The question drummed against her temples, pulling them taut, causing her forehead to ache. She closed her eyes and laid her head back.
‘Are you okay?’ The tall man … Ben … sounded tense.
She opened her eyes, then realised he was probably worried she’d slipped into unconsciousness, but it was a far more mundane reason than that: even though it wasn’t noon yet, she was utterly exhausted. ‘Yes … Yes, I’m fine … Or as fine as I think as I can be, given the situation.’
He nodded and turned his attention back to the road.
She’d tried to tell him she’d get the bus to the hospital, but he wouldn’t have it. Anyway, he’d very correctly pointed out that she had no money, which had kind of decided things for her. And that she’d already been on a bus that morning and had got all … confused.What if it happened again?he’d asked. The thought made her head ache even more than it already did.
She looked out the window, finding the colours and the light soothing. Bracken and heather painted the hills with swathes of rust, ochre, and olive, beneath a sky created from a palette of greys. ‘Thank you … for doing this.’
‘You don’t have to keep saying that, you know.’
She flushed. ‘I just feel bad about taking you away from your family, or whatever plans you had for today. I don’t expect a trip to the community hospital was top of your list.’
He made a huff that could have been a grudging laugh. ‘Nope.’
‘Tell me about yourself,’ she said, and when he didn’t answer, she glanced across at him. He was giving her a really strange look.‘Well, someone’s got to make conversation. And the fact I can’t tell you about my life is the reason we’re heading to the hospital in the first place.’
‘Good point,’ he said, staring straight ahead again. For a moment or two, she thought he was going to ignore her request, but eventually he said, ‘I live with my aunt at the B&B, along with my niece, Willow. We’ve just bought some holiday cottages from someone retiring from the business, but they need a bit of updating and repairing. That’s where I would have been going today, to do some odd jobs.’
‘Sorry …’
‘You’ve said that almost as many times as you’ve said “thank you”.’
‘I just—’
‘I know … You feel bad. But it’s nothing I can’t catch up on tomorrow. Besides, if our situations were reversed, wouldn’t you help someone in your shoes?’
‘I would. At least IhopeI would.’ She had nothing to go on, obviously. Maybe she was a right cow and wouldn’t have lifted a finger … but if she stilled her mind, concentrated on what wasinsideherself, that was the truth she found there.
‘There you go.’
They arrived at the small hospital in Lochgilphead about half an hour later, where she was seen by a triage nurse, had some bloods taken, and then was put through a dizzying round of tests – blood pressure, temperature, EEG, reflexes, a CT scan – andsomany questions. Finally, almost four hours into the ordeal, she was actually ready to see a doctor.
He led her into a consulting room and invited her to sit down. ‘Good afternoon. I’m the duty psychologist here, Dr Manzar.’He glanced towards the door. ‘Would you like your partner in here with you?’
‘Oh!’ The thought anyone might assume she and Ben were together hadn’t even crossed her mind. ‘He’s not my partner …’ she said, aware of a flare of warmth in her belly as the suggestion burrowed itself into her consciousness, ‘but he is my friend.’
Some might quibble that label, possibly even Ben himself, but he’d been by her side almost constantly since the incident at the café. There was something oddly steadying and familiar about his presence, and – for the moment, at least – he was the only person she knew in the world. Not only could she do with some moral support, but a second pair of ears to digest and remember what the doctor had to say would also be useful.
The doctor got up, opened the door, and motioned for Ben to come inside.
‘Dr Manzar?’ he said as he came in, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m Ben Robertson,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Catriona Robertson was my sister. I came along to a couple of appointments with her – oh, about six years ago.’
The doctor stopped looking perplexed, and he smiled broadly at Ben. ‘Oh, yes! I remember now. That means Norina must also be your aunt. Whenever I have family visiting, I always recommend Fernpoint B&B. Invergarrig is the perfect place from which to explore this area.’
Ben smiled and shrugged as he sat down on the empty plastic chair. ‘I’ve been roped into helping her out there.’
The doctor nodded. ‘Well, it’s nice to see you again.’ He grew more serious. ‘And I was so sorry to hear about Catriona.’
Something had happened to his sister? She glanced across at Ben. A shadow had fallen across his expression.
‘Well … You’re a most unusual case,’ Dr Manzar said to her. ‘The reason for all the tests was to rule out any underlying medical condition that might be causing your memory loss, but I’m pleased to say everything has come back negative. There’s no indication of a head injury, infection, or seizure.’
