Rowena sighed as the pickup gathered speed. She could see the new man’s hair curling sweetly around the curve of his ear and over the brown cord collar of his waxed jacket. Dad was wittering on about the flight and telling the man how much he was going to enjoy Failte. Give Dad his due, it sounded so sincere and welcoming, but Rowena had heard the same spiel each time a new one arrived at the airport.
She was glad that last one had gone. Sam Fulton had given her the creeps. Dad had kept a real good eye on him, though. Mum had insisted on that. After Sister Angelica’s abrupt departure, the Glasgow man had sought out Rowena’s company just a bit too often. She’d been pretty uncomfortable with him, not liking the way he joked about women as if they were all an inferior species. it was all a bit of fun, he’d told her. No harm meant. But Rowena had kept her distance from him all the same. Dad never told any of them what a patient’s background was. She understood how it was important to maintain their privacy. She wouldn’t like any of them to know all of her secrets either, Dad had once pointed out. Still, she had the feeling that Mum knew more about Sam Fulton than she was letting on. And this fact alone had increased her uneasiness. Still, he was gone now, back to Glasgow, supposedly over the worst of his depression.
Rowena smiled to herself. The new patient had shaken her hand as if she was a proper grownup, not some silly wee schoolgirl. She recalled his grave eyes and that tired, kindly smile. She’d maybe ask him to come for a wee walk up the road with the dog after dinner, though Dad liked his guests, as he called them, to have complete rest after they arrived. Still, this one was only here for a long weekend.
Funny about the other man, though. They’d waited for him yesterday with a placard that said Failte in bold lettering, but nobody from the Glasgow flight had acknowledged them. Dad had phoned Mrs Baillie who had shrugged it off but there was always a worry that somehow a patient would simply slip past them and roam about the island, unsupervised. it hadn’t happened yet, but there was always a first time, Mum had warned them. Still, they had another new one now.
Rowena settled back to enjoy her thoughts. She’d rehearse what to say before they went out. Then maybe she’d be able to slip in questions about that Dr Brightman. Had they met at the Grange? Was he married? Her fantasy continued down towards the house, the passing landscape a familiar blur of greens and blues.