A Doctor To Heal Her Heart. Annie Claydon
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of working with those kinds of body image issues.’
‘Will you be doing different things here than at the residential centre?’
‘Yeah. This place is ideal for clinics and groups, because it’s central and easy to get to. The residential centre’s out of town, so it’s good for weekend conferences and long-stay patients.’
‘And people will pay for the residential centre?’
‘If they can afford it, they make a donation. We don’t turn anyone away on the basis of money, and everyone’s treated the same whether they pay or not.’
‘It all seems so...’ Sam couldn’t really think of the right word. She’d expected the place to have more rawness about it. ‘So calm here.’
Euan chuckled. ‘Today’s a good day. We try to keep the atmosphere here relaxed, but it’s not always like this. Getting the better of an addiction is a long, tough process.’
‘But you guide people through that. Bring them back.’ She wanted to hear that Euan could single-handedly move mountains. Save the world. Someone needed to, because she couldn’t.
He was suddenly sombre, sitting down opposite her in one of the chairs reserved for his patients.
‘We can’t bring them all back. The clinic has a great success rate, but we can’t work miracles. Some of our clients will stop taking drugs altogether, some modify their habit and...some we lose.’
Her throat was suddenly dry. ‘But surely... Once someone wants to give up drugs, and they get help...’
‘That’s a great start. But addiction’s a powerful thing. Wanting to give up and getting the appropriate help is the first, all-important step on a very long road. Many of our clients have been through rehab more than once.’
‘How do you deal with that?’ Sam could hear an edge of desperation in her voice. For the last two years she’d thought that if only Sally had said something about her drug-taking, everything would have been okay. It hadn’t been much of a comfort, but it had been something to hold onto in a world of ever-shifting pain, and now Euan was snatching it away.
He leaned forward, his gaze searching her face as if he was trying to fathom out what she was really asking of him. ‘Sometimes I don’t. There are times when not being able to deal with something might be the most appropriate reaction.’
Sam would have to think about the implications of that statement. Later. ‘But you’re still here.’
‘Yep. So are you.’
Touché. Sam had her own reasons for that, and clearly Euan did too. She picked up her pencil and tried to think of a less demanding question.
‘What time does the clinic stay open until?’
‘Eleven o’clock. But my shift ends in ten minutes. I’m on call, but only for emergencies.’ His lips twitched into a smile. ‘Do you like Chinese?
That sounded like a trick question. ‘It depends...’
‘In that case, you’ll like the place I’ve booked for dinner.’ He grinned at her discomfiture. ‘A working dinner.’
‘Oh, so you’re going to make me sing for my supper, are you?’ Almost against her will she smiled back at him.
‘Were you thinking of clocking off yet?’
No, she wasn’t. Working too many hours was a way to keep from thinking too much. And if she fell into bed exhausted every night, that just meant that she slept a bit better. She did have to eat, though.
‘Am I okay to go as I am?’ Sam looked at her cargo pants and sneakers.
‘You want to show me up?’ He placed a hand on his chest, laughing. ‘Although you can if you want. This place doesn’t have a dress code.’
It would be impossible to show Euan up. He could ruffle his hair all he liked, wear whatever leapt out of his wardrobe at him, and still look good. His broad shoulders and the show-me-more ripple of muscle under his casual shirt attested to the fact that he’d already put in all the work he needed to on his appearance.
‘I left my tiara at home. I’ll show you up next time.’
He grinned. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
* * *
When he ushered her out of the building he seemed to take a deep breath, sloughing off the cares of the day. They strolled down to the seafront together, walking along the promenade for half a mile, until Euan turned inland towards the centre of town.
‘Do you always go via the seafront?’ Sam was still getting her bearings, but she had an inkling that they probably could have cut ten minutes from their walk by taking a more direct route.
‘Usually.’ He grinned. ‘No point in living by the sea if you don’t grab as much ozone as you can.’
Sam jerked her thumb back towards the sea. ‘That’s the English Channel out there. I didn’t know there was any ozone...’
He chuckled. ‘Probably not. I like the beach, though.’ He made a sharp left, and opened the door of a glass-fronted restaurant, motioning her through.
Inside, there was already a hum of activity. Euan was clearly a regular, and the waitress who came to their table greeted him by name and handed Sam a menu, chatting to Euan while she scrutinised it.
Perhaps he brought his girlfriends here. No one seemed much interested in her, and Sam imagined he probably turned up with a different woman on a fairly regular basis. If he had a regular partner, she would have attracted more attention, and Euan was the kind of man who was unlikely to go short of female company...
‘Decided yet?’
Sam jumped and focussed her eyes back on the menu. ‘Um... What’s the Kung Po chicken like?’
‘Good. Very good,’ the waitress replied.
‘I’ll have that, then. With some rice and...’ The waitress nodded, scribbling her order down in Chinese characters on her pad.
‘Something to drink?’
‘Water, please. Sparkling.’ Sam never drank when she was working, and although tonight fell into a grey area somewhere between work and socialising, she needed to be careful around Euan. His job involved getting people to talk about how they felt, and he was obviously good at it. It would be horrifyingly easy to tell him her darkest secrets before she’d even realised it, and she wasn’t here for that.
He didn’t seem to make such distinctions, though. His work was intimately personal to him, bound up with feeling and hope and dreams. Even his discourse on health and safety procedures seemed more intimate than it should have been. Leaning across the table so that they could hear each other in the ever-increasing din of the restaurant, lost in the compelling magic of his eyes, it almost felt like a tryst.
‘So tell me something about yourself.’ They were waiting for their coffee now.
‘Not much to tell, really.’ She grinned at him. ‘I was born. I went to school, then university...’
‘Computer sciences?’
She nodded. ‘When we were at university together, my best friend and I had an idea. After we graduated, we thought we’d lose nothing by seeing if we could make something of it. We started off working from Sally’s parents’ spare bedroom.’
Even best friend didn’t cover it. The two girls had been seven years old when Sally had asked Sam back to her house one day, after Sam’s mother had become unavoidably detained by a bottle and some bad company and it had slipped her mind that she even had a daughter. With the benefit of hindsight, Sam could see that Sal’s mother had only needed to take one look at her to divine the situation, but she’d said nothing. Just laid an extra place at the table and made sure that Sam got home safely that night. After that,