500 Miles from You (Scottish Bookshop #3)(43)

She put an old-fashioned kettle on the stove, then picked up a list from the messy sideboard. What a comforting room this was, Lissa found herself thinking. She started unpacking her kit.

“Hari needs his MMR booster, but I don’t think Patrick has had his at all.”

Lissa frowned. “But . . . I thought they were twins.”

Zoe yelped with laughter. “Boys!” she shouted. “Stop it! Nobody believes you’re twins, and you’re just confusing people!”

“We are absolutely nearly twins,” said Patrick, and Hari nodded solemnly, pointing at his dungarees as proof.

“Isn’t it clear they’re not related?” said Zoe, still smiling as she poured out tea.

“I’ve met mixed-race twins before who looked different races,” said Lissa.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, absolutely. Fascinating.”

“She absolutely thinks we’re twins, Nanny Seven,” said Patrick.

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Right,” she said. “Patrick is five.”

“And a half.”

“Five and a half, and he’s Shackleton’s little brother . . . half brother. Did Joan not explain this all to you?”

“She just said it was complicated, then went back to reading a book about cow operations.”

“That does sound like Joan,” mused Zoe. “Okay. She’s right, it’s complicated. Hari’s mine and the rest are Ramsay’s. Oh, actually, that’s not too complicated when you think about it.”

“Zoe and Ramsay are in love,” said Patrick. “And that is why we are now absolutely twins.”

“Aye,” said Hari, nodding his head to emphasize the wisdom of Patrick’s pronouncement.

Zoe colored. “Oh well,” she said.

Lissa smiled. “Did you move all the way up here for a man?”

“Quite the opposite,” said Zoe. “I moved here to get away from one. Anyway, here we are.”

“Right,” said Lissa. The scones were delicious, but it was time to get moving. She washed her hands carefully in the big old butler’s sink, then looked around for a place to line the children up.

A thin, sallow girl loped in, looking anxious. “I hate medical things,” she said.

“You hate everything,” said Shackleton. “What? Just saying.”

Zoe shot him a look and put her arms around the girl. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m right here.”

“I’m just sick of nurses.”

“It’ll be quick. But then you’ll be safe. And I don’t want you to catch the measles.”

“Mum didn’t either!”

“Of course she didn’t.” Zoe held the girl closer. “We’ll get through this, I’ll get some bought cake for later.”

The girl smiled.

“Oi!” said Shackleton. “What’s wrong with my cake?”

“Bought cake! Bought cake!” the little ones were already shouting, clasping hands in delight.

Zoe smiled. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s a bit of a madhouse here.”

It didn’t look like a madhouse, Lissa thought. It looked lovely. A fire burned in the big kitchen grate and a large dog was wandering about aimlessly, and there were pictures on the wall and music blaring and a stew on the stove, and she couldn’t help herself feeling envious all of a sudden.

“You like it here, then?” she said.

“Oh yes,” said Zoe, sounding heartfelt. “Oh yes, I really do.”

She saw Lissa’s face.

“But it took a while, I promise.”

“I’m only here for a bit. But I like it too!”

“Well, try and enjoy it,” said Zoe, laughing. “Right, shall we move them somewhere slightly more hygienic than a kitchen with a dog in it and flour everywhere?”

They pushed open the door to a beautiful sitting room lined with books, and Zoe sat all the children on a slippery ottoman.

“Ramsay!” she yelled up the stairway, and just about the tallest man Lissa had ever seen came downstairs and draped his arms over Zoe’s shoulders.

“Ah,” he said, looking embarrassed. “Yes. I’ve been meaning to . . . yes. Well.”

“Have you got their red books?” asked Lissa.

The very tall man frowned. “Ah. The thing is . . . I have about ten thousand books, and, well, I’m not . . .”

Lissa produced three new health books from her bag—Hari’s was in perfect order—and made Zoe and Ramsay fill them all in while the children shifted uncomfortably and Patrick attempted to get into a kicking match with Mary, who finally grabbed a book off a shelf and moved to the window seat to ignore him.

“Shall I put both twins down on the one form?” asked Ramsay wryly as he filled in the forms, and Zoe shot him a look.

“Stop it! You’re making everything worse.”

“Yes, twins,” announced Patrick, and the boys started marching around the room singing a loud song as Zoe gave Ramsay an “I told you so” look.

“Okay, okay,” said Lissa, checking the syringes. “We’re ready.”

Silence fell on the cheery room. Sighing, Shackleton rolled up his sleeve. Everyone watched him as he stoically endured the double injections. Patrick and Hari looked at each other.