by Anne Douglas
‘Yes, indeed.’ Dr Revie was pleasant and relaxed. ‘I absolutely accept that here you know best – it was just an idea. Hope I haven’t come up with too many.’
‘Of course not!’ Dr Lorne was opening his door for Dr Revie to depart. ‘As I told you, I’m grateful for all your suggestions, and I’ve no hesitation in telling you that I think we are going to make an excellent team.’
‘That’s good to know, Doctor Lorne, very good indeed. Thank you for your interest.’
Looking suitably serious, Dr Revie took his leave as Dr Lorne called in Miss Elrick to take some letters.
‘All right?’ he asked her, when she had taken her seat, her pencil and notebook in her hand. ‘You’re looking a little pale. In fact, you’ve seemed off colour just lately. Perhaps you’d like to take some holiday?’
‘No, no, thank you, Doctor Lorne,’ she answered quickly, sitting up straight in her chair. ‘I’m quite well.’
He studied her for a moment. ‘That’s good, then, but feel free, whenever you need, to take some time off. And if you should ever want, you know, to have a talk about anything that might be worrying you, don’t hesitate to come to me.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Doctor Lorne, but I’m really quite all right.’
‘Fine.’
As she sat with her pencil poised over her notebook, his smile, as kind as usual, made her smile back, and for a moment her spirits lifted. Only for that moment, though.
Twenty-Five
For some time, Boyd had been worried at hearing nothing from Damon Duthie, which might have been a reason for feeling relieved, except that Boyd knew it could only be the calm before the storm. Trina hadn’t yet told him of her bizarre idea of seeing Boyd as well as him: that could be the only explanation for his not flying round to confront Boyd. Every day, Boyd had been gearing himself up to meeting him, and every day he had not appeared, leaving Boyd’s nerves jangling.
It was never easy for him and Trina to meet, or even to catch her in the kitchen or dining room without Damon or others around, which meant he hadn’t been able to ask her about the situation. When they finally managed another trip to the cinema and he spoke to her on the way home, she admitted at once that she hadn’t got round to it yet.
‘Trina, you know you must – we have to get this thing straight!’ Boyd cried. ‘What’s stopping you? You can’t be afraid of him – not you?’
‘Of course I’m not afraid! It’s just that – well, he’ll make such a fuss, that’s all.’ She smiled at Boyd, widening her eyes at him, making his heart turn over. ‘He can be difficult.’
Boyd gave a groan. ‘We have to tell him the truth, Trina. Promise me you’ll tell him tomorrow. Then I can be prepared to deal with him.’
‘Oh, my, that sounds drastic!’
‘Well, we’ll have to have it out; you know we will.’
‘All right, I promise. But let’s not talk about it any more. Don’t we have better things to do?’
‘Oh, God, yes,’ he whispered as they made their way down their dark alley and fell into each other’s arms.
Even though Trina had promised to speak to Damon, Boyd still didn’t believe she would do it. Which was why he was totally unprepared the following day, when he was alone in the gym at lunchtime, to see the door being thrown open and Damon standing before him.
Putting aside the ham sandwich he had been eating, Boyd slowly rose to his feet.
‘Hello, Damon,’ he said, with a good attempt at calmness.
‘Don’t speak to me!’ Damon cried, breathing hard. ‘Don’t say a word!’
He slammed the door shut behind him and, having turned the key in the lock, advanced towards Boyd, his dark eyes smouldering, his hands at his sides jerking, while Boyd threw aside his sandwich and fixed Damon with a long cold stare.
‘It’s lunchtime – shouldn’t you be on duty in the dining room?’
‘To hell with that!’ Damon tossed back his thick black hair. ‘And I told you not to speak to me. I’m the one who’s talking and you know why. You know what you’ve done. As though you could get away with it! You must be crazy – out of your mind. As though I’d let any man take my girl away from me!’
‘I haven’t taken your girl away from you, Damon, because she’s not your girl and never was. She sees you, she goes out with you, but she wants to go out with me, too. That makes her nobody’s girl in my book – until she makes up her mind which of us she wants.’
‘You think I’m going to share Trina with you? I tell you, you’re mad, Boyd Scott, because she doesn’t want you; she wants me – she’s made that clear. Don’t think you can come muscling in, confusing her, playing the “big noise” – it’s got to stop and I’ll tell you how.’
‘Oh, yes, how exactly?’ Boyd asked, smiling. ‘Damon, so long as Trina wants to go out with me, you’ll have to grin and bear it. Will you now get out of my way so that I can unlock the door and finish my sandwich?’
A dark red colour had risen to Damon’s brow and drops of sweat were trickling down his face as he bunched his fists and stepped so close to Boyd that they might have been preparing to dance. Instead, it was clear to Boyd that they were preparing to fight – at least, Damon was, while Boyd, the taller and stronger of the two, knew he’d have to stop him.
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ he snapped. ‘This is childish. You can’t solve anything with your fists, and if you try, I’ll prove it.’
For answer, Damon punched him on the chin with such force that Boyd was taken quite off guard and stepped back, his hand to his mouth, his look astonished, then furious.
‘If that’s what you want, it’s what you’ll get!’ he shouted, and returned the blow, at which Damon only laughed. But then the two of them were suddenly grappling, moving round the floor, breathing hard, each well matched, it seemed, and getting nowhere, until Boyd suddenly straightened up and seized Damon in an iron grip.
‘Let’s finish this once and for all,’ he muttered and, releasing Damon, gave him one last blow which sent him back to the floor. Where he lay without moving.
As Boyd stood staring down at him, his hand returning to his mouth, there came a rattling of the door and voices, one Trina’s, the other Isla’s, crying his name.
‘Boyd, Boyd, are you there? Boyd, will you open the door? What’s going on? Is Damon with you? Let us in, let us in!’
Walking stiffly to the door, Boyd unlocked it and stood aside as the girls burst in, staring only for a second or two at him before running to Damon on the floor.
‘Oh, God, Boyd, what have you done?’ Trina cried, stooping over Damon, whose eyes were closed. ‘Oh, he looks awful!’
‘He attacked me!’ Boyd cried angrily. ‘Came in here like a madman, hit me in the face. What was I supposed to do? Just stand there?’
‘Trina, let me look at Damon,’ Isla ordered. ‘He shouldn’t be lying there like that.’
Kneeling beside him, she bent to listen to his heart, then folded back an eyelid to examine his eye before springing to her feet, her face anxious as she looked at her brother.
‘Boyd, I’m going to get Doctor Revie. I don’t know what you did to Damon, but I think he’s got concussion. Stay with him till I get back.’
‘Of course we’ll stay,’ whispered Trina, moving to stand near Boyd. ‘But I can’t believe what’s been happening. I mean, I never really expected it, you two fighting’ – she lowered her voice – ‘over me.’
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ Isla said coldly, and ran.
Twenty-Six
‘It’s very good of you to help us, Doctor Revie,’ Isla told him as the two of them moved fast towards the gym. ‘I feel so bad – something like this happening and involving my brother.’
‘These things happen,’ the doctor said cheerfully, his eyes on her. ‘And, of course, I want to help – it’s my job. I was only doing my paperwork, anyway. You say the chap who’s injured is one of the waiters? Not that fiery, black-haired fellow – looks like an Italian?�
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‘Damon Duthie, yes. He’s not Italian, he’s Scottish.’
‘But fiery. And he had a row with your brother? Over a woman, I bet. And I think I know which one.’
They had reached the door of the gym, but instead of opening it, Isla hesitated, her grey eyes on the doctor filled with apprehension. ‘I’d … I’d be very grateful if … if you wouldn’t—’
‘Tell Doctor Lorne? Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. Come on, let’s see the patient.’
The little tableau was much as Isla had left it, with Boyd and Trina staring down at Damon still on the floor, the only difference being that now his large dark eyes were open. What they were seeing was unclear, though, for they seemed unfocussed.
‘Ah, he’s come round!’ Dr Revie cried, kneeling down beside Damon and opening his bag. ‘That’s good, that’s encouraging.’
‘I don’t think he knows where he is,’ Trina whispered, moving closer to Boyd, whose face was stricken as he looked down at Damon.
‘I didn’t mean to hit him so hard,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But he met the floor with an almighty crack and just went out like a light.’
‘Shaken the brain – that’s what happens with a bad blow to the head.’ Dr Revie took out his torch. ‘I’ll just examine his eyes.’
After some moments studying Damon’s eyes, Grant looked up. ‘I think he’s been lucky – his pupils are fine and he’s now beginning to focus properly. That’s encouraging again.’
Turning back to Damon, Dr Revie held up his hand. ‘Damon, it’s Doctor Revie. Are you able to hear me?’
‘I … hear you,’ Damon answered hoarsely after a long pause.
‘If I hold up my hand, how many fingers can you see?’
‘Er – three.’
‘Excellent! Three it is! You’re doing well.’ The doctor got to his feet. ‘Which means, I think, that we’re going to get you up now. Just see if you can stand and if we can check your balance. Boyd, will you give me a hand?’
Even before her brother had taken a step forward, Isla, knowing how little Damon would want Boyd to help him, said swiftly, ‘I will.’
‘Are you sure?’ Dr Revie asked dubiously, but when she only raised her eyebrows, he laughed and briefly touched her arm.
‘Sorry, Nurse Scott, I know how often you have to help patients – let’s get Damon up then.’
Still looking very pale and somewhat lost, he finally stood between them, their arms supporting him, until Dr Revie told him to try a step or two if he felt able. Just to check his balance.
‘It’s my head,’ Damon muttered. ‘Feels like it’ll float away.’
‘Very understandable – you’ll certainly have a headache for a time. But can you move?’
‘Think so.’
After a long moment of hesitation, Damon did succeed in taking a few steps without mishap, after which Dr Revie called for a chair and, settling his patient into it, again told him he’d done well.
‘I don’t think you need worry too much, Damon. You have a slight concussion which will respond to painkillers, but I would like you to rest in bed for the next twenty-four hours. You really should be monitored for that length of time.’ Dr Revie glanced at Trina. ‘Could you inform Mr Paul that Damon will not be available for work just yet? I’m going to organize a bed for him in our special monitoring section.’
‘Tell Mr Paul?’ Trina repeated. ‘He’ll be furious.’
‘Too bad, it can’t be helped. Say Damon had an accident – slipped in the gym.’
‘He’ll never believe it. He’s already cross because Damon didn’t turn up to serve the lunches.’
‘I don’t want to go to bed,’ Damon suddenly declared with surprising strength. ‘I’d rather go back to work.’
‘Just do as the doctor says,’ Isla said sharply. ‘He knows what’s best for you. Boyd, have you still got that old wheelchair in the back cupboard? I expect you’d like me to push Damon back to the treatment rooms, Doctor?’
‘There speaks the practical one! Yes, that would be best. We’ll take him over now, and leave you, Boyd, to put some cold water on your lip – it’s swelling badly.’
‘Oh, God,’ groaned Boyd, only brightening when Trina said she’d help him, even though the look that Damon then directed towards him boded nothing but ill for the future.
Twenty-Seven
As soon as Trina began delicately to bathe his swollen lip and chin, Boyd forgot Damon anyway and kept his eyes fixed on her face so close to his, praying that no patients would arrive until she’d finished. By the gymnasium clock, it was just after two, which seemed unbelievable, for surely it was hours after that? The fact remained that the patients’ lunch was over, and one or two who didn’t want to rest might soon be arriving at his now open door, which meant he’d have to keep Trina out of sight and pretend everything was normal. Normal? Oh, God, with his job on the line?
‘I didn’t mean to hit Damon so hard,’ he told Trina earnestly as she finished dabbing at his lip. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
‘Oh, sure. It’s just like Damon to cause trouble, eh? I’ve had enough of him.’
Enough of him? Enough of Damon? Boyd’s heart leaped as he took in what she’d said.
‘Trina, what are you saying?’
She gave him an enchanting smile. ‘I’m saying it’s too difficult, what I’ve been trying to do. Seeing two fellows – I’ve decided it’s not for me.’
‘So, if you have to choose one …’
Her eyes were sparkling. ‘I choose the winner.’
‘Trina!’ He tried to take her in his arms, but she wriggled away, shaking her head at him.
‘Boyd, I’ve got to go. I have to tell Mr Paul what’s happened to Damon, and I have to be all apologetic for skipping off after lunch and not helping to clear up.’
Her face suddenly serious, she touched Boyd’s swollen face.
‘I was worried, you know. Damon was in such a state after I’d told him about going out with you as well as him; I was scared he’d do something terrible. That’s why I got your sister to come with me to the gym to see what was happening. And you know what we found.’
‘He’s going to be all right; the doctor said so.’
‘Yes, but you’d sorted him out, hadn’t you?’
She laughed a little and suddenly kissed Boyd on the lips. ‘Let’s go out together, soon as we can, eh? Let’s forget all this nonsense. Come to the kitchen tomorrow and we’ll fix it up.’
‘But you’re going to have to tell Damon what you’ve decided, Trina, as soon as he’s better. And then there’ll be more trouble.’
‘I don’t think so; I think he’s learned his lesson. Oh, there’s your door – you have a customer, Boyd.’ She blew him a kiss. ‘I’ll away. See you tomorrow.’
Tomorrow,’ he answered dazedly, as she slipped out and tall, thin Mr Weston came in, smiling, until he noticed Boyd’s swollen lip.
‘Oh, my, laddie, what’s happened to you? Got the toothache?’
‘Just a bit of a knock, Mr Weston. Nothing to worry about.’
And now that Trina had made her amazing decision, that was true for Boyd. Job or no job, Damon or no Damon, she had chosen him. He felt he need never worry again.
With Damon unwillingly settled into bed and already beginning to drift into sleep, Dr Revie suggested that he and Isla had deserved a small break and a cup of tea, and led the way to his office.
‘I can get some tea for us, but I have a patient to see very soon,’ said Isla, refusing the chair he offered. ‘First, though, I want to thank you again, Doctor Revie, for all your help. You were wonderful.’
‘Please, spare my blushes, I didn’t do a damn thing that was special,’ he said quietly, his blue gaze on her so direct that she felt she must look away. ‘But do you really have a patient? I was looking forward to a little time with you.’
‘Time with me?’
‘Why not? Can’t doctors talk to nurses?’
‘I’ll get the tea,�
� she said quickly, feeling she was suddenly venturing into unknown waters. Before she could leave, though, he lightly took her wrist and held it.
‘Never mind the tea. If time’s so limited, Isla, just let me get my plea in before you have to go.’
At the look on her face when he used her first name, he smiled.
‘Oh, yes, I know the rule here about first names at work, but just at this moment we are not at work, so you are Isla, and I am Grant. And my plea to you, Isla, is this: will you let me take you out to some other non-work situation? A restaurant in Edinburgh, for instance?’
For a moment, she could only stare. What was he saying? He wanted to take her out? To some non-work situation, as he put it? A restaurant in Edinburgh? Her mind was reeling.
Even though she’d noticed his eyes often on her and had had a sort of feeling he might be interested in her, she’d still remained aloof and felt no interest in him. Or so she’d thought, letting the thought stay on the surface. But beneath the surface, what would she have found if she’d allowed herself to look?
After his coming to the rescue over what had happened in Boyd’s gym, it was true she’d seen a different side to him – one of less charm, more genuine feeling. And now he’d actually asked her out, what was she to do? Look beneath the surface at last? Discover if there was something there?
‘Isla?’
As she met those amazing eyes of his and saw in them such serious intent, this time she did not look away.
‘Thank you, Doctor Revie—’
‘Grant, please.’
‘Grant. I’d like to come, if it’s possible.’
‘Possible? Why shouldn’t it be possible?’
‘Well – you know – finding a time that suits.’
‘It’s simple: I can fit in with you. When’s your evening off next week?’
‘Wednesday.’
‘Right, Wednesday it is. Shall we say we’ll meet at six thirty? Away from the gate, if you’re worried about people seeing us?’ He grinned. ‘And I expect you will be.’