by Anne Douglas
‘Boyd, I’m sorry, too. I didn’t want to quarrel. I know you were thinking of me, but it’s my life, you see, and I have to make my own decisions. You do see that?’
‘I do. As you say, it’s your life; you should do what you want to do. And for all I know, I’m completely wrong about – och, let’s not say who. All I want is for us to be friends again.’
‘Me, too.’ They exchanged smiles and went together to serve themselves with something to eat.
‘What’ll it be to celebrate?’ asked Isla. ‘Toad in the hole?’
‘You bet! My favourite. This is my lucky day.’
‘Mine, too,’ she agreed, thinking of how Mark would be pleased. She must tell him soon of her reconciliation with Boyd, and tell Ma about Grant – when he asked her out again. As she knew he would.
Thirty-Three
And Grant did ask her out again – this time to the Queen’s Theatre in Edinburgh to see Chu Chin Chow, a London musical comedy on tour.
‘Sort of thing I like,’ he told Isla. ‘Something I can really relax with – I’ve enough to worry about without being sunk in gloom by some dismal play.’
‘Enough to worry about? You never give the impression of being worried.’
‘Any doctor is worried. It’s the responsibility, you understand. I know Doctor Lorne has the ultimate responsibility, of course, and the cases aren’t usually life-threatening at the hydro. But I have to get the treatments right, I have to see everyone gets what they should have, especially as there’s money involved. People want what they pay for.’
‘I do understand, Grant. So let’s see Chu Chin Chow and forget all our worries!’
‘Let’s!’ he agreed, his eyes dancing, and she knew he would have kissed her, except that they were in his office, where she’d made a pretence of taking a supply order he had to sign, and couldn’t risk someone else walking in. That was a worry if you like, thought Isla, who minded very much that she and Grant could usually only meet at work when surrounded by other people, or carried the risk, if they tried to be alone, that someone would find them.
Even arranging the theatre visit was not easy, as matching their free evenings meant one of them having to change to suit the other, and for Grant to do that involved getting Dr Lorne to cover for him.
‘Next time, it’s your turn to arrange a swap,’ Grant told Isla. ‘We don’t want to alert Doctor Lorne’s suspicions, do we?’
‘I’m beginning to think I’d just like to bring it all out into the open,’ she murmured, but Grant shook his head.
‘No, it’ll be best if we don’t, believe me.’
‘If you say so.’
Isla gave a sigh, but made no mention of her own particular worry, which was that she must, now that she was going out again with Grant, tell her mother. And how her mother would respond, she could make a good guess.
She was right, too, for as soon as she mentioned Grant’s name, her mother’s face lit up!’
‘Going out with the doctor!’ she cried. ‘That new one you said was so handsome? Isla, that’s grand! He’s a catch, eh? A doctor, and good-looking, too?’
‘Ma, I’m not getting engaged. We’re only going to the theatre.’
‘But he’s asked you, Isla, he’s chosen you. Now don’t tell me that doesn’t mean something. Will, don’t you agree?’
As it was a Sunday afternoon when Isla had been able to look in on her parents, her father was reading the Sunday paper which he now put down as he raised his eyes to his wife’s.
‘Now, don’t ask me, Nan. Young folks today – they’ve different ideas from you and me.’
‘Some things stay the same,’ Nan declared. ‘And when a man takes a girl out, it’s because he’s interested. I always knew Isla would catch someone’s eye, but, of course, I never thought about the new doctor.’
She laughed a little as she gave Isla more tea. ‘And it’s about time one or other of my children got themselves married, eh? There’s Boyd got some young lady he won’t even bring to see me, though he keeps promising. Seemingly, she’s a waitress at the hydro – very good-looking. Well, you’ll know more about her than I do, Isla.’
‘Yes, Trina is certainly very pretty, but I don’t think Boyd’s got as far as thinking about marriage,’ Isla answered, her fingers tightly crossed against her lie, for she was sure Boyd would marry Trina tomorrow if he could. ‘You’ll just have to give him time, Ma. As for me, I’m only going to the theatre, so don’t start ringing any wedding bells for me, eh?’
She finished her tea and said she must fly. Lovely to see them … quick, give her a hug, and she’d be in touch.
‘You’ll tell me all about this theatre visit?’ asked Nan, at the door, as Isla prepared to leave.
‘Yes, but don’t mention it to anyone will you, Ma? We’re keeping it under our hats, at present.’
‘Oh?’ Nan’s expression was dubious. ‘Well, of course I won’t say a word, if that’s what you want. Your dad won’t either. But what’s this you’re going to see, then?’
‘It’s really a musical comedy – Chu Chin Chow.’
‘Read about that,’ said Will. ‘Very successful in London, but silly, if you ask me. Based on Ali Baba.’
‘Fancy a doctor wanting to see something like that!’ Nan cried. ‘You’d think he’d want something more serious.’
‘Wants to relax,’ said Isla, finally getting away.
She hurried back to the hydro, rather wishing she was able to relax herself, longing with all her heart for the theatre evening to arrive. Being surrounded by other people in the audience might seem the same as their work situation, but it was really quite different. They would be able to feel alone – for no one in the audience would know who they were.
Thirty-Four
The theatre evening was a great success, for if Chu Chin Chow was a bit silly in its plot, the songs were catchy and the chorus was splendid – better even than the principals. Truth was, though, Isla wouldn’t have cared what she was watching, as long as she was next to Grant, as long as they were holding hands and exchanging glances, as long as there was the drive home to look forward to, with the usual detour.
That dalliance in the comfort of the car in the lane Grant had found was for Isla quite rapturous. She’d never realized, until she experienced it, just how much pleasure could come from being kissed and kissing in return, from being held and caressed, and realizing Grant’s power over her, as well as her power over him.
As they sank back in their seats, exchanging smiles in the dusk, their passionate kissing over, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to make love. Could it be that the ordinary people you saw all around were secretly feeling as she did now, only more so? She couldn’t believe it, yet that’s how it must be. Even her parents must have – well, she wouldn’t go into that. People could never imagine their parents making love, but she was beginning to imagine it for herself. With Grant, of course. If they were married.
‘Oh, God, Isla,’ he was murmuring now, softly touching her cheek, ‘if only – if only—’
‘Only what?’ she whispered.
‘No point in thinking about it. Let’s get back.’
At their stopping point outside the hydro, he turned to look at her.
‘When can we meet again?’ he asked quietly.
‘We’ll have to work it out. If only it wasn’t so difficult!’
‘Difficult or not, we’ll have to manage it.’ He laughed. ‘Can’t go too long without seeing you away from work!’
Her eyes shone as they snatched a last kiss.
‘Don’t worry; if we both want to meet, it will happen.’
‘I want to meet, all right.’
‘And so do I.’
And meet they did, whenever they could, spending the long evenings at the end of July and early August driving somewhere, maybe just to the country for a meal at a small hotel – no pubs, of course – or to a city cinema where they sat as close as possible to each other, but kept their hea
ds down when the lights went up, in case anyone they knew was around.
So far they’d been lucky in that respect. No one at Lorne’s seemed to have any suspicions at all that there was anything between them – perhaps because to most people it would have seemed so unlikely. Sheana and Ellie had obviously kept their promise to say nothing, and of the few others who knew – Isla’s parents, Mark Kinnaird and Boyd – none would breathe a word.
Sometimes Isla would ask Boyd how things were between him and Trina, but really she didn’t feel she needed to, when one look at his face showed how happy he was.
‘I’m up in the clouds,’ he told her once. ‘Never thought it could work out like this for me, but that’s fate, eh? Can never tell what’s ahead.’
‘How about taking Trina to see the folks, then?’ Isla asked him. ‘You know Ma’s dying to meet her.’
‘Ma expects a wedding,’ Boyd muttered. ‘I don’t want her going on to Trina, maybe putting her off, or something. I mean, obviously, we haven’t got to that stage.’
‘Putting her off? Surely, if you’re the one for Trina, she’ll want to be married to you, won’t she?’
The one for Trina … He wished he knew if that were true.
‘You might say that of you and Doctor Revie,’ he said after a moment. ‘Don’t you want to get married?’
‘We haven’t known each other very long,’ Isla said quickly. ‘Haven’t got that far yet.’
‘Not heard that Ma and Dad got engaged three weeks after they’d met?’
‘Grant and I aren’t Ma and Dad. I suppose neither are you and Trina.’
‘Very true,’ said Boyd, with a sharp little stab about his heart that he immediately denied to himself.
It was all very well for Isla to tell Boyd to take Trina to meet their parents, but she was taken by surprise when Nan demanded that she should do the same with Grant.
‘Ma, it’s not very easy,’ she protested. ‘I mean, he wouldn’t expect it – we’re not an engaged couple.’
‘He’s never said anything?’
‘We’ve only been going out since June.’
‘Been seeing him a lot, though. And your dad and me, we didn’t waste any time. We’d only—’
‘I know, I know, you’d only known each other three weeks. Well, it’s not the same with Grant and me.’
‘You could still bring him round for a cup o’ tea. Tell him you’d like him to look in on Sunday if he can, just for an hour or so. I won’t put on a big tea – just maybe do my Victoria sandwich cake, eh?’
‘I’ll see what he says, Ma. He’s very busy.’
‘Yes, but he’ll understand. He’s been seeing our daughter a lot and we just want to say hello. Put it that way.’
It was with some trepidation that Isla did ask Grant to visit her parents on the following Sunday, when he was free for the afternoon and she could manage an hour or two away from the hydro. Why she felt so nervous, asking him, was her fear that he might see the invitation as an attempt to make him seem her fiancé – which he wasn’t, whatever her mother was hoping.
But it was all right. He didn’t seem to mind being asked, and said of course he would be delighted to come – Dr Lorne would be on call, anyway, so no problems there.
‘Poor old Doctor Lorne,’ he added casually. ‘Seems like he’s disappointed in his daughter.’
‘In Magda?’ Isla asked with interest. ‘Why, she’s in Switzerland – what’s she done?’
‘Postponed coming home straight away for the holidays, he told me – gone to stay instead with a school friend in Paris.’
‘Oh, dear, and he does so miss her! When is she coming home, then?’
‘Later on in August, if it’s of any interest.’ Grant shrugged. ‘Sounds a spoiled little madam, if you ask me.’
‘Nobody at the hydro will argue with that!’ Isla smiled. ‘So, you’ll come, then, on Sunday? I’ll give you the address and directions later. Shall we say half past three?’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he said gallantly, which should have relieved her mind but instead brought back worries. If he was so much the charmer with her mother, mightn’t she become even more convinced that he was the perfect one for Isla? It was only what Isla thought herself, but she didn’t dare to hope that he would soon propose and didn’t want to spoil what she had with expectations. In her heart, she was sure he loved her and that they would one day be married, but men had to make their own decisions and mustn’t think they were being pressurized – especially not by match-making mothers.
‘Till Sunday,’ she whispered, as she prepared to leave his office and he quickly pressed her hand.
‘Till Sunday, dear Isla.’
Thirty-Five
As Isla had known would happen, number forty-six had been swept, washed and polished even more than usual in honour of Sunday’s visitor. He was special, of course, being Isla’s young man and a doctor, but Nan would have done the same for any visitor, or even to please herself. As for spring cleaning, Will always said he got his overtime in then, home not being the most comfortable place, with no curtains up, everything you touched being wet from washing, and not much ready in the way of tea. At least things were better on that Sunday afternoon when Dr Revie was expected.
Isla felt she’d been swept and polished, too, for she’d had to rush home to wash and change out of her uniform into a pretty blouse and skirt before Grant’s arrival, adding some lipstick and brushing her red hair to a shine.
‘Very nice,’ her mother said when she presented herself in the parlour, ‘that blouse suits you.’
‘You’re looking very smart yourself, Ma, though really Grant won’t expect all this preparation, you know. He’s only having a cup of tea.’
Smoothing the skirt of her Sunday dress, Nan frowned and said, whatever the situation, you must do your best and look your best.
‘Quite right,’ said Will, handsome in his Scottish woollen cardigan and tweed trousers. ‘Now, isn’t that the door, Isla? Your young man’s on time, eh?’
Flying to let him in, Isla’s hands were trembling as she drew him into the hallway, for it had come to her afresh how important this meeting could be. A great deal might depend on it, though, of course, she would have to pretend that wasn’t so.
‘You’re looking very smart,’ she told him, though in fact he was looking the same as usual, in a dark checked sports coat, white shirt and grey flannels, for the truth was he always looked smart, always looked handsome, and Isla knew her parents would be impressed.
‘Do my best,’ he said cheerfully, and from behind his back produced a bunch of pink and white roses. ‘For your mother, Isla.’
‘Grant, she’ll be thrilled! Oh, you must give them to her yourself. Please, come this way.’
In the parlour, where tea was laid on a small table, Will was standing very stiff and straight beside his chair, as though he were on inspection, and Nan was moving forward, hand outstretched, until she saw Grant’s bouquet, when she gave a little cry.
‘Oh, my, will you look at those roses!’
‘For you, Mrs Scott,’ Grant said, slightly bowing his head, as Isla stepped forward to make the introductions. Nan, taking the flowers, though clearly surprised, remained in command.
‘For me, Doctor Revie? Well, I’m sure I don’t know what to say, but how kind, eh? How very kind. Thank you, then, thank you very much. I’ll just away to put them in water. Will, look after the doctor.’
‘Take a seat, Doctor,’ Will responded, placing a chair, while Isla said she’d just be putting the kettle on.
‘That’s all right,’ Grant said easily. ‘Your father can be telling me about the woollen mill. I’m afraid I haven’t any idea how such wonderful clothes are made from the fleece of sheep!’
‘Aren’t they lovely, Ma?’ Isla asked, as her mother placed the roses in a vase of water. ‘I never knew Grant was going to bring you flowers.’
‘I’m sure he needn’t have gone to such trouble,’ Nan said, gazing at h
er arrangement. ‘I wonder why he did?’
‘Why, to give you pleasure, Ma!’
‘Or he wanted to make me think he was a nice generous chap and right to be going out with you.’
‘I’m sure he never thought of any such thing!’ Isla retorted. ‘Ma, don’t you like him?’
‘What a question! I’ve only just met him. Better put that kettle on, Isla. I’ve got the scones all buttered.’
‘Scones? I thought we were just having cake.’
‘Your dad likes a scone on a Sunday. I’m sure Doctor Revie will like one, too.’
‘His name’s Grant,’ Isla said shortly.
‘We’re not ready for first names yet,’ said Nan.
The tea went well. Grant said he hadn’t enjoyed anything so much for some time.
‘Home cooking, you can’t beat it, and I don’t get much of it.’
‘A shame,’ Will remarked, taking a second scone. ‘Now our Boyd thinks the same as you, Doctor Revie – he has to have a lot o’ meals at the hydro, but he always says his ma’s food is best.’
‘A pity he’s not here today,’ sighed Nan, slicing her sandwich cake, as Isla kept her head down, knowing Boyd, who’d made an excuse not to attend the tea, was probably out with Trina, as patients’ lunches would be over. Maybe her mother guessed that, too, but was not admitting it.
‘I expect he’s busy,’ Nan was continuing. You’ll know our son, Doctor Revie? He runs the gymnasium at Lorne’s.’
‘Oh, of course I know him, Mrs Scott. A splendid young man – he’s very highly thought of.’
‘Was in the war, you know,’ said Will. ‘Doesn’t like to talk about it.’
‘None of us do, Mr Scott.’
‘You were in the war yourself?’
‘Royal Highland Fusiliers. I’d done three years at medical school when I joined up, but I wanted to see some action, didn’t want to be an army medic.’ Grant shrugged. ‘In the end, I was invalided out with a head injury in 1916, and went back to my studies – not exactly a hero.’