by Anne Douglas
Like everyone else, Isla was studying the new man, already admitting to herself that he was something of surprise. He wasn’t at all as she’d expected him to be. Someone older, she’d thought, someone faceless; someone who might want to start changing things the minute he stepped through the door.
Whatever her picture of him had been, it was nothing like the reality of the actual man smiling round at the faces watching him, for Dr Revie was young, not old, and handsome in a most definite way, his features regular, his eyes a remarkable blue. Cornflower, would you say? Very fine, anyway, and a great contributor to the charm and self-assurance he was demonstrating at that moment, as Dr Lorne presented him with all the pride of a parent showing off a favoured child.
Heavens, what would the patients think of their new doctor, then? Particularly the lady patients? One look from those blue eyes and they’d follow any instructions he cared to give, with the staff reacting in a similar way, judging from the looks on their faces when Isla glanced quickly around at them.
As for her, she wasn’t sure what she thought of handsome Dr Revie. A bit too sure of himself, wasn’t he? A bit too used to the reaction of people to his looks? See him now, turning his gaze on Sister Francis, who was saying a few words to welcome him to Lorne’s and telling him how much they were all looking forward to working with him. His smile, his manner, was so exactly right, as was his response to all the kind words in a little speech of his own.
‘Thank you so much for your kind words, Sister Francis,’ he began – see how he’d remembered her name – ‘I can certainly say that I am myself looking forward to working with everyone here in this splendid hydro, and extend my thanks to you, Doctor Lorne, for giving me the opportunity. May I also thank you, Doctor Woodville, in advance, for showing me something of the work I’ll be doing, and give my thanks again for the warm welcome I’ve received. I hope I may do it justice.’
‘No doubt of that, Doctor Revie,’ Dr Lorne declared and, shaking the new doctor’s hand, he told him he’d leave him in Dr Woodville’s care and see him in his office later, after which everyone dispersed to their duties.
‘Would you ever have believed the new doctor’d be like him?’ Sheana whispered, as she and others hurried down the corridor to their appointments. ‘I mean, such a handsome man, eh?’
‘He wasn’t what we’d expected,’ Ellie agreed. ‘Though I’m not sure now what I did expect.’
‘Snap,’ said Isla. ‘I never thought the new chap’d be quite such a charmer. Maybe too much of one. I prefer Doctor Woodville.’
‘Not quite so much talking, girls!’ came Staff Nurse Miller’s hissing whisper at their shoulders. ‘I know you think you’ve got plenty to talk about, but keep it for your own time. The patients have a right to be seen as the centre of interest, eh?’
‘Sorry, Staff,’ they murmured, colouring and exchanging glances.
‘See you at supper,’ Isla said, vowing to herself not to be caught out like that again. What a gaggle of silly girls they were to be bowled over by a pair of blue eyes! But as she attended to haughty Mrs Winter-Smithson and smiled sympathetically as she listened to her patient’s usual string of complaints, she was already deciding she’d take no bets on the whole hydro’s falling under Dr Revie’s spell in no time at all.
Twenty-Two
Not a great deal was seen of Dr Woodville and Dr Revie in the next couple of days, as it was known they were closeted together, doing what was known as a ‘hand-over’. When they did surface, it was for Dr Woodville’s farewell. This was still, in spite of the excitement caused by Dr Revie’s arrival, a matter of particular gloom for the staff of Lorne’s, and for patients, too – one being, of course, Mark Kinnaird.
On the afternoon of the farewell tea party, which was to be attended by all staff and patients, Isla had looked in on Mark to stock up on his medication, as Dr Woodville had ordered.
‘You see,’ she said with a smile, ‘his last thought is of you, Mr Kinnaird. He wants to be sure that you have what you need before he goes, though, of course, Doctor Revie will be checking on you soon and making his own decisions.’
‘I suppose so,’ Mark said coldly. At the look in his eyes, Isla was dismayed to see the old blankness that had been absent for some time.
‘Oh, don’t look like that!’ she cried quickly. ‘Doctor Revie’s a very good doctor; you’ll be in excellent hands.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Don’t you like him?’
‘Don’t know him yet, do I?’
‘You’ve met him, though.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Mark shrugged. ‘Looks like an actor.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘You like him, then?’
Although she had her reservations about the new doctor, somehow Isla didn’t want to put them into words for Mark; knew, in fact, that she shouldn’t be discussing a doctor with a patient at all.
‘It’s not a question of liking,’ she said carefully. ‘I go by Doctor Lorne, and Doctor Lorne thinks highly of him.’
‘Oh, well, then, I should be satisfied, shouldn’t I?’
‘Mr Kinnaird, you are coming to Doctor Woodville’s farewell tea party, aren’t you? It’s almost time.’
‘Of course I’m coming.’ Mark left his chair without breaking into a cough and gave a sudden smile. ‘Nurse Scott, I’m sorry – please forgive me for being such a miserable old so-and-so. It’s just that I’m feeling so much better, and with Doctor Woodville gone, I can’t help worrying I won’t do as well.’
‘You will, you will!’ she cried, her smile radiant. ‘It’s the treatment, Mr Kinnaird; you’re one of our successes! Don’t worry about not staying well – you are well.’
‘Almost, maybe. But I promise not to do any more complaining. Let’s go down to say goodbye to Bob, then.’
The day being so fine and warm, the French windows of the large lounge had been opened to the terrace, and it had been suggested that following tea and speeches, everyone might like to stroll or sit out there.
‘While we clear everything up, I suppose,’ Damon muttered to his colleagues, his expression mutinous. ‘After we’ve served the damned tea in the first place. Why are we the only ones working, eh?’
‘Oh, stop moaning!’ cried Junie, the waitress Trina had accused of moaning herself, but who didn’t like Damon and enjoyed finding fault with him. ‘We’re the obvious folk to serve and clear away, eh? It’s our job.’
‘Aye, just like it’s the job o’ thae doctors to treat the patients, but they’re all taking time off today, I notice. It’s like I always say: if you’re a doctor, you can get away with anything.’
‘Come on, Damon, this is just a one-off for that nice Doctor Woodville,’ Trina said lightly. ‘Put up with it and try to be pleasant. I want to see the new chap – Doctor Revie. I was out when he came in to meet us, but they say he’s very good-looking.’
‘Who says?’ Damon asked sharply. ‘Didn’t look anything special to me.’
‘If you folk can stop your chatting, maybe you can serve some of these cups of tea I’m pouring out!’ cried Mr Paul, already scarlet in the face from his work behind the long white-clothed table that had been set up to carry his scones, tiny sandwiches and the two large iced cakes that were in pride of place.
‘And give everybody a plate!’ he added. ‘Starting with Doctor Lorne and serving the patients before the rest of the staff. Then take round the sandwiches.’
‘Yes, Mr Paul!’ they cried, scattering to follow his orders. Trina was the first away with her tray of tea and made directly for the doctors who were standing together.
‘Why, thanks so much,’ Dr Revie said as he took his tea, his blue eyes meeting Trina’s dark gaze. ‘I don’t believe I’ve seen you before, have I?’
‘You’d have remembered,’ Dr Woodville put in cheerfully. ‘This is Trina Morris, Grant. A new recruit to our dining staff.’
‘Enjoying being at the hydro?’ Dr Lorne asked.
‘Oh, yes, Doctor Lorne,�
� she answered brightly, but as she turned aside to make way for Daisy arriving with plates and sandwiches, she shrugged a little. The new doctor was certainly as handsome as everyone said, but she knew – for she always knew – that he was not going to be one of her followers. How she knew, she couldn’t say, but she was never wrong, so it was back to Damon for her. Or maybe Boyd Scott, the other handsome fellow at the hydro, who was definitely one willing to follow her anywhere. She’d better not speak to him now, though – not while Damon was around.
Twenty-Three
With the cutting and handing round of Mr Paul’s splendid cakes and compliments to make him beam, tea finally came to an end and Dr Lorne could make his farewell speech to Bob Woodville. Short, but well phrased, it strongly conveyed his genuine appreciation of the younger doctor’s qualities – his sympathy, good humour and patience, quite apart from his medical expertise, of course. While understanding his reasons for leaving, Dr Lorne ended by saying how much Dr Woodville would be missed and wishing him well for the future on behalf of everyone at the hydro.
‘Come back and see us, Bob, won’t you?’ he asked, using a first name at last. ‘Don’t forget us, anyway.’
‘No fear of that!’
Bob Woodville, who had been sitting with his eyes modestly cast down during Dr Lorne’s speech, now leaped to his feet and gave one of his broad grins around the watching faces.
‘I can’t tell you how much you’ll all be in my thoughts,’ he told them. ‘Working here has meant a great deal to me and I really appreciate all I’ve learned, not just on the medical side but the human side, too, from staff and patients – my whole experience, you might say. I can’t deny I’m going to miss my life here, or that there’ll be a lot to learn in running my father’s practice, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to give my patients the sort of service they should have – especially as I shall have my fiancée’s help as soon as she’s qualified.’
Fiancée? The little world of the hydro seemed to rock. Had Dr Woodville said it? Had he said fiancée?
At the intake of breath, followed by the staff’s stunned silence, Bob’s grin faded and he paused, seeming uncertain how to continue.
It was left to Dr Lorne to say after a long moment, ‘Why, Doctor Woodville – Bob – we had no idea you were engaged! We must give you our congratulations.’
‘It’s only just happened, Doctor Lorne,’ Bob said hastily. ‘I can’t actually believe it myself – I’m so happy. Eleanor – Miss Reynolds – is a medical student, taking finals at Edinburgh next year. She’s the daughter of a doctor my family knows well, so we’ve known each other for some time, and when I managed to pop the question, she said yes – so, there we are.’ He gave a sigh of obvious contentment. ‘We’re planning to marry after she qualifies, and then she’ll come and work at the practice.’
‘Well, we couldn’t be more pleased for you,’ Dr Lorne said warmly, reaching across to shake Bob’s hand. ‘And I know I’ll be speaking for all when I say we wish you every happiness in the future.’
Speaking for all? Except Miss Elrick?
As cries of agreement met the doctor’s words, Isla, who happened to be standing with Mark next to Miss Elrick, hardly dared to look at the secretary’s face.
When she did, it was, as she had expected, stricken. At first, very pale – paper-white, in fact – but gradually turning scarlet over the cheekbones, a colour that looked as though it would never fade, while the eyes above seemed to have no colour whatever.
Oh, no, thought Isla. Oh, God, poor Miss Elrick – poor Joan – what would happen now? How would she get through the rest of the day – congratulating him, wishing him every happiness – when all she’d want to do would be to run away and hide? If only she could be comforted. But even as she stretched out her hand to touch Miss Elrick’s, Isla realized that it would be the last thing the secretary wanted – someone knowing how she felt, feeling sorry for her – and she let her hand fall. There was nothing she could do.
‘Oh, Miss Elrick!’ she was startled to hear Dr Lorne’s voice call. ‘May we have the box, please?’
The box? What was he talking about? Isla didn’t know, but Miss Elrick apparently did, for, moving very slowly, she bent down to pick up a wrapped box at her feet that Isla hadn’t noticed. Her flush subsiding, thank heaven, she turned towards Dr Lorne, who immediately came forward to take it himself, resting it on a small table in front of Bob Woodville, while Miss Elrick took a step backwards.
‘I have scissors in my bag,’ she whispered, without looking at Dr Woodville. ‘If you would like them to cut the paper.’
‘This is for me?’
‘Oh, yes, indeed,’ Dr Lorne told him, smiling. ‘From everyone at the hydro, as a small token of our appreciation.’
‘Oh, no, oh, Lord, you shouldn’t have – I don’t know what to say. Miss Elrick, may I take you up on your offer of scissors?’
When she had impassively handed him the scissors, and he had removed the paper and opened the elegant box revealed, he gave a little gasp before lifting out, for all to see, a most handsome carriage clock that called forth loud murmurs of approval and much clapping of hands.
‘Doctor Lorne – everyone – I really don’t know what to say,’ Bob said, looking around at his listeners as silence fell. ‘It’s too kind, honestly, and I’m so touched. I can’t thank you enough. And Eleanor will want to thank you, too – she’ll love it!’
‘So we made the right choice,’ Dr Lorne said cheerfully. ‘Well, it was mainly Miss Elrick’s, though it had my vote, too.’
‘It will look wonderful in our drawing room and be a reminder always of Lorne’s Hydro,’ Bob said earnestly. ‘My thanks to you, Doctor Lorne, and to Miss Elrick for her choice, and to everyone for a most generous gift.’
‘So glad you like it,’ Miss Elrick said, lifting her head at last and fixing the young doctor with a long, long gaze, before turning aside and looking at no one. Certainly not at Isla, who was thinking, How brave she is! She’s rallying, when she has to. But how will it be for her when she is alone?
It was as though, for Isla, the summer’s day had suddenly grown cold and she thought, as she’d thought before, that if love could bring so much heartache, she wanted no part in it.
The ceremony at an end, people began to drift away, and as Mark Kinnaird went to speak to Bob, and Isla was thinking of finding Boyd, a voice said her name and she turned to find Dr Revie. He had been such a quiet watcher at the presentation that she had scarcely noticed him, but now she found herself receiving the full battery of those blue eyes in a way she had not experienced before.
‘That went well, didn’t it?’ he asked. ‘Made me realize just what sort of chap I have to follow.’ He laughed. ‘Not leaving too many broken hearts behind, is he?’
‘Broken hearts?’ she cried sharply. ‘Of course not! Doctor Woodville is engaged to be married.’
‘Oh, I thought that wasn’t known until today – sorry.’
‘None of us ever thought of him in that way,’ Isla said hastily, taking care not to look round to see where Miss Elrick might be. ‘I can promise you that.’
‘I’m sorry.’ His look was contrite. ‘Actually, it was just a joke – a poor one, I agree. Am I forgiven?’
‘Nothing to forgive. But will you excuse me, Doctor Revie? I want to say goodbye to Doctor Woodville and then find my brother.’
‘Ah, yes, the good-looking young man who looks after the gym? Tell him, I’m going to be keeping fit there as soon as I get settled in. And perhaps I could tell you that I’m looking forward to working with you – and all the staff?’
‘We’re all looking forward to working together,’ she answered, finding a smile, somehow aware that his fine eyes were watching her as she walked away.
Twenty-Four
As everyone had predicted, it didn’t take long after Bob Woodville’s departure for Grant Revie to take his place as general favourite at the hydro, to send hearts fluttering among the female patients and someti
mes a sigh or two of regret for the passing of time and lost youth. Nurses, too, were more excited than they cared to say about the new man in the treatment rooms, but one thing no one denied was that he was an excellent doctor. Even Isla, who had been holding herself apart from all the fuss, along with the subdued Miss Elrick, was willing to admit that.
Not only was he good at his work, he was also quick to suggest improvements. For instance, the hydro saunas gave patients only one bench where they could sit to absorb the steam, whereas a second bench at a higher level would mean differences in temperatures could be obtained, which would be beneficial. And music, he also pointed out, could be of great help as therapy, with gramophone records being played when patients were resting after wraps or massage treatment.
Dr Lorne, having listened carefully to all Dr Revie’s suggestions, expressed himself very pleased with his interest, agreeing that they should look into the use of music as therapy – he’d been thinking of that himself – and, of course, to put extra benches in the saunas was an excellent idea.
‘Well done, Doctor Revie! I congratulate you on your eye for improvements – it’s exactly what we need.’
‘Thank you, Doctor Lorne. There’s just one more thing I’d like to mention, if that’s all right?’
‘Certainly, certainly.’
‘Well, quite a lot of hydros these days do offer evening entertainment for their clients. You know the sort of thing – song and piano recitals, competitions, games. I wonder if we could do something in that direction?’
Dr Lorne hesitated. ‘They already have bridge,’ he replied at last. ‘I don’t know if our sort of client would welcome competitions. As for recitals – who is to organize things of that sort?’
‘A professional host, Doctor Lorne. Often a lady, who is experienced in organization and perhaps a performer herself – in fact, where I last worked we had such a lady who was a tremendous asset.’
Dr Lorne at once shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, but I really don’t think that we need anyone to provide that sort of thing for us. Other hydros might be keen, but most of our people just like a quiet evening after dinner, with a little bridge, or conversation – you do understand?’