Tempted By The Hot Highland Doc

‘Sometimes I think I love you, Magda,’ he said as he shook his head.

She wagged her finger. ‘Don’t tell David you said that, and just remember that while I tell you the rest.’ He smiled. He’d known Magda’s husband for the last ten years. He’d watched his friend battle to win the heart of the woman in front of him.

‘What’s the rest?’ he asked as he stood up and stretched his back.

Magda bit her bottom lip. ‘The filming happens for three days every month. You don’t have to do anything special. They just follow you about on your normal duties. They take care of patient consent for filming. You just have to be you.’

The words were said with throwaway confidence but from the look on Magda’s face she knew what was coming.

‘Three days every month?’

She nodded. ‘That’s all.’

He pressed his lips together. It didn’t sound like That’s all to him. It sounded like three days of someone following him around and annoying him constantly with questions. It sounded like three days of having to explain to every single patient that someone was filming around him. He could kiss goodbye to the ten-minute consultation system that kept the GP practice running smoothly. He could wave a fond farewell to his speedy ward rounds in the community hospital where he knew the medical history of most of the patients without even looking at their notes.

‘Three days?’ He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. He’d spent his life guarding his privacy carefully. Magda knew this. They’d trained together for six years, then jokingly followed each other across Scotland for a variety of jobs. It had been Rhuaridh who had introduced Magda to the isle of Arran off the west coast of Scotland—a place she’d fallen instantly in love with. It had been Rhuaridh who had introduced Magda to his best friend David, and his father Joe, who’d looked after the cottage hospital and GP practice on the island for thirty years. She knew him better than most. She knew exactly how uncomfortable this would make him.

She put her feet on the floor and leaned forward as best as she could with her swollen stomach. ‘I know it’s bad timing. I never thought this would happen.’ Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. ‘I always meant for it to be me that did the filming. I thought it might even be fun. Some of our oldies will love getting a moment on TV.’

He could hear the hopeful edge in her voice. He knew she was trying to make it sound better for him.

He shook his head. ‘It...it’ll be fine, Magda. Don’t worry. You know I’ll do it.’ He could say the words out loud but he couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. Three days’ filming every month for the next year. It was his equivalent of signing up for the ultimate torture. This was so not his comfort zone.

He took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s fine. You concentrate on baby Bruce. Don’t worry about anything. We both know you should currently be at home, not here. Leave this with me.’

She gave a half-scowl. ‘I am not calling my baby Bruce.’

It was a standing joke. David’s family had a tradition of calling the firstborn in their family Bruce. David had missed out. He was the secondborn. Once Magda had got past the three-month mark both David and Rhuaridh had started teasing her about the family name.

He laughed. ‘You know you are. Don’t fight it.’ He glanced at the pile of work sitting on his desk. It would take him until late into the night. With Magda going on maternity leave, and no locum doctor recruited to fill the gap, everything was going to fall to him. He was lucky. He worked within a dynamic team of advanced nurse practitioners, practice nurses and allied health professionals. He already knew they would support him as best they could.

Life had changed completely for him once his father had died. He’d felt obligated to come back and provide a health service for the people of the island when the post couldn’t get filled. Unfortunately, Zoe, his partner, had been filled with horror at the thought of life on Arran. He hadn’t even had the chance to ask whether she thought a long-distance relationship could work. She had been repelled by the very prospect of setting foot on the island he’d previously called home and had run, not walked, in the opposite direction.

All of that had messed with his head in a way he hadn’t quite expected. He loved this place. Always had, always would. Of course, as a teenager wanting to study medicine, he’d had to leave. And that had been good for him. He’d loved his training in the Glasgow hospitals, then his time in Edinburgh, followed by a job in London, and a few months working for Doctors Without Borders, before taking up his GP training. But when things had happened and his father died suddenly? That whole journey home on the boat had been tinged with nostalgia. Coming home had felt exactly like coming home should. It had felt as if it was supposed to happen—even though the circumstances were never what he had wanted.

He moved over towards the desk and looked at Magda. ‘So, when exactly does this start? In a few months?’

There was a nervous kind of laugh. ‘Tomorrow,’ Magda said as she stared out the window. ‘Or today,’ she added with a hint of panic as her eyes fixed on the woman with blonde hair blowing frantically around her face in the stiff Firth of Clyde winds. Rhuaridh’s eyes widened and he dropped the file he’d just picked up.

‘What?’ His head turned and followed Magda’s gaze to the car park just outside his surgery window.

The woman was dressed in a thin jacket and capri pants. It was clear she was struggling with the door of her car as it buffeted off her body then slammed in the strong winds. She didn’t look particularly happy.

‘You’ve got to be joking—now? No preparation time, nothing?’

Magda gave an uncomfortable swallow, her blue eyes meeting his. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I just got caught up in other things.’

He could sense the panic emanating from her. He felt his annoyance bubble under the surface—but he’d never show it.

His brain started to whirl. He’d need to talk to patients. Set up appropriate consultations. Make sure nothing inappropriate was filmed. He wanted to run a few questions past his professional organisation. He knew there had been some other TV series that had featured docs and medical staff, and he just wanted a bit of general advice.

A piece of paper flew out of the hand of the woman outside. ‘Darn it!’ Even from inside her American accent was as clear as a bell.

Magda made a little choking sound. He turned to face her as she obviously tried to stifle her laugh. Her eyebrows rose. ‘Well, she looks like fun.’

Rhuaridh pressed his lips together to stop himself from saying what he really wanted to say. He took another breath and wagged his finger at Magda. ‘Dr Price, I think you owe me.’

She held out her hand so he could help pull her up from the chair. ‘Absolutely.’ She smiled.

* * *

Gerry seemed to be taking the wind in his stride. ‘Why did we come here first?’ she muttered as she opened the boot of the car to grab some of their equipment.

‘Best to get things started on the right foot. Let’s meet our guy, establish some ground rules, then crash.’

She gave him a sideways glance. Maybe her older colleague was more fatigued than he was admitting. She batted some of her hair out of her face. The sign outside the building read ‘Cairn Medical Practice’, with the names of the doctors underneath.

‘Roo-ah-ree.’ She practised the name on her tongue as they made their way to the main entrance. Gerry already had a camera under one arm. One thing for Gerry, he was ever hopeful.

‘Roo-ah-ree.’ She practised again, trying to pretend she wasn’t nervous. So much was riding on this. She had to make it work. She had to make it interesting and watchable. There hadn’t been background information on this doc. Apparently he’d been the last-minute replacement for someone else. And if he was anything like the majority of the people on the ferry he would be grey-haired, carry a walking stick, and be wearing a sturdy pair of boots.

The ferry. What if she still smelled of sick? She felt a tiny wave of panic and grabbed some perfume from her bag, squirting it madly around her before they went through the main entrance door.

They stepped into a large waiting area. It was empty but looked...busy. Some of the chairs were higgledy-piggledy, magazines and a few kids’ toys were scattered around the tables and floor. She could see some tread marks on the carpet. This place had a well-used feel about it.

She glanced at her watch. There was no one at the reception desk. It was after six p.m. The sign on the door said that was closing time. ‘Hello?’ she ventured.

There was the slam of a door from somewhere and a tall ruffled, dark-haired man appeared from the back of the building. He had the oddest expression on his face. It looked almost pained.

‘Hi, sorry,’ he said. ‘Just seeing my pregnant colleague out.’ His eyes seemed to run up and down the two of them. ‘You must be the TV people.’

His accent was thick, almost lilting, and it actually took her a few seconds to tune in and process his words. A frown appeared on his forehead at the delay. ‘Rhuaridh Gillespie?’ He lifted his hand and pointed to his chest.

Oh, my goodness. She was going to have to concentrate hard—and she didn’t just mean because of the accent. He was so not what she expected. Instead of an old wrinkly guy, she had a lean, muscled guy with bright blue eyes and slightly too long tousled dark hair. He was wearing a light blue shirt and dress pants. And he didn’t look entirely pleased to see them.

Something sparked in her brain and she walked forward, holding her hand out, knowing exactly how dishevelled she looked after their long journey. ‘Kristie Nelson. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Roo—’ She stumbled a little. ‘Dr Gillespie,’ she said, praying that her signature smile would start working any moment soon.

For a while, that had kind of been her trademark. With her styled blonde locks, usually perfect makeup and ‘signature’ wide smile, there had been a time on local TV when she’d become almost popular. That had been the time she’d had oodles of confidence and thought her star was going to rise immensely and catapult her to fame and fortune. Instead, she’d fallen to the earth with a resounding bump.

He reached over and took her hand. It was a warm, solid grip. One that made her wonder if this guy worked out.

‘Like I said, Rhuaridh Gillespie.’ He leaned over and shook Gerry’s hand too.

‘Gerry Berkovich. Camera, lights, sounds and general dogsbody for the good-looking one.’ He nodded towards Kristie.

She slapped his arm. ‘As if!’

Dr Gillespie didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, he barely held in his sigh. He gestured towards the nearest office. ‘Come and have a seat. I’ve kind of been thrown in at the deep end here, so we’re going to have to come to an agreement about some boundaries.’

It was the edge to his tone. She shot a glance at Gerry, who raised one corner of his eyebrow just a little. This didn’t sound like the best start.

She swallowed and tried to ignore the fact she was tired, now hungry, and desperately wanted a shower and five minutes lying on a bed and staring up at a ceiling. She’d been travelling for twenty hours. She’d been in the company of other people for more than that. Sometimes she needed a bit of quiet—a bit of down time. And it didn’t look like it would happen anytime soon.

Rhuaridh showed them to seats in his office.

Kristie had dealt with lots of difficult situations over the last few years in TV and moved into autopilot mode. ‘I’m sure everything will be fine,’ she said smoothly. ‘Contracts have already been agreed—’

‘Not by me,’ he cut in sharply, ‘And not by my patients. In fact...’ he took a deep breath, lifting one hand and running it through his dark scraggy hair ‘... I’ll need to get my professional organisation to take a look at this contract to make sure no patient confidentially will be breached inadvertently.’

He was speaking. But she wasn’t really hearing. It was all just noise in her ears.

‘This was all looked at—all prepared beforehand.’ She could cut in too. As it went, she didn’t know a single thing about the show’s contracts because she’d had nothing to do with any of this. All she knew was she was on a schedule. She had three days to film enough stuff to get forty-one minutes of usable footage. Much harder than it sounded.

‘I’ve been thrown into this. I won’t do anything to compromise my patients, or my position here.’ His voice was jagged and impenetrable. She could see him building a solid wall in front of himself before her very eyes. Her very tired eyes.

She’d thought he’d looked kind of sexy earlier. If this guy could do a bit of charm, the ladies would love him. But it seemed that charm and Dr Gillespie didn’t go in the same sentence. ‘I’m sure that—’

He stood up sharply. ‘I won’t move on this.’

‘But we only have three days...’

Gerry gave a little cough. She turned sideways to look at him and he gave an almost invisible shake of his head.

‘I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I suggest you go and check into your accommodation and try and...’ he shot her a glance as if he was struggling to find the right words ‘...rest.’

He walked over to the door and opened it for them. This time he didn’t even meet her gaze. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

Kristie was feeling kind of dazed. Had she just been dismissed? She wanted to stand and argue with him. Who did this guy think he was? Arrogant so-and-so. She’d travelled twenty hours for this.

But it was almost as if Gerry read her mind. He grabbed hold of her elbow as he led her back to the car.

The sky had got darker again as thick grey clouds swept overhead, followed by the obligatory spots of rain.

She opened the car and slumped into the driver’s seat. Gerry started talking. ‘I can shoot some of the scenery. Get a shot of the exteriors, the roads, the surgery. Maybe we could get someone to show us around the—what did they call it in the file—cottage hospital? I could even get a few shots of the ferry docking and leaving.’

‘That will fill about five minutes of film when it’s all edited down,’ she groaned. She leaned forward and banged her head on the steering wheel. ‘Why didn’t I get the museum curator in Cairo? The person who is training to be an astronaut? Why did I have to get the grumpy Scottish doctor?’ She thumped her head again, just to make sure Gerry understood just how frustrated she was.

‘Kinda good looking, though,’ he said unexpectedly.

‘What?’ She sat back up and shot him a weird look.

‘I said, he’s kind of good looking. And that cross demeanour? I think some folks might like it.’

Kristie shook her head. ‘At this rate the whole first episode will have to be subtitled. Did you hear how fast he talks? And how thick that accent is?’

Gerry gave a slow appreciative nod as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘He’s practically got Highland warrior stamped on his forehead.’ He twisted towards her and tapped one finger on his chin, looking thoughtful. ‘Hey? What do you think your chances are of getting him in a kilt?’

It was no use. Her brain was clearly switching off, and Gerry’s was clearly switching on. She just couldn’t function.

She let out a kind of whimper. ‘Blooming Arran. I need food, a shower and a bed. Tell me you know where our hotel is.’

Gerry smiled. ‘It’s about a five-minute drive from here. And it’s not a hotel. It’s a cottage. Apparently accommodation can be tricky here. There’re only a few hotels, but some holiday lets. We’ll be lucky if we stay in the same place twice.’

Kristie put both hands on the steering wheel and started the engine. ‘Just tell me which direction.’ Her head was starting to thump. It was probably the jet-lag and a bit of dehydration. If she couldn’t get something in the can in the next three days she would be toast. Her career was already dangling by a thread. Another failure against her name and Louie would be right—no one would want to work with her.

She was going to have to try all her Kristie charm on Dr Grump. Because if she didn’t, who knew what could happen next?

* * *

They were sitting in his waiting room—again. Patients had already started asking questions. Some were even volunteering to be filmed. Three days of this every month for the next year?

He’d checked with his union. Apparently the TV contract was standard, and the appendix regarding patient consent was similar to one used by other TV series. As long as consent was granted and paperwork completed, there was no reason for him not to continue.

Truth was, he’d heard this news one day ago, but still couldn’t bring himself to tell the TV crew. The guy—Gerry—permanently looked as if he could go to sleep at the drop of the hat, whereas his counterpart—Kristie—looked more wound up than the tightest spring.

Pam, one of the secretaries, stuck her head around the door. She had a sheaf of messages in her hand. ‘Hospital called. X-ray problems again. Mrs McTaggart needs her painkillers upped. John Henderson phoned—sounded terrible—I’ve put him down for a house call, and...’ She paused for a second, giving him a wary look. ‘And I’ve got his permission to take the film crew.’

Rhuaridh’s head flicked up from the bunch of prescriptions he’d been signing. Pam sighed. She was another member of staff that he’d inherited from his father, meaning she knew him better than most. ‘You did what?’

Pam never pandered to him. ‘Magda had already gone through all the patient permissions with me. So I’ve started getting them. Now hurry up and take that woman out of my waiting room before she spontaneously combusts.’ Pam spun around and left, not giving him any chance to respond.

Rhuaridh leaned back in his chair and glanced at his watch. Nearly three p.m. He could do this. A few hours today, then all of tomorrow and he wouldn’t have to see them again for another month. He tried to rationalise it in his brain. How bad could this be?

He pasted his best kind of smile on his face and walked outside.

* * *

Finally. He’d finally graced them with his presence.

There were only so many outdoor shots they could film on Arran—and Gerry had shot them all. Filler time, to use around the actual, proper filming. The thing they didn’t have a single second of.

For a second yesterday, as they’d sat in the waiting room all day, she’d had half a mind to try and put a secret camera in this guy’s room. It wasn’t that she didn’t know all the unethical issues with this, it was just that she was feeling that desperate.

And after two days of waiting, Rhuaridh Gillespie gave them a half-nod of his head. ‘I’ve checked things out. We need to go to the local hospital. You’ll need to sort out your permissions with the patients when you get there.’

She refused to let that make her mad. She’d already spent part of the night before meeting the nurse manager in charge at the hospital and sorting out all the paperwork with the long-stay patients.

She hadn’t let Gerry see that she’d actually been sick outside before they’d entered. She’d been determined that she had to get the first visit to the place over and done with. Once they’d got inside and made the obligatory introductions she’d stuck her hands in her pockets so no one could see them shaking. If she’d had any other choice, she would have walked away from filming inside a hospital. But the fact was, there wasn’t another choice. It was this, or nothing. So she’d pushed all her memories into a box and tried to lock it up tight.

Once the horrible squirming feeling in her stomach had finally disappeared, she’d decided that distraction was the best technique so she’d spent some time talking with some of the older patients, and had already decided to go back and interview a few of them on camera.

So by the time they joined Rhuaridh in his black four-by-four and he drove down the road to the hospital she felt a bit better prepared and that horrible ominous sensation had diminished a little. The journey only took a few minutes.

It became pretty clear in the first moments after they entered the hospital that Rhuaridh wasn’t going to give them any chance to prepare, lightwise, soundwise or anything-wise. It was almost as if he was determined to ignore them.

Gerry murmured, ‘I can work around him.’

Kristie straightened her spine. If she didn’t start to get some decent filming soon she could kiss her career goodbye. But there was a little fire of anger burning down inside her. She didn’t let people ignore her. And she’d checked the contract, she knew exactly what Dr Gillespie was getting in return for doing this. He owed her three days of filming every month, and if this guy didn’t start to deliver, she wouldn’t hesitate to remind him.

But Kristie knew, at least for now, she should try and ease him into this filming. Maybe the guy was nervous. Maybe he was shy. Or maybe the guy was just a jerk. Part of her was mad. Did he have any idea how hard she was finding this? Obviously not. But whatever it was that was eating him, she had less than a day and a half to find out.

‘So, Dr Gillespie, can you tell me about the first patient we’ll be seeing?’

She could see the muscles under his white shirt tense. The ones around the base of his neck were particularly prominent. She nodded to Gerry to keep filming as Rhuaridh muttered a few unintelligible words.

‘To the camera, Dr Gillespie,’ she said smoothly.

He blinked and turned towards her just as Gerry flicked on their extra light. She almost stepped back. Resentment and annoyance seemed to ooze from every pore. For a second she was sure he was going to say no.

So she moved quickly. ‘In fact, let’s start with introductions. Face the camera, I’ll introduce you, then you can tell the viewers a little about yourself.’ She shot him a look, then added in a quiet voice, ‘And don’t mumble.’

She would never normally do things like this. Usually she would go over all the introductory questions with their subject, check their responses, and make sure everyone was comfortable before they started filming. But the fact was—on this occasion—they just didn’t have the time.

Before he had a chance to object she turned to the camera and gave her widest smile. ‘Hi, there, folks. It’s Kristie Nelson here, and I’m your host for...’ She realised her mistake almost instantly, but no one watching would notice it. Did this guy know he was going to be called a Hot Highland Doc for the next year? Maybe better to keep some things quiet, this was already an uphill struggle.

She was smooth. She’d been doing this too long. ‘A Year in the Life of...’ She let her voice tail off and held both hands towards Rhuaridh. ‘Our doctor. And here he is, this is Rhuaridh Gillespie and he works on the Isle of Arran. Dr Gillespie, can you tell us a little bit about your background and the work that you do?’

Rhuaridh did his best impression of a deer in the headlights. She gave him a little nudge in the ribs and he actually started.

He stared at the camera. Gerry kept it still while he stuck his head out from behind the viewfinder and mouthed, ‘Go,’ to him.

Rhuaridh gave the tiniest shudder that Kristie was sure only she could see before he started talking. ‘Yes, hi, thanks. I’m Rhuaridh Gillespie. I grew up on this island—Arran—before leaving to train in Glasgow as a doctor, then I’ve worked in a number of other hospitals, and for Doctors Without Borders. I trained as a GP—a general practitioner—like my father, then came back last year to take over the practice when my father...’ he paused for a split second before quickly finding a word ‘...retired.’

She was surprised. He was doing better than expected, even though he still looked as though he didn’t want to be there.

‘Can you tell the viewers a little about Arran?’ she asked.

‘It’s an island,’ he said, as though she’d just asked a ridiculous question.