LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

couldn’t get over Bethan’s eyes. As chocolate-brown as her hair, if not more so. She also had beautiful, creamy skin, with a hint of the English rose on her cheekbones and a wide, full-lipped mouth. She looked nothing like her grandmother, whom he knew well—even though she’d refused to be his patient for years and saw Dr McKellen instead, over in the next village.

      You couldn’t help but see the same faces out and about in Gilloch, and her grandmother, Mhairi, was well-known to him because of the upset between her and his grandfather years back, that probably no one except them ever talked about any more. He often saw her. She took long walks down to the wool mill, or along the front of the bay to sit outside the coffee shop, wrapped up in swathes of knitted garments and watching the fishermen come in with their catch.

      ‘I’m Cameron. Very pleased to meet you.’

      ‘Bethan. Likewise.’

      ‘Please take a seat.’

      She was long-limbed but graceful as she sank into the seat opposite and laid her briefcase neatly against her chair. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘You found us all right?’

       Clearly, or she wouldn’t be here, idiot!

      ‘I did. It’s not far from my nanna’s house. Well, my house, too, now, I guess.’

      ‘You’ve been back in the area for a short while?’

      ‘A few months, yes. I moved here from Cornwall.’

      He nodded. Good. That was all good.

       You’re staring.

      Cameron cleared his throat and stared down at her paperwork. The only application on his desk.

      ‘So, we’re here to discuss the vacancy of general practitioner here in Gilloch.’

      He needed time to think. Time to reorganise his thoughts. He picked up her CV and read it through as if it were the first time.

      ‘You’re looking for a full-time post?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And you’ve spent the last few years as a full-time mother? That’s correct?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You’re aware that this post is very demanding? Long hours—frequently past school pick-up time—sometimes evening work, call-outs, home visits, that kind of thing?’

       Are you trying to scare her away?

      She seemed to bristle slightly. Had he implied that she wouldn’t be able to cope because she had a child? He hadn’t meant to.

      ‘What I mean is, it’ll be an abrupt change from what you’re used to.’

      ‘I don’t think so at all. Being a mother is about having demands made on you all the time—all day long and sometimes through the night. There are no days off. You can’t go sick or take a holiday. You’re always on call.’ She smiled.

      He nodded, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from her. There was something so vibrant about her. So intriguing.

      ‘You’re absolutely right. I have a child myself. Same age as...’ he quickly scanned her personal statement again ‘...Grace, is it?’

      Bethan smiled. ‘Yes. She’s just started at Gilloch Infants’ School.’

      ‘So has Rosie. My daughter.’

      She looked surprised. ‘Which teacher does she have?’

      ‘Mrs Carlisle.’

      ‘Oh! They’re in the same class, then.’

      ‘I’m sure they’ll become good friends.’

      She smiled at him—a beautiful smile. ‘Let’s hope so.’

      He considered her, enjoying her optimistic outlook. It had been a long time since he’d felt optimistic about anything, and it was just fascinating to see someone who shone so brightly with it. Surely there had to be shadows somewhere?

      ‘It says here that you left your last post for personal reasons?’

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘Not because of the job itself?’

      ‘No. I loved working as a GP, but my husband got sick and needed someone to look after him.’

      ‘Oh. I’m very sorry to hear that. I hope he’s better now?’

      She looked down at the ground for a brief moment, her smile faltering, before she met his gaze again. ‘He died. Of pancreatic cancer.’

      He was shocked. And a little embarrassed at having pushed her to explain. ‘I’m very sorry.’

      ‘You weren’t to know.’

      ‘I lost my wife when Rosie was born. It’s difficult being a single parent, isn’t it?’

      ‘I’m sorry, too. It can be, if you’re truly on your own. That’s why it’s good to have family around.’

      ‘Is that why you moved to Gilloch?’

      ‘Yes, I was born here. Lived here in Gilloch until about the age of three or four, when my parents moved to Cornwall. My father was looking for better job prospects—my mother for better weather!’

      She laughed at the personal memory and he loved the way her eyes lit up as she spoke of her parents.

      ‘It was in Cornwall that I met my husband. He was a doctor, too. When he died I felt incredibly alone. My parents were gone by then, and I just felt a yearning to be with family. It’s important, that connection. More than any other. We’d always kept in touch with my grandmother, speaking online and on the phone, and I wanted Grace to know her properly instead of just being a voice...an image. So I decided to move back here so we could look after each other.’

      ‘Mhairi?’

      She nodded.

      Cameron put down her paperwork. ‘Tell me what you think you can bring to this post.’

      But at that moment there was another knock on the door and Janet was there, carefully balancing a tray with cups, saucers, a teapot and a small plate of biscuits.

      ‘Thank you, Janet.’ He dismissed her and waited for her to leave the room before turning his attention back to Bethan.

      ‘I’m punctual, committed, hard-working. I’m good with patients and I know how to build a rapport with them. I believe myself to be very efficient, and I have a good talent for hearing what people aren’t saying.’

       Is that right?

      ‘What would you say are your weaknesses?’

      She shifted in her seat. ‘I get attached. I care too much, too quickly, and don’t always control my emotions.’

      He frowned. That was a red flag. He didn’t need anyone getting attached to him! Even if it was just as a friend or a trusted colleague. He didn’t need anyone to be hurt by his passing. It was going to be bad enough for Rosie. He needed strong people around to be there for her, not crying a river for their own pain.

      ‘How do you mean?’

      ‘It’s the human element. I find it hard to create a professional distance sometimes. Especially with people that I feel I know well. I care for them. Feel for them. When they’re hurting, so am I.’

      She leaned forward, planted her elbows on his desk.

      ‘What I mean is, if I’ve been looking after someone and then I have to deliver a shocking diagnosis that’s going to affect their lives then I’m going to feel that pain with them. It will make me cry. Not whilst I’m with them,’ she clarified. ‘I’m not that

Скачать книгу