A Doctor to Heal Her Heart

by Annie Claydon

  ‘Yeah. She took something...’ Jamie pursed his lips. ‘But a week before that she lent me her old laptop because mine was really struggling and I needed to get one of my college assignments in. I used her email to send a couple of questions to my tutor.’

  ‘Right.’ Euan had been hoping that he was wrong, but it didn’t look too much like it.

  ‘And when I picked up the emails again to get his reply, there were some others for Kirsty. I wasn’t snooping, they just appeared...’

  Sam nodded. ‘Yeah, they would. Until you change the settings on the old one, both laptops will pick up her emails—’

  Jamie cut her short. ‘That’s not what I mean. I haven’t given the laptop back yet because she’s been in hospital. And last night I went back and looked at her mail.’

  Sam was frowning, clearly lost as to the point of this conversation.

  ‘There’s an email that just gives a date, a place and a time. It’s the Saturday evening before she took the overdose.’

  Understanding crept across her face. Euan wished there was some way he could shut this conversation down, but he knew full well that if it didn’t happen here and now, it would happen at some other place, some other time. Jamie was like a dog with a bone and he wasn’t going to let go of this easily.

  ‘And you think that the email’s from the person who supplied her with the drugs.’

  Jamie nodded triumphantly. ‘I’ve seen on the television where they trace things back and find the computer they came from. There’s a map and it zooms right in on the house...’

  ‘Well, that’s on the TV.’ Sam seemed to understand the need to keep a sense of proportion here. ‘You can’t always do that in real life.’

  ‘But you can sometimes?’ Jamie wasn’t letting this go.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve got her laptop in the van.’ Jamie turned and made for the door, as if everything else went without saying.

  ‘Whoa, hold up there, Jamie.’ It was time for Euan to step in. ‘First of all, why would someone use their own email address to set up a drugs sale?’

  ‘They might have spoofed the address. There’s a way to get around that and see where an email originally came from.’ Sam fell silent as Euan glared at her. She might be right technically, but the comment wasn’t helpful.

  ‘Okay, so it’s possible. Jamie, the police and the drug agencies are handling it. You don’t need to get involved with this.’

  ‘Yes. I do.’ Jamie gave him a truculent look.

  ‘So what do you think you’re going to do?’ Euan asked.

  ‘Sam can find out where the email’s coming from, she said so just now. And then we find the people who gave the drugs to Kirsty and we do something about it, instead of just sitting around talking about feedback.’ He spat the word out as if it was some kind of poison.

  ‘Jamie, I know you’re angry—’

  ‘Damn right I’m angry! Just tell me what you’re doing about it, Euan.’ Jamie pushed his face up close to Euan’s in ferocious defiance.

  ‘Stop it, you two. Right now.’ Sam’s voice was suddenly so assertive that even Euan blinked, and Jamie jumped back suddenly. Euan bit back the temptation to defend himself and claim that it wasn’t he who was being reckless, deciding that sounded a bit too much like a kid caught fighting in the street.

  ‘Now, look here.’ She turned the full force of her stare onto Jamie, and all Euan could think about was that he was glad it wasn’t him. ‘Sometimes you can trace the source of an email from the data that comes with it. Sometimes you can’t, it depends on how the person’s sent the email. If it’s from a web client then all you’ll get is the IP address of the host servers...’

  ‘What?’ Jamie’s expression turned from defiance to grudging incomprehension.

  ‘Okay. Take my word for it, there are loads of different ways to send an email and not all of them can be traced. If...’ She gave Jamie a look of the utmost severity ‘If it’s possible to trace the email, and if it’s from who you think, then you might get some idea of where someone was two weeks ago. Is that enough?’

  Jamie sighed. ‘No. Not really.’

  She nodded and the steel in her voice gave way to warmth. ‘I’m sorry, Jamie. That’s how it is.’ Then she turned to Euan.

  If he’d thought he was going to be the one who got off lightly in this, the expression on her face shut that possibility down straight away. ‘The police and the drug agencies are handling this, right?’

  ‘Right.’ Under the intensity of her stare he felt like a child being brought to account for its actions. And also a man. He felt like a man who wanted to see what might happen if his own spirit clashed with hers. What kind of fireworks that might produce.

  ‘And you think that’s enough information? Enough for anyone who’s lost a friend?’

  She hadn’t noticed her own slip of the tongue. Jamie hadn’t lost a friend. Maybe Sam had. But he’d promised not to go there. ‘Perhaps not.’

  ‘There’s no perhaps about it. It isn’t.’ Something like fire sparked in her grey eyes.

  ‘You’ve made your point. I could have said more.’ He turned to Jamie. ‘The police have already interviewed Kirsty—’

  ‘What? She’s still in hospital, for crying out loud. What the hell are they doing, upsetting her?’ Jamie’s passion flashed to the surface again and Euan held up his hand.

  ‘They sent a policewoman in plain clothes, who treated her very gently. I was there for her the whole time. We talked about it with her parents first, and Kirsty decided she’d rather not have them present during the interview.’

  Jamie sighed. ‘She wouldn’t have wanted to upset them.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to upset you either.’

  ‘She doesn’t need to worry about that. I’ve been there, remember.’

  Euan took a moment to consider his reply. This was what Jamie needed to hear, but maybe Sam needed to hear it as well. ‘Being close to a drug abuser isn’t easy, and it’s okay to have your own feelings about that.’

  ‘But the email...’ It looked as if Euan wasn’t getting through to either of them. Sam was shaking her head slightly, and Jamie was still protesting.

  ‘Kirsty’s given permission for the police to look at her laptop, the new one that she uses now, and all her emails will be on there. They have forensic IT capabilities and if there’s any information to be had, they’ll get it. In the meantime, they’ve put out a warning.’

  ‘Wait,’ Sam broke in. ‘A warning?’

  ‘There’s a particularly dangerous batch of cocaine on the streets. In this situation the police and drugs agencies issue warnings.’

  Jamie snorted. ‘Yeah. Don’t take cocaine, but if you absolutely have to, don’t take that cocaine.’

  ‘It’s the best we can do for now, Jamie. We’re just trying to keep people alive. Give yourself a break and let me deal with the rest. I’ll keep you informed.’

  Euan held his hand out to Jamie, and they shook on the deal. Sam gave a satisfied nod, shot them both a look that promised deep trouble if either of them went back on the agreement and excused herself.

  ‘She’s scary when she wants to be.’ Jamie was staring after her with undisguised admiration.

  ‘Yeah. Tell me about it.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  SAM GOT THE key for the staff lavatory from Liz, and locked herself inside. Filling the small handbasin, she splashed her face with cold water.

  She was shaking. She’d resolved to keep her own counsel, be an observer. Blend into the walls. But the atmosphere here, where everyone seemed to say whatever was on their mind, was infectious. She was going to have to be more circumspect in future.

  She stared at herself in the mirror. This was a world of grey areas, of if and maybe and we just have to do our best.
Not at all what she’d expected and it was getting to her. She just needed to take a step back. That’s if Euan didn’t invoke one of his mysterious rules and ban her from the place altogether.

  Sam pulled a towel from the dispenser and scrubbed her face with it. She’d wanted this. She might have bitten off more than she could chew, but she’d make it work. A dash of lipstick, and she’d be able to face the world, Euan included.

  ‘Sam! Euan’s been looking for you.’ Liz looked up as Sam put the key back onto the reception desk in front of her. ‘If you hurry, you’ll catch him.’

  ‘What’s the rush?’ Sam had just been doing breathing exercises in front of the mirror to calm herself and it seemed a bit of a shame to ruin it all now.

  ‘There’s been a call from the police. They want Euan to check on someone...’

  ‘He works for the police?’ Was this yet another responsibility that Euan had forgotten to tell her about?

  ‘Occasionally. Usually when there are drugs involved.’ Liz flapped her hands at Sam. ‘Don’t just stand there...’

  Euan was already behind the wheel of his car when the street door of the clinic slammed behind her, and he leaned across, opening the passenger door for her. ‘Are you up for this?’

  ‘Yes.’ She climbed into the car. ‘I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have intervened between you and Jamie.’

  He looked at her as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. ‘I thought it was a very helpful addition to the discussion.’

  ‘Right. Well, it won’t happen again.’

  He shrugged. ‘If you say so.’

  She stuck close to Euan as he strode into the police station. ‘She’s with me.’ He didn’t stop to go into details with the officer at the desk, and the buzz of a door-release mechanism sounded.

  A policewoman met them on the other side, smiling at Euan. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  ‘Glad to help. Sam...this is PC Lisa Burroughs.’ He waved his hand in a hurried introduction as they walked. ‘Sam’s working with the charity.’

  Lisa scrutinised her for a moment and then nodded briefly before turning her attention back to Euan. ‘This guy’s new on our patch, no one’s seen him before, and he’s pretty much non-responsive. He was arrested, but he’s being released now. We can’t tell what’s up with him—drugs or some kind of mental problem. He’s in quite a bad state and I’d like you to take a look at him. It would be good if we could get him the appropriate help.’

  Lisa showed them into an interview room. A man was sitting, hunched over the table. He was dirty, and even though the day was warm, he seemed to be wearing many layers of clothes.

  Euan dumped his bag by the door with a glance at Sam that told her to stay there. He approached the man and pulled a chair up to sit down opposite him.

  ‘Hello, there, mate.’

  No response.

  ‘I’m a doctor, my name’s Euan Scott. What can I call you?’

  Nothing.

  ‘Have they given you a cup of tea?’

  The man raised his head slightly. Somewhere there was the flicker of acknowledgement that Euan was looking for. ‘Lisa...’

  Lisa nodded. ‘And a bacon sandwich?’

  ‘Thanks.’ Euan gave her a broad grin and turned his attention back to the man in front of him. ‘You’re in luck. They do a pretty respectable bacon sandwich here.’

  It took ten minutes of gentle cajoling before George gave up his name. Ten more before he would allow Euan to touch him so that he could examine him. Euan was patient, and respectful, talking to George as if he were a private patient paying hundreds of pounds for his time.

  ‘You’re a soldier, then?’ When Euan had opened George’s heavy overcoat, something had caught his eye and he gestured towards a dirty medal ribbon pinned onto his plaid shirt.

  That seemed a touch too much like conversation for George and he glared at Euan.

  ‘Regiment?’ Euan tried again. ‘Army number?’

  George seemed to straighten and he muttered a reply. Euan wrote the numbers down on the pad that lay on the desk. ‘Sam, can I have my stethoscope, please?’

  Right. Stethoscope. Must be in the bag at her feet. Sam tugged at the zip and found what he needed, stepping forward to hand it to him.

  For a moment George’s eyes focussed on her, and Sam realised suddenly that he was probably only in his thirties. Perhaps she should say something or hold out her hand. Perhaps not. Euan was wearing surgical gloves and she probably shouldn’t let George touch her. She felt the back of her neck redden.

  ‘That’s great. Thanks.’ Euan met her gaze and nodded. ‘Can you see if you can find some antiseptic wipes in there?’

  ‘Right. Antiseptic wipes.’ She stepped back again, feeling both relieved and guilty. George was one of the invisible men, the ones who were ignored by the world in general. Even when she’d been jolted out of her own little world, and had stopped to buy a magazine or give coffee or food to someone in need, she’d always been too afraid to make eye contact.

  Euan wasn’t afraid. She could see it in his body language, the way he dealt with George. He was a man, not just a bundle of dirty clothes. He finished his examination and ushered both Sam and Lisa out of the room.

  ‘There’s evidence of sustained alcohol abuse. I’ll call one of the ex-servicemen’s charities, see if they can help.’

  Lisa nodded. ‘Right. Can I leave it with you?’

  ‘Yes. Give me ten minutes.’

  * * *

  ‘So someone’s going to come and pick him up?’ Sam was sitting in the front seat of Euan’s car, wondering whether it was her imagination or not that the smell of stale liquor seemed to have followed them out of the police station and down the road.

  ‘Yes. They’ll get him a bed for the night, and if they can hold onto him he’ll get the treatment he needs. It looks as if he has some kind of psychiatric problem, maybe delayed PTSD. Maybe something else entirely.’

  It didn’t seem much of an answer, but Sam knew that it was the best that Euan could give. Both he and Lisa had done their best for George. She tried to comfort herself that at least he was in the hands of the right people now.

  ‘What’ll happen to him?’ she asked.

  ‘I honestly don’t know.’

  * * *

  And so the day continued. People turned up at the clinic, wanting medical help or needing just to talk. Euan moved from one case to the next, seemingly tireless, but by the end of the day Sam was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

  The next two days weren’t much better. Euan had given her exactly what she’d asked for, allowing her to shadow him without prying into her own thoughts and feelings about what she saw. She was alone and rudderless, trying to make sense of things that couldn’t be rationalised or explained. Sam was beginning to think that she should have been more careful about what she’d wished for.

  ‘Are you finished for today?’ He strode into his surgery on Thursday afternoon with as much energy and enthusiasm as he’d had that morning. How did he do that?

  ‘No, I’m still making changes to the database.’ It was going to be another late night, tonight.

  ‘Can’t you do that tomorrow? You’ve got the day free, remember, as it’s my day off.’

  Sam hesitated. The thought was tempting. Spend an evening with Euan and then fall into bed. She adjusted the thought. Spend an evening with him then go back to the flat and fall into her bed. ‘I’d forgotten about that. I suppose...’

  He grinned. ‘You need a break. Put that away and come with me.’ When Sam didn’t move, he walked over and peered over her shoulder at the screen.

  ‘I’m closing you down in three...’ One finger hovered at the top of the screen, threatening to snap the laptop shut.

  ‘Wait...wait...’ Sam hit the but
ton to save her work. He seemed ever so close all of a sudden.

  ‘One...’ She could smell his skin. Soap and something else that was making her tremble. Something she couldn’t place, but it was his alone, and it made her think of sex.

  ‘Two...’

  ‘Wait...’ Her bare arm brushed his, and the back of her neck started to tingle. She was sure she could feel his breath on her skin, and all of a sudden she’d forgotten how to close down her own database.

  ‘And a half.’

  ‘Don’t rush me.’ The ‘Close’ button came to her rescue, and then three keystrokes for sleep mode. Just as the screen went blank, Euan’s finger made contact, closing her laptop.

  ‘Three.’ He gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in, swivelling it around to face him.

  ‘What would you have done if my machine had crashed?’

  ‘I guess I’d be nursing a broken nose right now.’ He grinned provocatively. ‘Timing’s everything.’

  He was still gripping the arms of her chair, imprisoning her and leaning in impossibly close. She’d bet that his timing was absolutely perfect, and the thought made her shiver.

  ‘I thought we were going somewhere.’ She tapped the back of his hand with one finger. Even that degree of contact was one degree more than she could bear at the moment.

  Euan chuckled, suddenly all movement and searing, heart-aching life. Propelling himself upright, he walked to the door. ‘We are. How’s your head for heights?’

  ‘Okay. What did you have in mind?’

  ‘Just a little tour... Call it sightseeing.’

  They went back to the flat so Sam could fetch a warm jacket. Apparently this mysterious little tour was going to be chilly. Then they were on the road, driving out of town and into the countryside. Half an hour later they turned off a country lane and bumped across a field.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ There were parked cars, people and a barbeque. But all Sam could see were the six brightly coloured hot-air balloons at the far end of the field. ‘We’re going to watch?’

  Euan chuckled. ‘Watching’s not as much fun as taking a ride.’