soil is damaged or not.’

She shook her head. ‘We have two other hospitals. One is in the outskirts of the city of Uông Bí city, in northeast Vietnam, and the other—the one Duc’s parents have just gone to—is in Trà Bồng District in the south of the country. At that one, we also take care of the kids in the nearby orphanage. A lot of them are affected. There’s poverty across Vietnam, just like there’s poverty in every country in the world, but it’s worse down in the south. Down there, families are reliant on farming. If their crops fail, it’s disaster for them. A lot of them rely on their kids to work alongside them. If their kids are affected by Agent Orange, or any other genetic or medical condition, often the family can’t afford to keep them.’

‘So they end up in the orphanage?’ Joe asked.

‘Exactly. We offer free medical care to the orphanage. Things have improved in the last few years, but we still aren’t where we should be.’

‘Sometimes I forget how lucky we are in the UK. Yes, things aren’t perfect. But the healthcare part of the job generally always gets done.’ He gave a slow nod. ‘And the first hospital you mentioned?’

‘The other is in Uông Bí in Quang Ninh province, in northeast Vietnam, more towards the coast. We’ll cover both hospitals at some point in the next six months—generally just for a week or two to cover holidays.’

‘Okay.’ He was beginning to get a general feel for the place, for the sort of patients he’d be seeing, and the kind of responsibilities he’d have here. None of it seemed beyond his ability, though he’d have to do a bit more background reading on some treatments.

Lien ran through the paperwork they used, how to order tests and their prescribing arrangements. She handed him a pre-printed list with Vietnamese names for some of the more commonly used drugs. It was clear she’d familiarised foreign doctors with the clinic workings before.

Joe leaned on one hand. Everything seemed straightforward enough. ‘This place,’ he said, ‘it’s like a cross between a community clinic, a cottage hospital and an ER.’

Lien was watching him with careful eyes. He couldn’t quite work out what was going on in her mind. He was sure she was part vetting him, part examining his motives. It was only natural. She was looking for someone she could rely on. Having to check another doctor’s practices would be almost as bad as not having a colleague at all. ‘Let’s hope you don’t have to cover it all at once,’ she said softly.

He could see the flash of worry in her eyes. But the only way to earn the trust of a colleague was to prove himself. Joe was willing to do that. Back home everyone trusted him in his current role, but he wasn’t back home any more. He was in an entirely different country, and while some health needs would be the same, there were others he’d need to query, and Joe wasn’t too proud to do that. He would never put patients at risk.

‘Where do you want me?’

Lien’s eyes brightened at the question. Was that relief he’d just spotted? ‘What do you prefer?’ she asked. ‘I need someone to cover the children’s clinic, and someone to cover the adult clinic.’

He gave a nod. The clinic work, whether it was for children or adults, would be very much like his GP role back home. He shot her a smile. ‘Happy to do either.’ Then met her gaze. ‘Put me wherever I can be of most use.’

She shifted a little in her chair, caught off guard at his words. He almost let his smile broaden. She liked being straightforward and so did he. ‘I’m not here to be a hindrance, Lien, I’m here to be a help.’

She reached up and brushed an errant strand of brown hair behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail. She was close enough that he could see just how smooth her skin was. She wore very little make-up. But she didn’t need any, her dark hair and eyes complemented her appearance beautifully. In another life, in another place, he would definitely have looked twice.

It had been so long since a thought like that had even entered his head that he automatically frowned. What was wrong with him? Where had that come from?

Lien tilted her head. ‘Something wrong?’

He shook his head too quickly. ‘No, nothing.’ He pushed himself up from the chair. ‘Where do you want me?’ He was anxious to get this day started.

The few seconds of silence was slightly uncomfortable. He flashed back to being a junior doctor and the nurse in charge of the ward shooting him a glance to say she doubted he should even actually touch a patient.

A figure appeared in the doorway and Lien stood up. ‘Perfect. Mai Ahn, this is Joe. Joe, this is Mai Ahn, your interpreter. She’ll help you with the children’s clinic.’

‘Children’s clinic it is,’ he said with a nod, before reaching out to shake hands with Mai Ahn. ‘Lead the way.’

She was unsure of him. Of course she was. Did he even notice he occasionally glanced at his mobile clipped onto his belt? It was only natural that he was worried about how his son was settling in on his first day of nursery, she only hoped it wouldn’t distract him from the job he had to do.

The children’s clinic wasn’t for the faint-hearted.

She couldn’t help but be automatically protective of the place she loved working in. At least he’d been honest last night. He’d told her that he and his son needed a change after losing his wife. He’d said it had been three years. But she’d seen the glint of pain in his eyes. Was he really ready to move on?

She still had doubts.

It was a shame. Because he was undoubtedly handsome. The burr of the Scots accent was almost melodic—even though she had to concentrate hard. And it was clear that he doted on his son. Just as she’d expect him to.

She gave herself a shake. It was a ridiculous observation. She was used to doctors coming here on short-term contracts, and she’d never considered any kind of relationship. She was too busy. Too dedicated to her work. She’d had her heart broken once, and that was enough for her.

Too poor. Not the words he’d used, but those were the words he’d meant. Lien had never pretended to be anything she wasn’t. As a child she’d always been well mannered and as well presented as she could be. She’d been bright, and her teachers had noticed. They’d encouraged her to study hard, and eventually helped her to seek out scholarships so she could attend medical school.

At medical school she’d got along with most of her classmates. Reuben had come from a rich family in another city. He’d never asked her where she lived—he’d just made assumptions. Then, when he’d found out, after two years, she’d been dumped quicker than a hot brick.

Her family was proud of her, and she was of them. She’d hated the way it had made her feel. Not good enough. Not rich enough.

She came from one of the poorest areas in the city. Her family still lived there—no matter how much she’d tried to assist them since she’d qualified as a doctor. But even now they wouldn’t accept any financial help from her.

They liked where they lived. They still worked hard. They didn’t want change, in any form.

Lien lifted the pile of patient notes from the desk. They were all people who were due back at the clinic today to be reviewed.

One of the nurses gave her a smile as she walked into the waiting room. There were already ten people waiting. She gave a nod of her head and smiled, speaking in Vietnamese. ‘Okay, who is first?’

The only person having trouble concentrating today was her. She kept casting her eyes through to the other waiting room. She knew that Mai Ahn, the interpreter, would come and find her if he had any concerns. But she didn’t. Instead, she saw an occasional glance of Joe carrying babies and toddlers through to the examination room for assessment or vaccinations. Through Mai Ahn, he chatted to the mothers. Most of them seemed happy to talk to him and from the looks on their faces the Scottish doctor was proving a hit.

After a few hours he came through and knocked on her door.

‘Lien, can we have a chat about a child?’

She nodded, pleased that he’d come to talk to her.

‘I think I’ve got a little one with complications of tuberculosis. I can’t find any previous notes, and there’s no X-ray.’ His brow wrinkled. ‘Don’t most babies get immunised against tuberculosis shortly after birth?’

‘They should. Unfortunately, tuberculosis is common around here. If babies are born in hospital they are immunised if the parents consent. But not all babies are born in hospitals. What do you think are the complications?’

He ran his hands through his hair. ‘She’s losing weight, even though she’s feeding. Her colour is poor, she’s tachycardic, and I suspect her oxygen saturation isn’t what it should be. Her lungs don’t sound as if they are filling properly. She has a temperature and a cough. I suspect a pleural effusion. Do you have a paediatric monitor I could use while I order a chest X-ray?’

Lien stood quickly and gave him a serious kind of smile. ‘Let’s do this together.’

He raised one eyebrow. ‘Don’t you trust me?’ He didn’t seem annoyed by the fact she was effectively second-guessing him. He might even have looked a little amused.

‘You asked for a second opinion, Dr Lennox. I’m going to give you one.’

The amused look stayed on his face. ‘Absolutely. I haven’t seen many kids with tuberculosis in Scotland.’

She gave a nod as they walked through to the paediatric treatment room. As soon as they reached the door, Lien could almost verify his diagnosis. She switched to Vietnamese and introduced herself to the mother and her five-year-old daughter, who was clearly sick.

Joe’s notes were thorough. Three other members of the family had active tuberculosis. Only one complied with their treatment. It was no wonder the little girl was affected.

Five minutes later they were looking at a chest X-ray. Joe was right at her shoulder. She held her breath and caught a slight whiff of the aftershave he was wearing, even though it was overshadowed by his insect repellent. She wanted to know if he’d recognise what she needed him to on the X-ray.

She needn’t have worried. He lifted one finger and pointed to the film. ‘Pleural effusion without any parenchymal lesion.’ He didn’t finish there. ‘I know there’s some mixed feelings, but because of how this little girl has presented, I would be inclined to drain the effusion rather than leaving it.’

She took a few minutes to recheck things. This was the first time he’d seen a child with tuberculosis, never mind the added complications, and he’d picked it up straight away. She couldn’t help but be impressed.

She turned to face him. ‘I think you’re right. Let’s put our public health heads on and try to persuade the rest of the family to comply with their medications. We can use a sample of the effusion to diagnose the tuberculosis. A pleural biopsy would likely be too traumatic right now.’

He nodded in agreement. She paused for a moment, wondering whether she should question his skill set any further.

‘Any experience of doing a pleural effusion in a five-year-old?’

He nodded. ‘I specialised in paediatrics before training as a GP.’ He gave her a steady look. ‘I’ve got this. But I’m happy for you to stay if you’d like.’

He didn’t seem defensive or annoyed, but it felt like a bit of a line in the sand. He already knew she’d questioned his diagnosis. Now she’d asked about his experience. Lots of other clinicians that she knew might have been annoyed by this, but Joe just seemed to have accepted her actions without any discomfort. Still, the tone in his voice had changed a little, as if he was getting a bit tired of her.

She pressed her lips together. If he’d expressed any anxiety about the situation she would have been happy to take over. But he hadn’t, and she knew it was time to step back. She had enough patients of her own to see still in the waiting room.

She glanced at the nurse and interpreter. She had confidence in both of them. Either of them would come and find her if they were worried. She tried her best to look casual. ‘I’ll leave it with you. Shout if you need anything.’

Joe watched her retreat, knowing exactly how hard it was for her. Was his counterpart a bit of a control freak? Or maybe she just second-guessed everyone she worked with?

He tried to understand, even though he couldn’t help but feel a little insulted by her lack of faith in him. It’s not like he hadn’t experienced this himself. He’d worked with plenty of other doctors, in a variety of settings over the years, and it always took a bit of time to reassure himself about a colleague’s skills and competencies.

It was clear she loved this place. She’d more or less told him that already. There was also the added responsibility of her employers not being here right now, so the well-being of May Mắn hospital was really in her hands.

He gave some instructions to the nurse, who seemed to understand his English, then knelt down beside the little girl and her mother with Mai Ahn, the interpreter, to explain what would happen next.

Thirty minutes later the procedure was complete, with some hazy yellow fluid in a specimen bottle for the lab. The little girl’s cheeks and lips had lost their duskiness, the oxygen saturation monitor showed improvement, and when he listened to her chest he could hear the improved inflation of her lung. He gave instructions to the nurse for another X-ray, and to further monitor for the next few hours.

‘I’ll come back and have a follow-up chat about the medicines,’ he said. Something came into his head. ‘Do doctors make home visits here?’

The nurse frowned for a second as if she didn’t quite understand what he’d said, then shook her head. ‘No. Never.’

Joe sat back in his chair for a moment. He didn’t want to send this child home with just a prescription in her hand. The rest of the family were important too. The mother had already told him that both her husband and father-in-law kept forgetting to take their tuberculosis meds. Only her own mother remembered. If he could just see them, and persuade them how important it was, it might stop other family members being infected. He glanced out to the waiting room. He still had a whole host of patients to see, some of whom would need vaccinations, and some might need tuberculosis testing. He went to the waiting room with Mai Ahn to call the next patient, while his idea continued to grow in his head.

‘He went where?’

Ping, one of the nurses, shrugged. ‘He talked kind of strange. Something about a home visit. Apparently they do them in Scotland a lot. He persuaded Mai Ahn to go with him.’

Lien walked over and looked at the notes, checking the address on the file, then grabbed her jacket. She’d nearly made it to the front door, when her brain started to become a bit more logical. All she was feeling right now was rage. She went back and scanned the rest of the notes, checking to see what other family members were affected. ‘Did he take prescriptions, or did he take the actual medicines?’ she asked Ping.

Ping gave her a smile as she carried on with her work and brought a single finger to her lips. ‘I couldn’t possibly say.’

Lien nearly exploded. It was obvious that the Scottish charm was already working on her staff. What on earth was he thinking? They had to account for every dose they used. They weren’t a dispensary. On a few occasions they gave out enough medicines to see a patient through the night, but they didn’t give out medicines on a regular basis.

She snatched up her bag and made her way out into the streets. It was around six now, and the pavements were filled with people making their way home from work, the streets filled with traffic. She did her best to dodge her way through the crowds and cross the few streets. The home address wasn’t too far away, but the walk did nothing to quell her temper.

By the time she’d reached the address her heart was thudding in her chest. This wasn’t exactly the best part of town. She had no idea how he’d managed to persuade Mai Ahn to bring him here, but she would make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

The house was on the second floor of an older block of flats, where each storey looked as if it squished the flats beneath it even more. She climbed the small stairwell and walked swiftly along, checking the number before she knocked on the door.

‘It’s Dr Lien, from the hospital,’ she said.

She held her breath for a few moments, and then frowned. Was that laughter she heard inside? The door creaked open and the elderly grandmother of the household gave a little bow as she ushered Lien into the house.

Lien walked through to the main room, where the majority of the family was sitting on bamboo mats on the floor, Joe amongst them.

Mai Ahn was by his side, translating rapidly as he spoke. He had laid the complicated drugs for tuberculosis out in front of the elderly grandfather, instructing Mai Ahn to draw a paper chart with dates and times.

Lien stopped the angry words that were forming in her mouth. Back when she’d worked in the US, dispensary boxes had been commonplace for patients who were on several drugs. But they weren’t widely used here at all. That was what he was doing. He was making a do-it-yourself chart and placing the individual tablets on it.

He looked up and caught her eye. ‘Lien, oh, you’re here.’ His eyes shot protectively to Mai Ahn, whose face revealed she thought she was in trouble. The little girl from earlier was sitting curled into her mother’s lap. She’d done well, had been sent home with a prescription for her own meds, and if they were administered to her, she should do well.

Joe stood up. ‘I was just explaining to the family the problems with drug resistance and how important it is to keep taking their medicines.’

There was a shout behind Lien and she turned to see another two children playing in another room. She swallowed and took a deep breath. ‘This might be common practice for Scotland, Dr Lennox, but it’s pretty unconventional for Vietnam.’

He stood up casually and shook hands with the grandfather, and then the little girl’s father, who also had a chart in front of him. He nodded towards Mai Ahn to get her to translate for him again. ‘Thank you so much for seeing me.’ He nodded to the little girl’s mother. ‘Make sure you collect that prescription tomorrow, and if you think there are any problems, feel free to come back to the clinic and see me again.’ He gestured towards the kids in the other room. ‘And remember to come in for the testing. Remember, we can vaccinate too.’

Lien didn’t know whether to be angry or impressed. He hadn’t just covered the delivery of the prescriptions, he’d covered the public health issues they’d talked about earlier, taking into account multi-resistant TB, contact tracing, further testing and immunisations.

She bowed in respect to the family and spoke a few extra words of reassurance before leading the way out of the house. She waited until the door had closed behind them, and Mai Ahn had hurried on ahead, before spinning around to face him. ‘What on earth were you thinking?’

His brow creased. ‘I was thinking about patients and their medicines. I was thinking about stopping the spread of disease.’

‘We don’t do this.’ She almost stamped her foot. ‘We don’t visit people at home.’

He held up his hands. ‘Why not? Particularly when it’s a public health issue? That mother told me back at the clinic that both the father and grandfather were struggling with their meds. You don’t need to be a doctor to know that’s how the little girl got infected. What about those other two kids? I didn’t even know about them before I got here. Are we just supposed to sit at the clinic and wait another few months until they turn up sick too?’

She could see the passion on his face. It was the first time she’d seen him worked up about anything. ‘Have you any idea about this area?’ she shot back. ‘Have you any idea about any of the areas around here—how safe they are?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Aren’t there places in Glasgow city that you shouldn’t really walk about alone?’

Now he frowned. ‘But you walked here alone,’ he said.

She threw up her hands. ‘But I’m from here,’ she emphasised. ‘You,’ she said, pointing at him, ‘are clearly not.’

She was furious and he’d obviously played this wrong.

Joe looked down at his trousers and the long-sleeved shirt he’d changed into. He knew with his tall build, pale skin and light brown hair he must stand out like a sore thumb. But instead of venting more frustration on his new workmate, he took a different tack and gave her a cheeky smile. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He watched her erupt like a volcano. ‘It’s not funny!’

Maybe he should wind it back in. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. ‘No, you’re right, it’s not. But neither is the fact that there could be two more children in that household with tuberculosis and two adults risking developing drug-resistant tuberculosis.’ He gave a sigh. ‘I’m just trying to do my job, Lien. I know things are different here. I know the systems aren’t the same as the UK. But I still want to treat patients to the best of my ability.’

There was a noise in the stairwell beneath them, and Mai Ahn rushed back up towards them with a stricken expression on her face. She muttered something to Lien, whose face became serious.

She turned swiftly. ‘Other way,’ she said quietly, pointing to the stairwell at the opposite end of the passage.

‘Something wrong?’ he asked, as the women hurried ahead of him.

Lien’s expression was a mixture of worry and anger. ‘You’ve made us a target, Joe. A Western doctor—rumoured to be carrying drugs in a poor area of town—is always going to cause problems.’

A cold shiver ran over his body. He hadn’t thought about this at all. He tried to relate this to back home. Would he have gone out alone to one of the worst areas in Glasgow? He didn’t even want to answer that question in his head, because the truth was that he had done it before, and would probably do it again. Some parts of Hanoi didn’t seem that different from Glasgow. But he hadn’t meant to put either of his new colleagues at risk. Anything he could say right now would just seem like a poor excuse. He followed them both, turning rapidly down a maze of side streets until they were back on one of the main roads.

Lien didn’t say another word to him until they reached the hospital again. A reminder sounded on his phone and he pulled it from his pocket.

‘Apologies, Lien, I need to collect Regan.’ He hesitated for a second, knowing that things couldn’t be ignored. ‘Can we talk about this later?’

Lien’s face remained stony. She gave a nod to Mai Ahn. ‘Thanks so much, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sorry about the extra work today.’

The words felt pointed. Part of him was cringing and the other part was annoyed.

Lien turned back to face him. ‘I’ll walk with you,’ she said firmly.

It was clear he was about to be told off. First day on the job and he was already in her bad books. It wasn’t the best start. He could easily defend his position, but did he really want to get onto the wrong side of his work colleague, who was also his next-door neighbour?

He decided to be direct, since Lien seemed to like that approach herself. ‘I’m sorry about today. I wasn’t aware there are areas in Hanoi that aren’t particularly safe. I shouldn’t have taken Mai Ahn with me. I’ll get a better grasp of the language soon.’

He could see her grip tightening on the handle of her shoulder bag. ‘You shouldn’t have gone at all, Dr Lennox.’ Her voice was clipped.

He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to snap back. ‘You should let me know now—since we’ll be working together for the next six months—are you always going to call me Dr Lennox when you’re mad at me, and Joe all the other times?’

She must have been expecting some kind of argument, because his response made her stumble for just a second. She stopped walking and looked him in the eye. ‘Why do you do that?’

‘Do what?’

People were stepping around them in the busy street.

‘Try and interrupt my train of thought.’

He gave a half-smile. ‘Because your train of thought was going down an angry rail. Can we pause at a station and back up a bit?’

She shook her head at his analogy.

He shrugged and held up his hands. ‘What can I say? I’m the father of a four-year-old. Train and spaceship examples are the ones that usually work.’

She closed her eyes for a second. Her grip on the bag was becoming less pinched. When she opened her eyes again, her pupils were wide. ‘You don’t get it,’ she sighed. ‘The staff and patients at the hospital are my responsibility. Mine.’ She put her hand on her chest. ‘Can you imagine if I had to phone Khiem and Hoa and tell them that our new doctor had been attacked on his first real day of work and now wanted to head back home to Scotland?’

His hands went to his hips. ‘Do you really think I’m the kind of guy to leave at the first hurdle?’

Her gaze was steady but sympathetic, and he could tell from that glance alone that she did think that about him. Disappointment swelled in his chest. Her voice was hushed on the crowded street. ‘What if that first hurdle results in Regan having no parents?’

He flinched as if she’d just thrown something at him. The words were harsh. They were also something that he hadn’t even considered.

Ever. He’d spent the first year after Esther had died wrapping his son in cotton wool, worrying about every minor accident, rash or childhood sniffle. In every thought his worst-case scenario had always been about something happening to Regan—not about something happening to him.

He stood for a second, not quite sure how to respond, and then he just started walking, lengthening his strides as he hurried to reach the nursery.

All of a sudden he had to set eyes on his son again. He’d already paid a quick visit at lunchtime, spending his break time with his son and making sure he was settled and happy in his new nursery school. But that had been five hours ago.

Lien walked in short, brisk steps alongside him. If she was struggling to keep up she didn’t complain.

‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘That came out a bit…’

‘Wrong?’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘Direct,’ she countered.

‘Is crime around here really that bad?’ he asked. His brain was whirring. He’d read a lot about Vietnam before coming here—although most of what he’d read had been health related. He couldn’t remember reading anything about crime.

‘No,’ she admitted. ‘Hanoi isn’t any worse than any other major city. But home visits by doctors are just not done here. Particularly when the doctor might be taking out medicines to patients. Surely you can see that if word got about, it could be dangerous for you, and for anyone around you.’

He wasn’t happy. ‘So you exaggerated?’

She pressed her lips together. ‘I protected my staff,’ she said.

‘Then who was at the bottom of the stairs?’

‘Some members of a local gang. Mai Ahn and I know them, they’ve attended the hospital before—usually for emergency treatment, you know, stitches for fighting or stab wounds.’

The flare of anger abated. Maybe she hadn’t been exaggerating after all. ‘Surely they wouldn’t hurt you, then?’ he asked carefully.

Her gaze met his. ‘But they would probably hurt you,’ was her reply.

He swallowed. It seemed he’d need to get to know this city a little better. In Glasgow even the worst kind of people would generally leave a doctor alone. Most people had a moral code when it came to healthcare professionals, knowing that they would likely need help from them one day. But there had been attacks. One of his good friends had been assaulted and his bag stolen when he’d been visiting a terminally ill patient, so it did happen.

She sighed and put her hand up, tugging her ponytail band from her hair and shaking it out. ‘Sorry, headache,’ she explained. ‘They probably wouldn’t hurt you. But the truth is I do know them, and they drink. Heavily. They’re all fairly young, and some of them think they have something to prove.’

‘So you were erring on the side of caution?’

She gave him the first smile he’d seen since she’d come looking for him. ‘That’s the polite way to say it.’ She shook her head again as they approached the international school. ‘I’m not trying to scare you off. This is a fantastic city. But like all cities, there is good and bad, and until you familiarise yourself a little better, or at least get a hang of the language, can you try not to get into trouble? Believe me, I’ve got enough to worry about without having to check on you.’

She was trying to pretend the words were light-hearted but he could sense the sincerity behind them. They reached the door of the school. ‘Can you give me five minutes?’ he asked.

She nodded and waited outside as he went in to collect an excited but tired Regan, getting a full report from his teacher.

He walked back out with Regan in his arms. ‘It seems nursery was a big success,’ he said with a smile, conscious of how relieved he felt. Knowing that Regan had had a good day always made him happy. He’d be able to text his mum and dad tonight to tell them that things were good, and he knew they’d be relieved too.

‘Tell you what, let me try and make amends. How about I buy you dinner?’

Lien looked a bit surprised. ‘Dinner?’ she repeated.

He nodded and looked around. ‘You choose. Somehow I haven’t managed to get to the market today, and we devoured the food in the fridge last night. Show us somewhere we can eat on a regular basis.’ He raised one eyebrow. ‘Familiarise me with the area.’

She let out a laugh and shook her head, looking at Regan. She moved closer to talk to him. ‘Big day at nursery?’

Regan nodded in a tired kind of way. ‘It’s cool,’ he whispered.

Joe gave his back a rub. ‘I suspect Master Lennox is struggling with jet-lag. Once we’ve eaten I think I’ll get him straight to bed.’

Lien looked up and down the street. ‘What does Regan like? Are there foods he doesn’t eat? Or is he allergic to anything?’

Joe gave a brief shake of his head. ‘Take us somewhere you like, somewhere good. The wee man will more or less try anything.’

Lien let out a laugh.

‘What?’ Joe’s brow creased. ‘What is it?’

Her eyes were gleaming. ‘Have you any idea how Scottish you just sounded?’

She started walking down the street and he fell into step alongside her. ‘Don’t I always sound Scottish? I know my accent is a bit thick—’

‘A bit?’ Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

He laughed now too. They crossed a few streets and she showed him into a small Vietnamese restaurant. By the way they greeted her it was clear she was a regular.

They sat in a booth and Regan settled next to his dad. He seemed to perk up a little. ‘Are we getting food?’

‘Yip,’ said Joe, glancing at the menu. His smile broadened and he looked up at Lien.

She was leaning her head on one hand and watching them both. She too had a big smile on her face, and he knew exactly why.

‘What’s on the menu, Dad?’ asked Regan.

‘What’s on the menu, Lien?’ he asked. He nudged Regan. ‘What do you want to eat tonight? I think we’re going to get Lien to order for us.’

He slid the menu across the table towards Lien. It was entirely in Vietnamese. He was really going to have to get a handle on the language. He didn’t even know how to order fries somewhere—the staple food of lots of kids.

‘Rice and more pork,’ said Regan brightly. ‘And can it be a little bit spicy like the kind we had last night?’

Joe almost gave a sigh of relief. He was lucky Regan was such a great eater. With the exception of Brussels sprouts, there was very little his son would refuse.

Lien leaned across the table towards Regan. ‘Oh, they do the best spicy pork in here. We can definitely get you that.’ She looked up. ‘What about you, Joe?’

‘I’ll just get the same as Regan.’ He pulled a face. ‘But can you order big? I’m famished—I skipped lunch.’

‘You did?’ She frowned and sat back. ‘I thought you took a break today.’

He glanced down at his son, and mussed Regan’s hair. ‘I went to check on Regan. Didn’t have time to eat.’

She gave him an appreciative glance, then turned to their waiter and ordered rapidly in Vietnamese for them all. As she did it, she flicked a bit of hair out of her face. He smiled. She did that often. There was always a strand that seemed to defy the ponytail band or clip she wore to tie her hair back. It was a habit, one he found endearing. He straightened in his chair. Where had that thought come from? He focused his thoughts back on his sleepy son.

She was right about the restaurant. It was a good choice. The food arrived quickly, and they chatted easily while they ate.

He could see Lien gradually beginning to relax further. The more she relaxed, the more animated she became. He started to realise just how stressed she must have been earlier by his actions. Trouble was, he really wanted to check on the family again at some point. He just wasn’t sure how to do it without getting on her wrong side.

By the time they finished eating, Regan was sleepy again and Joe gathered him into his arms to carry him back to the house.

Lien smiled. ‘It’s getting to be a habit, isn’t it? Don’t worry. It takes some adults a whole week to adjust to jet-lag. Got to imagine it’s worse for kids.’

They walked along the main road back to the hospital. ‘Do we need to do anything when we get back?’

She shook her head. ‘Dr Nguyen—Phan, you met him earlier—is on call tonight. You’ll have that pleasure later in the week.’

He nodded. ‘Well, since I’m only a few steps away, that seems fine.’

‘There aren’t many emergencies at night,’ she said, her dark hair catching in the wind. ‘An IV might need to be re-sited, but unless someone appears at the door, being on call is generally just about being available if needed.’

‘So what do you do on your nights off, then—apart from show the best restaurants to your new colleagues?’ He wasn’t quite sure where that question had come from. It was out before he had much of a chance to think about it. But he was curious.

She gave him a half-smile. ‘Are you being nosy, Joe?’

He dragged one hand across his brow. ‘Phew. I must be at least half-forgiven. I didn’t get Dr Lennox.’

She laughed. He could tell she was trying decide what to say. It had only been one day, but she appeared to live alone in the house next door. There had been no mention of another half. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have one.

‘To be honest, I concentrate on work most of the time.’

There was something about the way she said those words. A hint of regret. A hint of something else.

‘Not married?’ What was wrong with him? His mouth seemed to be having a field day of talking before his brain could engage.

‘Me? No way.’ She held up one hand. ‘When would I have time to be married? I spend just about every waking hour at the hospital.’ Then she laughed. ‘Plus the non-waking hours.’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘The only exception is when I have to chase after our international doctors who have crazy ideas.’

This time he made sure his brain engaged before he leapt to his own defence. ‘Can we have a chat about that tomorrow? There are a few things I want to run past you.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Dr Lennox,’ she said with a smile on her face, ‘why do I get the impression you’re going to be trouble?’

CHAPTER THREE

THEY’D FALLEN INTO an easy routine. Joe was keen and enthusiastic, and she couldn’t fault his clinical skills for a second. Which was just as well as the place was even busier than usual. Khiem and Hoa had returned for a week, and then gone to the other hospital in Uông Bí in the northeast of Vietnam.

They’d quickly given their approval of the latest employee, loving his enthusiasm and listening to his wide range of ideas.

She couldn’t help but admire the relationship Joe had with his son. When they weren’t working, he devoted all his time to Regan. The little boy seemed to love his new environment. He’d even tried a few Vietnamese words on Lien that he’d learned at nursery. She was impressed.

Her fears had started to settle. Even after the awkward first day, Joe didn’t seem inclined to jump on the first plane back home.

Dinner at her favourite restaurant had been…interesting. His dark green eyes often had a glint of cheekiness in them, and she liked that. She was beginning to believe that he really was looking for a fresh start—even if he was only here for six months. Apart from his mum and dad, he rarely mentioned home. It was almost as if he was putting things firmly behind him. He’d been learning the language basics from Mai Ahn, and had taken an interest in some of the wider public health issues in the area.

The biggest adult health problem in Hanoi was strokes. Joe had been keen to assess every adult who attended the clinic—with any condition—to see if they were at risk. Blood-pressure medications and dietary advice were at the top of his list of general patient care. She could be annoyed. He’d started something that was in her future plans. But sometimes new blood was needed to kick-start things, so she was happy to go along with his ideas.

He’d also followed up on the family with tuberculosis. The younger two children had tested negative and been vaccinated to protect them. The father and grandfather were being actively encouraged to keep taking their medications, and the other little girl was being regularly reviewed at the clinic.

Lien stretched her hands above her head to try and relieve her aching back.

‘Whoops.’ Joe put his hand up to his face as he walked in the door opposite.

Heat rushed into her cheeks as she pulled her shirt back down. He’d clearly got a flash of her abdomen.

‘What do you have?’ she asked quickly.

‘Just an adult with what could be appendicitis.’ He frowned. ‘I know there’s a theatre here, but I’m definitely no surgeon. What do we do with patients like this?’

Her hands gave her shirt another pull and she moved over to stand next to him. ‘We generally monitor for a few hours, then, if we have to, we arrange an ambulance and admission to one of the bigger hospitals.’

‘How does that work for payment?’

‘It’s an emergency surgery and should be covered. But things can be tricky. Sometimes patients get billed for the ambulance or for the nursing care. Sometimes they get billed for nothing at all.’

She pulled the notes towards her. ‘Let’s see. We have a few patients with grumbling appendices. They like to wait until they absolutely have to come out.’

Joe ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. ‘This guy is obviously in pain. I’ll go and give him something in the meantime.’ He put his hands on his hips. ‘Can’t you persuade someone to do free surgery for your patients?’

She smiled. ‘It’s on our wish list, along with free hospital care, free rehab, addiction and mental health services.’

He nodded slowly. ‘I guess it’s a long list, then.’

‘It is.’ She could tell he was feeling a bit despondent. She reached up to put her hand on his arm. ‘You’ll get used to the differences here. We all want to do more than we actually can.’

His eyes went to her fingers resting on his arm. He didn’t say anything or pull away. He just stayed still. His gaze made her self-conscious and she stepped back, feeling a bit flustered.

‘What are your plans for tomorrow?’

Joe blinked. It was as if she’d lost him for a moment. ‘What?’ He shook his head. ‘Nothing. Just spending some time with Regan.’

‘Would you like me to show you some of the sights?’

His head tilted to one side, as if he was considering the offer. She was still a little flustered and her mouth just kept talking. ‘There are a few places not too far away that you might not have had a chance to visit yet. Have you been to Hoàn Kiếm Lake yet? Or Ngoc Son Temple?’

Joe shook his head. ‘No. We haven’t really had a chance to see much of the city. Is it something Joe would like?’

She nodded and smiled. ‘Sure. It’s a lake with boats and turtles. He’s a kid. Of course he’ll like it.’

She said it so matter-of-factly that Joe burst out laughing.

She nodded. ‘Okay, then, let’s finish up with this patient and see if he needs to be transferred, or if he just needs to be monitored overnight. Neither of us is on call tomorrow so we can take Regan out for the day.’

Her skin prickled. Joe was looking at her a little strangely. ‘Thank you,’ he said after a few seconds.

‘What for?’

‘For thinking about Regan.’

She shrugged. ‘What are friends for?’

The next morning seemed to come around quickly. By nine o’clock they were walking to Hoàn Kiếm Lake. Even though it was a weekend morning, the lake seemed as popular with locals as it was with tourists. The large green lake was surrounded by grass and old trees. There was a whole variety of activities going on, from joggers circling the lake, to walking groups and people doing exercises beside the still water. Tourist groups with guides carrying bright umbrellas hurried around the lake shore, obviously anxious to complete this part of their tour before the sun rose too high in the sky.

Regan was excited and bounced on his toes. ‘It’s just like the one back home, Daddy,’ he said.

Joe nodded thoughtfully. ‘Maybe.’ He glanced at Lien. ‘There’s a park we go to back home.’ He paused. ‘There are a lot of parks actually, but Regan’s favourite is Rouken Glen. There’s a lake and a gorgeous boathouse for food.’ He smiled down affectionately at Regan and ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s not quite on this scale.’ He held up one hand. ‘This place seems more…elegant.’

He was struck by how many similarities he could see between Hanoi and Glasgow. It hadn’t even occurred to him before he’d got here. He’d partly hoped that moving to a new place would flood him with a whole host of new emotions—leaving no time or space for new ones. It seemed he was going to have to work a little harder at leaving Glasgow behind.

‘This is one of my favourite places for people-watching,’ said Lien as she showed them around. ‘Hoàn Kiếm Lake means “Lake of the Restored Sword”.’

Regan’s eyes went wide. ‘Wow,’ he said quickly.

She bent down next to him. ‘The legend says that Emperor Lê Lợi had just won a great battle against the Ming dynasty. It was rumoured he had a magical sword that helped him win that battle. The sword was supposed to have great power and be inscribed with the words “Thuận Thiên”, which means “The Will of Heaven”.’ She gave a broad smile. ‘I think you have a similar story back in the UK about King Arthur and his sword Excalibur. Didn’t he get his sword from the Lady of the Lake?’

Regan’s eyes flitted to Joe’s and back again. He tugged at Lien’s sleeve. ‘Tell me about this sword.’

She had an art for storytelling. She seemed able to pull them into the stories she was telling, putting her own special spin on them so they were suitable for Regan. ‘Well, one of Lê Lợi’s fishermen had found this sword. He caught the blade in his net. It was thought it had come from the Dragon King’s underwater palace. Once he had the blade, Lê Lợi found the hilt—the bottom of the sword—inside a banyan tree. His soldiers said that Lê Lợi grew very tall when he used the sword and that it gave him the strength of many men.’

‘Is that how he won the battle?’ asked Regan eagerly.

Lien smiled and nodded. ‘Lê Lợi won the battle and the Chinese accepted Vietnam as a country in its own right. Shortly after, Lê Lợi was boating on this lake—it was called Luc Thuy then, the Green Water Lake—when a golden turtle appeared. The turtle told him he’d been given the sword to protect the country against the enemy, but now it was time to return it. The turtle took the sword from Lê Lợi’s belt and dived back to the bottom of the lake with the glowing sword. At first, Lê Lợi tried to find the sword as he wanted it back, but then he realised it had gone back to its rightful owner, the Dragon King.’

Regan ran to the edge and peered into the green depths. ‘Do you think the sword is still down there?’

Lien grabbed his hand. She could almost see the tiny mind working. ‘I think it is, but it’s back with its rightful owner.’

Regan’s eyes remained wide. He was staring out across the expanse of the green lake when something else caught his eye. ‘Look!’ He pointed.

Joe and Lien followed his gaze and saw a wedding party gathered at the other side. She nodded. ‘This is a popular place to get married or to take wedding pictures. There are a few temples around here.’

‘What kind of temples?’

Joe had just opened his mouth to ask the same question but Regan got there first. Joe let out a laugh. It was almost as if Lien had his son under some kind of spell. He was literally hanging on her every word. And Joe could understand why.

She was animated when she talked to him, using her hands and gestures to draw him in. Her eyes were full of fire.

‘Let’s go to the Ngoc Son Temple. It’s on an island in the middle of the lake. We have to walk around this way.’

She guided them around the lake. Every now and then they stopped at some other sight—people doing yoga on mats, another group practising tai chi. Every time Regan spotted a ripple on the lake surface he would yell, ‘Is it a turtle?’

‘I wish it was,’ sighed Lien. ‘There are only a few left. But keep a lookout, we might spot one.’

They reached a brightly painted ornate red bridge that had a stream of people walking across it. ‘This is the Huc Bridge—that means “morning sunlight”. It leads us to Jade Island.’

Lien bought some tickets from a booth and they joined the crowd of people filing across the bridge. Regan kept staring expectantly into the water of the lake, hoping to spot an elusive turtle. Lien pointed further down the lake to what looked like an abandoned building on another island. ‘That’s the Turtle Tower. It’s the place where the turtles are supposed to live and breed.’ She gave a sad kind of shrug. ‘Here’s hoping there are still some left.’

She turned back and continued across the bridge. Joe caught his breath as the temple emerged. It was beautiful. Built in traditional Vietnamese style, it was grey in colour with splashes of white and blue.

Lien gave a smile as the people in front of them stopped to take some photos. ‘This was built in the eighteenth century and honours one of the military leaders. He fought against the Yuan Dynasty.’

Regan’s brow furrowed. ‘There was a lot of fighting.’

Lien knelt next to him. ‘There’s a lot of fighting all over the world. Thankfully this was all hundreds of years ago and we don’t need to worry now.’

She turned back to the temple as they walked forward. ‘It’s still used—and it’s been repaired a number of times over the years.’ She lowered her voice as they walked through the main entrance. ‘Monks pray here, and you can smell the burning incense.’ She showed them around the various buildings on the small island, explaining them all. There were many antiques displayed with the temple, along with the preserved remains of a turtle that had been captured on the lake many years before.

Lien said, ‘Some people think the last one died a few years ago.’ She bent down and whispered in Regan’s ear, ‘But I live in hope that there are a few still in there, and they’re hiding from all the people. I bet they come out at night.’

They spent a while on the island, taking pictures and looking at the displays. Joe could sense that Regan was starting to get distracted, and they led him back across the red bridge and back to the grounds around the lake.

They sat on the grass underneath one of the trees for a while as the sun climbed in the sky. Joe reapplied Regan’s insect repellent, then Lien took them to a nearby store that sold ice cream.

They walked along the busy streets with their ice creams dripping. It was only when they stopped at one of the crossings that Joe sucked in a breath.

He hadn’t thought about Esther today. Not at all.

Pain sliced through him. For a long, long time she’d been the first thing he’d thought about in the morning and the last thing he’d thought about at night.

This morning they’d just been so busy waking up and getting ready that they really hadn’t had a minute. All Joe’s thoughts had been on Regan and Lien.

He’d known this would happen at some point but guilt still flooded through him. He’d promised Esther he would keep her memory alive in his son, and how could he do that if he hadn’t even spared her a thought today?

‘Joe? What’s wrong?’

Lien was standing in front of him, her nose only inches below his, chocolate ice cream dripping down her hand.

He jerked back. ‘What?’ He felt a bit confused.

She gave him a curious smile and he noticed she was holding Regan’s hand. ‘The lights changed for us to cross, and you missed them. We had to come back for you.’

He flinched. Had he really been so lost in his own thoughts? Heat rushed into his cheeks. Not only was he embarrassed, he was angry with himself. What if something had happened to Regan?

He noticed the crossing lights change again behind Lien’s head. ‘Let’s go,’ she said easily, as if nothing had happened.

He sucked in a breath as he watched her slim figure in white loose trousers and a bright pink long-sleeved tunic walk in front of him. From the way the sun was striking her, he could see the outline of her body beneath the thin clothes.

They’d taken a hundred photos today. Some together, and some of just Regan and Lien.

He licked his lips as he tried to rationalise the blood racing around his body. She was good for him. She was good for them.

Of course, she was a colleague. It was quite likely she had a no-date rule for work. And that was fine. Because he had to deal with his feelings before he could even consider anything else.

This was the first time he’d felt this rush, this attraction, in for ever. At least it felt like for ever.

The only woman Regan had really had in his life since Esther had died had been Joe’s mother, and while she was great, it was nice to see him interact so well with someone else. He watched as they stopped at the other side of the street and Lien pulled some tissues from her bag so they could all wipe their sticky fingers.

She looked over the top of Regan’s head. ‘You okay?’ she asked softly.

It was almost like she knew. As if she’d read his mind.

His heart stuttered, partly because of the empathy she showed and partly from the thought that if she could read his mind, she might not be entirely happy with some of the thoughts he’d been having.

He gave a quick nod of his head. ‘I’m fine.’

He sucked a deep breath in and closed his eyes for a second, inhaling the scent from the nearby street vendor carts. As he opened his eyes again he took in the bright splashes of colour all around them, and his ears adjusted to the constant buzz of noise. He smiled. Vietnam. Something about this city was giving him a new lease on life.

The next two days were busy. No time to sightsee or do anything other than work. Lien liked that. It was normal for her. But she was conscious of the fact that Joe was used to more support back home. She also wondered how well he was sleeping. She’d noticed some dark circles under his eyes today. Her hand paused at the blue door, wondering if she should knock or not. She wasn’t being nosy but she hadn’t seen Regan for a few days.

From the smell wafting through the open window she could tell they’d already had dinner. Good. She wouldn’t be interrupting. She knocked at the door and pushed it open when she heard the shout telling her to enter.

Joe waved her inside. Regan was perched on the edge of the sofa and she could see they had an electronic tablet in their hands. ‘We’re just video-calling back home with my mum and dad,’ he explained. He moved over on the sofa. ‘Come and say hello.’

She shook her head quickly and backed up. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

‘Don’t go.’ He smiled and waved his hand, beckoning her inside. ‘Come. My mum and dad want to say hello.’

She smiled nervously. This definitely felt like an intrusion, but Regan waved her over too. ‘Come on, Lien, say hi to my grandma.’

Lien took a few steps and sat down nervously next to Joe. There was an older couple on the screen, waving at her.

‘Mum, Dad, this is Lien.’

Regan stuck his head across the screen. ‘She works with Daddy.’

Joe nodded to the screen. ‘Lien, this is Rob and Ann, my mum and dad.’

Lien laughed nervously and waved back.

The woman, Ann, stepped right up to the screen, obviously to get a better look at her. She clasped her hands together. ‘Lien, it’s so nice to meet you. Regan’s been talking about you and how you live in the house next door.’

Lien nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. I’m next door.’

She’d spent her life talking to patients and relatives—usually complete strangers—and managed perfectly well. But right now she’d never felt so awkward. She had the strangest sensation of meeting a boyfriend’s mum when she was nineteen years old, and vowing not to set foot in that house again.

His mum had been nice, but it was clear she didn’t think anyone would be good enough for her son.

Ann kept talking. ‘How are they getting on? Regan says he likes the nursery, have you seen it? Does it have a good reputation? And Joe? Is he behaving? And how big is the laundry pile? Has he started wearing crumpled shirts yet?’

Lien’s head was buzzing, not least with the speed of the barrage of questions, but also with the broad Scottish accents. She actually started laughing.

Joe gave a casual shrug and rolled his eyes. ‘See, Regan? I told you. She doesn’t believe a word we say.’ He gave Lien a slight nudge. ‘Go on, back me up here.’

She turned from Joe to Regan and back to Ann. Rob stood in the background with his arms folded and his head shaking in amusement. It was clear he was used to all this.

Lien started to brush off the nerves. She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. I know how this works. I’m Team Ann.’

Joe’s mother’s face broke into a wide grin and the older woman held up her hand towards the screen. ‘High five!’ she said.

Lien returned the gesture. ‘High five.’ She shifted on the sofa. ‘So, the real story is, yes, your boys are doing fine. The nursery is great and Regan…’ she gave the boy an appreciative nod ‘…is mastering the language better than his dad.’ She gave Joe a quick glance. ‘As for Joe, well…’ she put her hand to her face ‘…where do I start?’

Ann started laughing and Joe leaned forward. He gave Lien a pretend shocked look. ‘What? No way?’

Lien shrugged. ‘Well, he seems to be doing okay in the doctor department but sometimes…’ she gave a slow nod and an amused grin ‘…he needs to be reined in.’

‘Oh, don’t I know it!’ declared Ann.

Lien pretended to look over the back of the sofa. ‘As for the laundry basket… I wouldn’t like to comment.’

Regan was laughing so hard he fell off the edge of the sofa and jumped back up again almost instantaneously. All four adults let out a yelp at once, and then a sigh of relief.

This time Rob stepped forward. He exchanged glances with his wife and put an arm around her waist. ‘We’re so glad to meet you, Lien,’ he said. She could see the genuine appreciation in his eyes. ‘We’re relieved there’s someone to keep an eye on our boys.’

Something panged inside her. They missed Joe and Regan. It was obvious. But there was something else too. Joe had told her that his mother had pushed him in this direction. She could almost see the older couple reaching through the screen and making a grab for the hopefulness they could see. She suddenly realised how this must look.

‘Everyone at the hospital is looking out for them,’ she said quickly.

Ann still had her gaze fixed on Lien, who tried not to look nervous, or shift uncomfortably. She didn’t want his mum and dad getting the wrong idea. She reached a hand out and patted Joe’s leg. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said, as she stood up.

Joe gave her a strange look, his gaze fixing on her hand. Of course. She’d just touched his leg. It had been an unwitting move. There had been no intent. But she doubted she’d helped things.

She gave her head a tiny shake and shot him a look of apology. ‘Nice to meet you, Rob and Ann.’ She waved at the screen as Regan climbed onto her vacated spot on the sofa.

She reached the door and glanced back. Regan had started talking again quickly, regaling his grandparents with stories from the nursery. But Joe’s eyes were fixed on hers.

She couldn’t quite tell what the expression on his face meant. Was he angry at her? Annoyed? No.

It was almost like…something else. As if a veil had just lifted from his eyes and he was seeing her in a different light.

The tiny hairs on her arms stood on end as her skin prickled instantly. She lifted her hand in a silent wave and ducked out the door, crossing the ground to her own house in double quick time.

When she opened her own door she closed it firmly behind her and stood for a second, leaning against it. What was wrong with her? Nothing had happened. Nothing had been said. But every cell in her body was on red alert. Her heart was racing. And somehow she knew it wasn’t from her burst of quick walking.

But there was something else. Something more subconscious. His parents were lovely, and clearly good fun. But she’d noticed something. It couldn’t be helped. It was obvious.

They’d been in the garden of their home. Their very large home. She had no idea about how people lived in Scotland, but she could tell a very large home and beautiful gardens at first glance. It all meant money. Joe’s family was rich. And she had experience of rich families.

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. There was obviously something wrong with her. Why had those thoughts even come into her head? Joe was only a work colleague. Nothing else. She was merely being hospitable.

But if she was only being hospitable, why did the fact he had a rich family back in Scotland make her want to run in the opposite direction?

She closed her eyes for a second and leaned her head back. This was crazy. She was crazy. She just wasn’t quite sure what came next.

Regan was oblivious to the subtleties of adults. He took every question about Lien at face value and blurted out answers left, right and centre.

Joe sat quietly cringing. The only thing was, he couldn’t help but smile. He could read his mum and dad like a book and shook his head at a few of their more inquisitive comments, pretending he hadn’t even heard them.

Eventually, he grabbed Regan and pulled him onto his lap. ‘Say goodnight to Grandma and Papa. It’s time for bed.’

His mother pulled a face and started to blow kisses. Then, just as they were about to disconnect, his father shot in a quick comment. ‘Love to Lien!’

Joe was sure the second the connection ended they’d be hugging each other. He spent the next half-hour settling Regan into bed and making up some story about pirates, before making his way back to turn out the lights. ‘Not as good as Lien,’ Regan murmured in a sleepy voice.

Joe left the room smiling and glanced out of the window. The pale lilac door was taunting him. Begging him to knock on it.

None of this had been planned. When Lien had appeared at the door it had seemed only natural to call her over to say hello to his parents. He’d half hoped it might give them some reassurance that he and Regan had actually settled in.

Instead, it had opened a whole new can of worms.

He felt his phone buzz and pulled it from his pocket. A text from his mother. Three words.

We love her.

Nothing else.

Guilt swamped him. What was he doing? As soon as Lien had sat down she’d fallen into the family conversation with no problems and been an instant hit with his parents.

He couldn’t pretend that hadn’t pleased him. He’d liked the way they’d exchanged glances of approval and joked and laughed with her.

But it also—in a completely strange way—didn’t please him.

Part of him still belonged to Esther. Always had. Always would.

He’d found love once. He’d been lucky. Some people would never have what he and Esther had.

How dared he even contemplate looking again?

His mother had pushed him here to start living again. Not to find a replacement for his wife.

The thought made his legs crumple and he slid down the wall, his hands going to his hair. For a few seconds he just breathed.

He was pulling himself one way and another. Guilt hung over him like a heavy cloud.

He knew why he was here. He knew he’d been living life back in Scotland in a protective bubble. It was time to get out there. That was why he’d accepted the tickets and climbed on that plane.

But what he hated most of all was that he did feel ready to move on. He was tired. He was tired of being Joe the widower. It had started to feel like a placard above his head.

But part of him hated the fact he wanted to move forward. He was tired of being alone. He was tired of feeling like there would never by anyone else in his and Regan’s lives. He was tired of being tired. Of course, he had no idea about the kind of person he was interested in. The truth was, the few little moments that Lien had caused sparks in his brain had bothered him.

It had been so long and he couldn’t quite work out how he felt about everything yet. Of course he’d want someone who recognised that he and Regan were a package deal. He’d want someone who could understand his usual passion for this work. These last few weeks had mirrored how he’d been a few years before. Every day there was something new to learn. Someone new to help. It was what had always driven him, and he knew that, for a while, he’d lost that. But Vietnam was reawakening parts of him that had been sleeping for a while.

He lifted his head and peeled his damp shirt from his back and sighed. Too much thinking wasn’t good for a man.

CHAPTER FOUR

LIEN FINISHED WRITING up the notes on her last patient just as one of the nurses stuck her head around the door. ‘Lien? I know it’s late, but Joe asked if you’d mind dropping in at his house on the way home. There’s something he wants to talk to you about.’

She couldn’t help the way her face automatically curved into a smile. It seemed the nurse noticed too as she gave Lien an amused glance. ‘Okay, then, see you later.’

Lien glanced at her watch. It was late. Regan would likely be sleeping by now. She couldn’t help but be curious. What did Joe want to talk to her about?

She washed her hands and pulled her shirt a little straighter, then walked across the grounds towards his blue door.

She knocked lightly, waiting for only a second before he pulled it open with a tired smile. ‘Come in.’

He was wearing a white T-shirt and some lightweight jogging trousers. From the way he had papers scattered across the table he’d been working on this for some time.

He gestured towards the table, indicating she should sit next to him. In the last few weeks he’d made this place a bit homier. There were now a few pictures scattered around, and it looked like he’d finally got around to buying a laundry basket to get on top of the washing. She could see a haphazardly folded pile of clean clothes sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.

‘Want something to eat?’

She shook her head. She’d been hungry a few hours ago, but the feeling had passed. He held up a tin that she knew was where he kept Regan’s favourite biscuits. ‘One of these?’

‘Go on, then,’ she said. ‘But promise not to tell him.’

Joe smiled. ‘Oh, too late, he has these counted. I’ll need to account for the missing biscuit tomorrow.’

She bit into the chocolate-coated biscuit. It was one that Regan’s grandparents sent every few weeks from Scotland and she was beginning to think she was getting quietly addicted to them.

There was a noise, a bit like a whimper, and Joe crossed to Regan’s doorway. As she watched she could sense his breathing get heavier. It was clear he had something on his mind. She waited a few moments, and when he didn’t move, she crossed over to stand just behind his shoulder.

Regan was curled into a little ball. His lips were moving, as if he were singing some song or nursery rhyme in his sleep.

Joe took a deep breath, his voice so low it was barely a whisper, his eyes fixed on Regan.

‘Sometimes when I’m in my bed at night, I get up and watch Regan sleeping. Then I start to wonder, is there some horrible, secret gene that predisposes you to cancer?’

Lien’s stomach gave an uncomfortable twist. He kept talking, his voice racked with emotion.

‘Both of Esther’s parents died of different types of cancer, and she died of leukaemia. So I look at my little boy and wonder if there’s even a tiny possibility that he might have inherited something that I don’t know about, can’t see, and won’t find out about until it smacks us in the face.’ His voice was shaking now, as were his hands.

She slid her arm through his.

He shook his head. ‘I know it’s crazy. I know it’s irrational. But I can’t help it.’

Her voice was tinged with sadness because she got the impression he’d been hiding these feelings for a while, storing them up, letting them fester, and not sharing them with anyone else. ‘But it’s not irrational, and it’s not crazy, Joe. It’s the thoughts of a man who has already lost his wife, and is terrified he might lose his son.’

She hated the fact they were having this conversation. She could reach out and touch his pain. It was so visible in the air it was practically creating a cloud around his head.

There was also a tiny twinge in her that wondered if this was why he’d asked her here. She’d been bright and happy about the invitation, hoping that—just maybe—it was for something other than work.

But now he was talking to her about his dead wife, and his fears for his son. Her heart ached for him, but she was also trying hard to hide the tinge of disappointment she felt.

She should have been pleased that he felt he could reveal this part of himself to her. But somehow it also gave her the feeling that, no matter what Joe said out loud, his heart really wasn’t ready to move on.

She ran her fingertips along his bare skin. ‘I can’t say much to help, because we do know some cancers seem to run in families. But think back. Think back to the random patients you’ve seen over the years that came in with symptoms. Symptoms that led to a diagnosis of…’ she paused for a second, obviously recalling a few cases ‘…skin cancer, anal cancer, prostate cancer or renal cancer. People with no family history at all. It happens all the time.’

She stopped talking for a few minutes and just let him consider. ‘Sometimes it’s easier to see the things that worry us most.’ She paused and gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘The kinds of things that keep you awake in your bed at night.’

‘What kind of doctor does that make me then?’ He looked pained.

She shook her head. ‘No kind of doctor. Just a worried parent. You don’t have to be a doctor every moment of your life, Joe.’ She looked up into his worried green eyes and gave him the softest smile. They were barely inches apart now. ‘Make room for other things,’ she whispered.

It was almost as if she’d touched a nerve. He jerked. He physically jerked at the impact of her words and she immediately averted her eyes, embarrassed for them both. She moved back quickly to the table and sat down, giving him a few moments to join her.

Her brain was whirring now. She shouldn’t have touched him. How could she explain that it had been done in empathy for how he was feeling?

She wasn’t really that surprised that he was feeling vulnerable right now. He was in a strange country with his son. Yes, they seemed to have settled well, but who really knew what went on inside someone else’s mind?

Clearly not her. No matter how much she tried to deny it, she was beginning to feel a connection to this guy. But after that reaction she was apparently not reading things well. She’d just embarrassed them both. The easiest thing to do was try to pretend nothing had happened.

She shifted a little in the seat. The last thing she wanted to do was sit here in his company after that.

But she still had to work with this guy every day. So she took a deep breath and plastered an interested look on her face, ignoring the little strands of hurt she felt inside.

His phone buzzed with a text and when it flashed up, she saw the screenshot that lay behind it. It was the same photo that Regan had next to his bed. The picture of Esther on the beach, laughing.

Something twisted inside her. She had no reason to be jealous, absolutely none. Of course Regan should have a picture of his mum, but did Joe also need to have it on his phone?

She stared at the array of papers alongside a laptop on the table. ‘What on earth have you been doing?’

As he sat down at the table and started organising his papers her eyes went to one of the pictures Joe had put on the wall. What drew her attention was a large, grand-looking house surrounded by an expanse of gardens. From the view and setting it seemed to be back in Scotland. Joe and Regan were standing in front of the property—it was clearly their family home. She had no idea what house prices were like over there, but one look at the obviously expensive property made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She’d already seen the house belonging to Joe’s mum and dad, but this must be the house that Joe and Regan lived in. She tried not to calculate in her head how many times this tiny two-bed bungalow could fit into that grand house. What was the English TV series set before the war, where they had staff? It was nearly as big as that.

‘Is that a house or a castle?’ she quipped. Unease spread across her. No, more than that. It was like every nerve in her body was on edge; she could sense the instant hostility and she couldn’t do a darned thing about it. It was like every automatic defence system had just slid into place.

‘It’s not a castle,’ he said with a wave of his hand, then peered back at the screen. ‘At least, I don’t think it was.’

Her skin prickled. She actually wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. She licked her lips. It was funny how being uncomfortable made her mouth instantly dry. ‘Bigger than the average house, I imagine.’ She tried to make her voice sound casual.

He leaned back against the sofa and nodded towards the window and the hospital across from them. ‘Not as big as this place.’

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’m not so sure.’

He shook his head. ‘Nah,’ he said breezily. ‘And anyway, didn’t you know everyone lives in a castle in Scotland?’

Of course he was joking, but just the way he said those words tugged at something inside her, and not in a good way. History had taught her that only those who had never had to worry about money would make a quip like that.

‘Here.’ He turned a large piece of paper around to face her. He hadn’t thought twice about their conversation. He hadn’t even noticed her reaction.

She bent forward. It was a map of the surrounding areas. It was littered with red and blue dots.

‘What is this?’ She was confused.

‘I decided to take a look at some of our patients,’ he said. His fingers traced across the paper. ‘The ones with the red dots are the patients currently attending that have tuberculosis. The ones with blue dots are the ones we know have multi-resistant tuberculosis.’ He leaned forward so his head was almost touching hers. ‘Look here. This is the biggest cluster.’

She nodded slowly. The information wasn’t a surprise to her, she’d just never seen it laid out this way. Her skin prickled. The district with the biggest incidence of tuberculosis was the one where her parents lived, and in which she’d been brought up.

He kept talking as he moved some papers around the desk. ‘Okay, so you don’t like me going out and doing follow-ups…’ he gave her a slightly teasing smile ‘…but I got to thinking. I’ve checked up on some of these patients. There’s a low uptake of tuberculosis vaccinations after birth. Not everyone is bringing their children to the clinic. What about if we set up a kind of pop-up clinic to try and screen some people for TB, and immunise any kids that have been missed?’

He was clearly brimming with enthusiasm at the prospect. ‘Is this district one I should be worried about? Are the crime rates high there?’ He kept talking without waiting for a response. ‘Because I’ve checked some of the other stats. I know there’s deprivation and poor health. I know one of the biggest issues for the kids in that area is malnutrition. Maybe we could try and do something to address that while we’re there?’

Something swept over her. Resentment. A wave of anger. ‘What, do you want to give them all money to feed their kids too?’

He pulled back, obviously surprised by her outburst. She ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Do you think we haven’t tried these things before?’ she asked. ‘Do you think we haven’t tried to find new ways to help the people who need it most?’ Her words came out more fiercely than she’d meant them to, but she couldn’t hide how many buttons his ideas had just pushed.

Joe was looking at her with cautious eyes. He clasped both hands together and spoke carefully. ‘Of course I think you’ve tried different things. But sometimes it’s a timing issue. All I’m saying is maybe it’s time to try again.’ His voice was low. ‘I don’t know the people in these areas the way that the rest of the staff here do. I can only look from an outside point of view. My public health head tells me we have a current hotspot for tuberculosis, and potentially more cases of multi-resistance. Can’t we take a look at this?’

He spoke so earnestly she knew he meant every word of this. She couldn’t help but be oversensitive. She often felt like this when outsiders remarked on the area she’d been brought up in. People made so many judgements. Formed so many opinions.

She struggled to find the right words. ‘Let me think about it. We can discuss it with Khiem and Hoa. Setting up pop-up clinics is more difficult than it sounds.’

Joe pressed his lips together and ran his fingers through his hair. She could tell he was frustrated. He’d probably wanted her to jump all over his idea and tell him it was wonderful. And in some ways it probably was.

He leaned back and stretched his arms out. ‘Regan is hankering after another bedtime story from you. He’ll be sorry he missed you tonight.’

‘Couldn’t be helped,’ she said as lightly as she could. ‘We can catch up some other time.’ She gave Joe a softer look. ‘Are your stories really that bad?’

He smiled. ‘Not bad. Just the same. I keep recycling, and Regan’s now getting old enough to realise that.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Whereas you swept in here with your dragons, warriors and magic turtles and blew me out of the water.’

She raised her eyebrows in challenge. ‘Time to up your game, then.’

He shook his head. ‘Oh, no way. I’m not getting into that. You have an unfair advantage.’

‘What’s that?’ The atmosphere between them was definitely mellowing. She was starting to calm down. Gain a bit of perspective. She’d had no reason to act so hurt about earlier. He’d clearly been sad, vulnerable and worried about his child. Over-reacting wouldn’t do either of them any good.

He waved his hand. ‘Untried and untested kids’ stories.’

‘Who says they’re untried and untested? I’ve worked the children’s clinic for a while now. It’s amazing what you can learn when you start telling a chid a story.’

His face changed, becoming more serious, and he nodded. ‘Yeah, sometimes they tell you a story back that makes you want to wrap your arms around them and hide them away.’

Their gazes clashed. Unspoken words. Joe had worked as a general practitioner in Scotland for years. Doubtless he’d encountered child protection issues just like she had here. It was a sobering thought, and she didn’t want to go there.

‘Have you and Regan video-called with your parents again?’

He nodded. ‘Oh, yes. Every Tuesday and Friday. My parents are creatures of habit. If they don’t get their Regan fix they get very testy.’

‘They must miss him.’

He gave a little sigh. ‘Yeah, they do. And he misses them. I don’t think he quite understands the distance. He’s asked a few times if we can go and see them. He was used to seeing them every day, so it’s a big difference.’

‘You must miss them too.’

Joe paused for a second. ‘I do. They’ve been my biggest supporters for the last few years. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t been there when…’ His voice drifted off and she filled in the blanks by herself. She didn’t need him to say any more. He looked up. ‘They keep asking for you too. You’ll need to come and say hello again sometime.’

She smiled nervously. Something in the air felt quite odd between them. They were working together so well, and she enjoyed his company. Maybe that was it? She was enjoying his company a bit more than any other colleague’s. Maybe that was why she was being so defensive? Self-protect mode kicked in when anything felt remotely personal. She wanted to keep herself safe. And how did you keep your heart safe when there was already an adorable kid tugging away at it, and a guy with the sexiest accent in the world breathing the same air?

He reached over for the biscuit tin again, offering it to her. ‘Hey, you’ve met my mum and dad now. When do we get to meet yours? I’m sure Regan would love to say hello.’

The words came like a bolt out of the blue. It felt like a tidal wave sweeping the ground from beneath her feet. She wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t ready. She swallowed. ‘I…I…’ Panic flooded her. This wasn’t her. She was a professional. She’d had lots of questions or statements thrown at her over the years. None had made her as tongue-tied as this simple request.

She stood up quickly, scattering some of the papers that were on the table to the floor. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve just remembered there’s something I need to do.’ She crossed the room quickly and opened the door, her mouth achingly dry. ‘See you tomorrow.’

The thudding of her heart echoed in her ears as she hurried to her own front door. She’d seen the look on Joe’s face. He’d been totally confused by her actions. But the thought of taking him to meet her parents made her stomach churn in a way she couldn’t put into words.

She’d been down this road before. At medical school she’d known how to dress—designer classics bought from charity shops, clothes that had barely aged from season to season. She had been polite. She’d been able to talk about a vast range of international topics. She’d read widely. All things to hide her background from her fellow students. It had all gone so nicely. Until she’d started dating Reuben.

And he’d wanted to meet her parents. They hadn’t even got that far. As soon as he’d heard where she lived, she’d been dropped like a hot brick. The look of disdain and disappointment that he’d given her had seared into her heart, destroying a little part of her for ever. It seemed as if Joe, despite his humble nature, was from just as rich a family as Reuben had been.

The thought filled her with dread. They were just colleagues, that was all.

But how could Joe meet her parents without judging them? Wasn’t that what everyone from wealth and privilege did? She didn’t want that for her parents. She loved them dearly, and supported the fact they liked where they lived. But anyone walking into the neighbourhood could see the poverty there. It reached out and grabbed you from every faded awning and tumbled litter bin that was strewn across the streets. From the patched-up windows, along with the thin, angular frames of the people who lived there. Malnutrition was a big issue. Overcrowding another.

The area was home to her. Even if it wasn’t the nicest area. She could name most of the families in the same street as her mother and father. Some of these people had cleaned up her grazed knees or wiped her nose when she’d been a tiny kid. She’d been invited to sit at the table of bigger families with a large bowl of food shared out between however many faces were round the table at the time. Sometimes it meant only a few spoonfuls each, but the laughter and chatter around the table had meant that bellies had felt a little less empty.

The thought of walking Joe—the man who practically lived in a castle back in Scotland—down those streets filled her with dread.

Her parents were every bit as polite and hospitable as Joe’s were, and Joe didn’t seem like Reuben in any other way.

But she couldn’t take that chance.

She wouldn’t have her parents judged the way she had been.

Not ever.

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