by Anne Douglas
On Sunday, before she went back to Edinburgh, she’d have to get down to filling in the form Boyd had brought her, and think about the names of the two referees she’d have to provide. Her old headmistress would do for one, and the other – well, that would have to be Sister Nisbet, in charge of Women’s General. Here, alas, her spirits went rapidly downhill. She wasn’t exactly going to be the blue-eyed girl, was she, perhaps wanting to leave where she’d been trained?
Don’t think about speaking to Sister Nisbet, she told herself. Not just now. Put it right out of your mind and try to get some sleep. Which, surprisingly, was what she did.
Seven
The next day, though milder air had melted any ice, steady rain prevented a last walk. Instead, Isla concentrated on filling in her application form, finally letting Boyd read it through.
‘There you are. That should do it, eh?’ she asked.
‘Reads well – now all you need are your references.’
‘Don’t remind me. I’ll have to speak to Sister Nisbet when I get back.’
‘Now, why shouldn’t that Sister give you a good testimonial?’ Nan cried. ‘I’m sure you’ve always worked hard on the ward!’
‘She’ll think I’m being ungrateful – maybe wanting to go somewhere else when I trained at the Southern.’
‘A piece of nonsense,’ put in Will. ‘You don’t have to stay there for ever just because you trained there!’
But after they’d had their Sunday roast dinner and it was time for Isla to go for the train, she took no comfort in her parents’ support. They didn’t know Sister Nisbet …
‘Don’t worry,’ Boyd told her at the station. ‘I’ll take a small bet that you’ll get an interview, anyway, whatever happens with the Sister.’
‘Maybe.’ She smiled and gave him a hug as her train came steaming in, and said she’d be in touch.
‘This is all your doing, you know. I never in this world thought I’d be applying for a new job when I only came home for the weekend!’
‘Make it what you want,’ he told her seriously. ‘In the meantime, best of luck with Sister Nisbet!’
Luck, she thought, was what she’d need.
Back at the hospital, changing into uniform, she felt she’d been away for weeks. Greeting her colleagues, though, she judged it wasn’t the time to speak of her plans. Best catch Sister Nisbet first, and then – well, wait to see what happened.
See what happened? Just as Isla had expected, when she heard Isla’s request and her reason for it, the ward sister’s expression grew glacial.
‘You want to use my name as referee for your application to Lorne’s Hydro, Nurse Scott?’ she asked through tight lips. ‘Why ever would you be applying there?’
‘I’m … I’m sort of interested in the water cure, Sister. I mean, the hydro’s in my home town, so I’ve always known about it. Always wondered how it works.’
‘I’m sure you’re not alone in that. Some people believe in it, others don’t, and I can’t imagine why you’d want to leave the Southern to work there. After all we’ve done for you!’
‘I know, Sister, I’m very grateful – indeed I am – but I’d … well, I’d just like to maybe get an interview – see if Lorne’s is for me.’
For a long moment, Sister Nisbet fixed Isla with a cold, pale blue stare.
‘You’ve always worked well here, and I won’t refuse your request,’ she said at last, ‘but I’d like to advise you to take great care in making any decision you might in the future regret.’
‘Thank you, Sister. I do intend to make sure I do the right thing.’
‘Very well, then. If I am approached for a reference, I shall reply.’
‘I very much appreciate that, Sister. Thank you.’
After a brief nod, Sister Nisbet turned away and Isla, returning to her work, felt sweat on her palms and a thudding ache beginning in her head.
Oh, Lord, even the interview couldn’t be worse than that, she thought, but at least it was over and there was the promise of the reference, if Lorne’s wanted to follow her application up. As she moved quickly down the ward to see what the patient waving in the end bed wanted, Isla was, though, beginning to wish she’d never got involved in applying for a new post. Should have stayed where she was and not caused herself trouble.
‘All right, hen?’ asked Mrs Barnes as Isla brought her the glass of water she’d requested. ‘You’re looking a wee bit pale.’
‘Just tired,’ Isla told her, finding a smile. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’
And so she was, some days later, when she was asked to report for interview at Lorne’s Hydro at one thirty p.m. on a date at the end of January. At least she hadn’t fallen at the first hurdle and was going to get her chance to see the hydro. When she’d sent Boyd and her parents postcards with the news, she felt quite relieved, and only laughed when her colleagues told her she was crazy even to think of working with the water cure. That piece of nonsense!
‘All I’m doing is seeing what it’s all about,’ she told them, at which they only shrugged.
‘And getting on the wrong side of Sister Nesbit!’ someone commented, to which Isla had no answer.
All the same, they wished her luck the day before the interview, except, of course, for Sister Nesbit herself, who had grudgingly given her permission to take the day off and had said nothing of being approached for a reference. Ah, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, Isla told herself, and when the day came for her to dress for the interview in her dark jacket and skirt, with matching hat and polished black shoes, she managed to put Sister Nesbit from her mind and concentrate on what lay ahead.
At the appointed time on the following day, as heavy rain poured down beyond the portico, she was at the hydro’s handsome door, ringing the bell, and within moments was being admitted by a young, smartly dressed woman.
‘Do come in, Miss Scott,’ she said cheerfully, when Isla had introduced herself. ‘I’m Joan Elrick, Doctor Lorne’s secretary. If you’d like to let me take your raincoat, I’ll take you to the waiting room.’
Eight
Oh, no, we’re all wearing the same! Isla groaned inwardly when she entered the small room at the rear of the hydro, where two young women were already waiting, unread magazines to hand. But as they exchanged smiles, she realized it was only what she should have expected. They were nurses applying for a nurse’s post and wouldn’t be trying to look colourful and smart, just sensible and practical; the dark suits, the small hats and lace-up shoes were bound to be what they’d all choose. Yes, even as a fourth young woman was shown in, her fairish brown hair slipping from a knot under her hat, her face flushed from hurrying, it was plain enough that her outfit matched all the others. Hope the doctor can tell us apart, thought Isla, taking a chair.
‘Doctor Woodville will be showing you round before the interviews; he won’t be a moment,’ the secretary told them.
‘Are there just the four of us?’ asked a tall, bony young woman, who, with her height and her manner, looked as if she was on course for a Sister’s job at least.
‘Yes, just the four.’ As Joan Elrick smiled and withdrew, the young women looked at one another.
‘I thought I was going to be late,’ the latest arrival gasped, taking off her hat to pin up her hair. ‘Hello, everyone, I’m Margie MacCallum, from Dundee.’
‘Jess Dixon, from Glasgow,’ the bony young woman announced, while the third candidate said she was Penny Anderson from Musselburgh. All eyes then went to Isla, who gave her name and hesitated a moment.
‘I’m from right here in Edgemuir, oddly enough, but I work in Edinburgh at the Southern.’
‘So you’ll know all about the hydro?’ Penny asked, with some unease.
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
Glances were exchanged and a silence fell, to be broken by Jess Dixon, who asked abruptly what the Southern was like, as a place to work.
‘Not bad,’ Isla replied. ‘I’ve been happy there.’
‘Why d’
you want to work here, then?’
‘I think it might be interesting. Why do you?’
‘Well, the money’s better, for one thing. I love ma work but I don’t see why I shouldn’t be paid more.’
Nor did Penny or Margie, when you considered the way they were run off their feet. And all were nodding sagely when the door opened and a tall, sandy-haired young man in a white coat strode in.
‘Good morning, ladies! Welcome to Lorne’s Hydro. My name is Doctor Woodville. I’m Doctor Lorne’s assistant and will be showing you round for a short while before the interviews begin. Like to follow me?’
Exactly as they’d been shown in the brochure, the public rooms of the hydro were comfortable and cared for, well-polished and swept: the lounges with flower displays, the library with magazines and a writing desk as well as the expected books, the dining room furnished with small tables, now cleared after lunch.
‘Nice,’ whispered Penny, as they exchanged polite smiles with three middle-aged, well-dressed women in the library.
‘Like a good hotel,’ commented Jess when they withdrew, and Dr Woodville grinned.
‘True, it’s often said that hydros are like hotels, only with treatments. But we must move on – next stop, the gymnasium.’
A slight flush rose to Isla’s cheeks, which she hoped no one would notice. She hadn’t mentioned to the others that her brother worked at Lorne’s in case they’d thought it might give her some advantage, which, of course, it wouldn’t. But now that they were to meet him, she thanked heaven that Boyd was sensible: he wouldn’t speak to her as his sister in front of them.
And, of course, he didn’t. Excusing himself from the patient he was helping, Boyd moved to greet Dr Woodville and the candidates, his eyes meeting Isla’s only briefly, his smiles being for everyone, as the doctor introduced him.
‘Sorry to interrupt, Boyd and Mr Winterton – we won’t keep you a moment – just want our visiting nurses here to see the gymnasium. Ladies, meet Mr Scott, our instructor in PE, which we take very seriously here, as I think you can tell by the equipment we’ve provided.’
‘I’ll say!’ Jess exclaimed. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it in a hospital.’
‘Amazing,’ Margie and Penny agreed, but it didn’t escape Isla that their eyes were not so much on the gym equipment as the handsome gym instructor, and she would have smiled to herself, except that the doctor, with a thank you to Boyd, was hurrying them on. As she left the gym, she did glance back at Boyd, but was glad he didn’t risk a grin or wave that the others might have seen. Anyway, she was hoping now to visit the treatment rooms.
It turned out that these were situated in a large extension to the original hotel; a long, light-filled modern building of polished corridors and doors that opened, the candidates were told, to bathing pools, bathrooms, sauna and steam and massage rooms, though only those empty of patients were shown to them.
Everywhere, there were nurses, quick to smile at the visitors, and patients, some in dressing gowns, who looked at them with interest. And everywhere there was a calmness, almost a tranquillity, that would not have been found in the busy wards of a general hospital. In fact, when they were introduced to the sister in charge – a Sister Francis – and Isla mentioned how quiet everything was, she agreed that it was so.
‘Oh, yes, we like to keep everything peaceful here, don’t we, Doctor Woodville?’ she asked, her smile a wide beam. ‘Rest and peace – they’re part of our treatments. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must move on, but may I welcome you all to Lorne’s Hydro and say how lovely it is to meet you?’
‘What a nice boss she must be,’ Margie whispered as the sister left them. ‘No’ much like the ones I know.’
‘Snap,’ said Isla. ‘But she’d be the type they’d want here.’
Jess, meanwhile, was addressing Dr Woodville. ‘Doctor, are we allowed to see anyone actually having treatment here? Or is that no’ possible?’
‘I’m sorry to say it’s not, Miss Dixon.’ The doctor’s smile was rueful. ‘You see how it is? We can’t really invade the privacy of patients – it just wouldn’t do – but at least we’ve been able to show you the workplace, so that you can get some idea of what’s involved.’
‘That’s all right, Doctor,’ Margie told him. ‘We quite understand. We’ve all seen the brochures, anyway, and the pictures were very helpful.’
‘That’s excellent, excellent.’ He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘If there are any questions, Doctor Lorne himself will be glad to answer them, but now, I’m afraid, we must return to the waiting room. It’s almost time for the first interview.’
‘And I suppose that’ll be me?’ asked Penny, sighing. ‘If we’re being seen in alphabetical order.’
‘Spot on, Miss Anderson. You are first. Would you like a few moments to, er, freshen up?’
‘Oh, no, thanks, Doctor.’ Penny swallowed hard. ‘I’d just as soon get it over with.’
‘And there’ll be tea afterwards – that should cheer everyone up.’
‘As though it would, if we haven’t got the job,’ Jess muttered as they made their way back to the waiting room, but Isla was silent, disappointed that so far she’d not seen enough to know whether she wanted the job or not.
After Dr Woodville had left them and Miss Elrick had called Penny in for interview, a silence fell on the three young women waiting their turn.
‘Maybe we won’t be told today who’s got the job,’ Margie at last suggested. ‘Maybe it’ll come by a horrible letter.’
‘Maybe.’ Jess turned her eyes on Isla. ‘That handsome guy in the gym had the same name as you, eh? He any relation?’
Isla cleared her throat. ‘As a matter of fact, he’s my brother.’
‘Your brother?’ cried Margie. ‘Why, you never said!’
‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Jess coldly.
‘I … didn’t think it was important. He doesn’t have anything to do with the running of the hydro.’
‘Seems funny, all the same, that you didn’t say.’
Time passed. No one spoke, until Penny came back, all excited, Dr Lorne had been so nice, she hadn’t felt nervous at all – oh, it was a lovely interview!
Margie and Jess said the same, Jess perhaps not being quite so bubbly. Then, at last, it was Isla’s turn to be shown into Dr Lorne’s office, and she was taking her seat opposite the man of the picture in the brochure and thinking that in person he looked exactly the same. So kind, so understanding. A family man, of course, as was evident by the two framed photographs on his desk, one of a good-looking, dark-haired woman, the other of a pretty little dark-haired girl – surely his wife and daughter? But hadn’t Boyd said the doctor was a widower? Oh, what a shame – such a lovely-looking woman, and quite young.
With a start, she realized that he was speaking her name and smiling, and she hurriedly composed herself for the interview. Would she enjoy it as the others had done? She thought she would.
Nine
And enjoy it she did, even though aware that Dr Lorne’s easy informality concealed his skill in finding out just what he needed from a candidate such as herself. Certainly, he’d soon discovered what sort of person she was, what sort of nurse, and why she’d chosen to go into the profession.
To care for others, she’d told him, to make lives better, even, because she knew what sort of lives many of the hospital patients endured in the poorer tenements of the city.
‘And the hydro?’ Dr Lorne asked casually. ‘What made you decide to apply for the post here? Something to do with your brother?’
‘My brother? Oh, no. Except that he told me about the vacancy and I knew he’d like me to apply. He’s been so happy, working here.’
‘But you didn’t apply because of Boyd, or your parents, who live in Edgemuir?’
‘No. I made it clear it had to be something I wanted to do myself.’
Dr Lorne smiled and rolled his pen between his fingers.
‘Which brings us to the main question: what wa
s it that drew you to working with hydropathy? If, indeed, you did feel drawn? Maybe there was some other reason that brought you here?’
Isla was silent for a moment.
‘I applied,’ she began at last, ‘because I’d got interested in the water cure and I wanted to know how it worked. I mean, folk talk of a cure, so there must be something that causes the cure, and I thought, if I got an interview, I’d maybe see the treatments and sort of understand.’
‘And then, of course, you didn’t actually see any patients being treated. I’m sure Doctor Woodville explained why that wasn’t possible.’
‘Oh, yes, and I should have known it, anyhow. We did hear about the treatments, though, and read about them in the brochure, so I knew what was available.’
‘But not why they work.’ Dr Lorne shook his head. ‘And you have heard, I expect, that the whole thing is quackery and doesn’t consist of any real medical value at all?’
‘I suppose some do say that,’ she answered reluctantly.
‘Yet it’s not true, Miss Scott.’
Dr Lorne laid down his pen, his gaze on her long and serious.
‘There’s much evidence of the remedial use of water from way back in history, and many people will tell you how much better they’ve felt after the therapy. But we needn’t talk just about feelings. In terms of hard fact, it’s known that water therapy, for instance, has a stimulating effect on the blood – on blood flow, the circulation, the regulation of blood pressure. If it did no good in any other way, hydropathy would be valuable for that.’
‘I see.’ Isla considered what he had said, thinking that this was something she hadn’t heard about before and was glad to hear now. Hard fact, instead of feelings. Yes, it was good to have heard it. ‘Thank you for telling me that, Doctor Lorne.’