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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.

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