LITMIR.BIZ

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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

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