by Anne Douglas
‘I’d better try somewhere else, then,’ Ben said disconsolately. ‘But thanks very much.’
‘Have you tried her room?’ Isla asked, hurrying after him into the corridor as he went on his way.
‘Went there first. No sign.’
‘But I was thinking – could you check to see if her things are there?’
‘Things?’
‘Her clothes. In the wardrobe.’
Ben seemed mystified. ‘Why shouldn’t they be there?’
‘I expect they are, but just supposing …’ Isla hesitated. ‘Supposing she’s left? Gone away?
‘Left the hydro? She’d never do that.’ Ben was looking as nervous as though he’d attempted to do it himself. ‘Not without telling Mr Paul!’
‘Look, Ben, I’ve got to go, but Daisy shares a room with Trina. If you don’t want to check it yourself, ask her to see if Trina’s taken her clothes. Remember, people don’t always give notice before they go.’
At least, Damon didn’t, Isla thought. On her way to her patient, she was filled with apprehension that Trina might have done as he had done. To be with him. She had no reason to think that, didn’t know if Trina had even been seeing him, but something was eating away at Boyd’s peace of mind and almost certainly it was something to do with Trina.
How long before Isla could know definitely what Daisy had found? If the worst had happened and Isla’s suspicions were correct, the news would be all over the hydro as soon as Daisy had made the discovery. In which case, Isla must try somehow to be with Boyd, for he would be feeling … But at that point, her mind closed. She couldn’t even bring herself to think what he would be feeling.
‘Isla, have you heard the news?’ Sheana asked, running to catch her as she left the lift after escorting a rheumatic patient back to her room. ‘You know Trina didn’t turn up to do the lunches? Well, she’s gone. Done a bunk. Daisy says there’s not a thing of hers left in their room!’
Isla stood, still as a stone, as the news washed over her. So it was true: Trina had gone. Isla must go to Boyd, but she seemed unable to make herself move, even though Sheana’s sympathetic eyes were on her.
‘You’re thinking of Boyd?’ Sheana asked quietly.
‘I don’t know how he’ll take it.’
‘He might have already known she was going. She might have told him.’
Isla shook her head. ‘He’d have told me.’
‘I heard Damon Duthie was back in town. Trina surely wouldn’t have gone with him, would she? After all the trouble he caused?’
‘I must go to Boyd!’ Isla cried, suddenly jerking into life, but Sheana was touching her arm.
‘You needn’t,’ she whispered. ‘He’s here.’
And as Sheana tactfully left her, Isla saw her brother walking towards her. Or was it his ghost?
Forty-Nine
He could have been a ghost, he was so pale, so lacking in life-colour. Even his grey eyes, usually like Isla’s, were so shadowed, so empty of expression, they might have been a spectre’s.
‘You’ve heard?’ he asked. ‘You’ve heard Trina’s left me? Left the hydro?’
‘I’ve heard,’ Isla stammered. ‘Oh, Boyd—’
‘Didn’t have the guts to tell me to my face – wrote me a note and asked Larry to give it to me after three o’clock. That would give them time to be well away.’
‘Them?’
‘Her and him. Don’t ask me to say his name.’
Suddenly dragging his eyes from Isla, Boyd took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and, with shaking hands, lit one and drew on it as though he couldn’t do without it. He’d never smoked since his army days, and Isla, staring at him with wondering eyes, couldn’t imagine where he’d even found the cigarettes.
‘Don’t look like that. I know it’s forbidden,’ he said shortly. ‘But a patient left these behind and I say thank God he did. I couldn’t have read that letter without them.’
‘What – what did she say?’
‘Look, I can’t talk here – some damn fool will come past and want to stop. Where can we go?’
Isla was frantically looking at her watch – she had another patient to see in half an hour – but she must listen to Boyd, must do what she could to help him, though what that could be, she’d no idea.
‘Outside,’ he was saying roughly. ‘We can go out of the side door – here, take my jacket, I don’t need it. Shan’t be long, anyway.’
Like a couple of fugitives, they made for the side door, luckily seeing no one until they were safely in the garden where, in the December chill, they were bound to be alone.
‘What did the note say?’ Isla pressed, shivering even with Boyd’s heavy jacket around her shoulders, but he only shook his head.
‘You know what it would say. She’d found him again and he was right for her; they were two of a kind – selfish, not willing to give a damn. She admitted it. I was much too good for her, things would never work out – God, I could have written it myself as soon as I heard he was back in Edgemuir! I knew she would see him again, and she did, but she never said a word, just left me waiting for the blow to fall.’
Even in the cold, Boyd was sweating and paused to wipe his brow. ‘Isla, I was on the rack, but it’s true – she didn’t give a damn, didn’t care what she put me through. And now … now she’s gone and I despise her. But I can’t do without her – I don’t know what I’m going to do!’
‘Oh, Boyd!’ Isla whispered. She would have thrown her arms around him to comfort him, but he wasn’t ready for comfort and simply stood still, breathing fast and again wiping his brow.
‘The thing is, Isla, I’ve got to get away. I can’t stay – where she was, where I had all those stupid dreams. Of her loving me, marrying me, settling down – what the hell was I thinking of?’
‘Boyd, what do you mean, that you can’t stay here?’ Isla grasped his hands. ‘You can’t leave. It’s what I nearly did, but Mark made me see it was better to stay, and you must stay. This awful pain, it’ll pass – I know – so where would be the point in running away?’
‘Plenty,’ he said definitely. ‘It’s different for me. I’m not running away. I don’t care what folk think about me. All I want is to leave the place where she was and begin a new life. Cut out the memories, start from scratch. It’s the only thing for me, Isla, and the sooner I face up to it, the better.’
‘You wouldn’t go before Christmas, Boyd? Think of Ma and Dad; they’re going to be so upset anyway, but at least you could let them have that, eh?’
He waited for some moments before replying, no sign of his thoughts changing the blankness of his face. Finally, he shrugged.
‘OK, I’ll stay. Just till after Christmas. I needn’t be like her, not giving notice. Doctor Lorne doesn’t deserve that of me.’ He gave a great shuddering sigh. ‘I’ll tell him it’s a personal matter, me leaving. He might even give me a reference.’
‘It won’t be the same here without you,’ Isla said in a low voice, her eyes filling with tears. ‘But you will keep in touch?’
‘I will.’ Boyd took her arm. ‘Come on, you’re getting frozen; let’s go inside.’
Back in the warmth of the hydro, they looked at each other.
‘I have a patient,’ Isla whispered.
‘And I should open up the gym again, but I can’t. Not today. I’ve put up a notice’ – Boyd laughed briefly – ‘owing to illness, et cetera … But now I’m going to walk.’
‘Where?’
‘Anywhere.’
‘Take care, then.’
‘Oh, I’ll take care! I’m not giving anybody the satisfaction of anything happening to me.’
‘Boyd!’
‘Look, don’t worry. And, Isla …’
‘What?
‘Thanks.’
‘I didn’t do anything.’
‘For being with me,’ he said quietly.
And they went their separate ways.
Fifty
That Christmas Day, spent b
y Isla at home, was the strangest she’d ever known. It was as though they were all, except for Boyd, playing a part they’d learned – going through the motions of having a good time, opening presents, enjoying Ma’s cooking, laughing over Dad’s jokes as he opened the Christmas port. But none of it was real. Only Boyd was real in his silence, his failure to join in. Only the darkness that surrounded him was genuine.
He did agree to play rummy after they’d finished the Christmas meal and cleared away, but when, as usual, he’d won and the cards were gathered up, he relapsed into another silence which drove Nan to speak.
‘Oh, Boyd, don’t take it so hard, eh? She’s not worth it.’
‘Makes no difference.’
‘I don’t see why you have to leave your job, though. You’re happy at the hydro – why give it up?’
‘I was happy. Now I need to get away.’
‘And do what?’ asked Will, for the first time feeling able to question Boyd.
‘I’ll find something.’
‘In the week before Hogmanay? Never!’
‘I’ll have to find somewhere to live first. I can stay at the YMCA to start with, till I find a bedsitter. Then I’ll look for work.’
‘Why not stay here with us?’ cried Nan, ‘Go into Edinburgh by train – a lot do that, eh? You’ve got your own bed, you’ll have proper meals—’
‘Ma, I need a new life. An independent life. Doctor Lorne’s given me a good reference, I’ll find something to suit, and I’ll come back to see you from time to time – no need to worry about that. But I’m not staying in Edgemuir.’
With a sigh of defeat, Nan slowly rose and said she’d put the kettle on.
‘Isla’s to get back to the hydro, she’ll want her tea. And Christmas cake.’
‘Christmas cake? Ma, I don’t think I can manage it.’
‘Sure you can. And you can take a bit back with you and all.’
‘I’ll walk you back,’ said Boyd. ‘Could do with some air.’
‘It’ll seem funny, you not going back to the gym after the holiday,’ Will remarked. ‘What’s going to happen to it?’
‘Oh, there’s no worry there. Larry’s taking it on. He’s got some experience, should do well.’
‘And what about the saunas?’ asked Isla. ‘Larry can’t do both.’
‘They’re going to advertise for somebody. So, Ma, what about that tea? Want me to give you a hand?’
She shook her head, sudden tears making her hurry away, and silence fell once more.
At least Boyd had been talking again, thought Isla, and some of the pall over him appeared to have lifted just a little. But, as it had been for her, so it would be for him; the only thing that would really help was time and its progression. One day, as she’d told him, the pain would go. You just had to wait until it did. Easy to say, eh?
After they’d had tea and managed a piece of Ma’s delectable cake, Isla put on her coat and hat and hugged her parents in farewell, willing them both not to be too upset about Boyd, though there she had little hope of success.
‘We’ll see you again soon?’ asked Nan, as Isla picked up her bag of presents and Boyd stood impassively by.
‘Aye, we’ve got to see one o’ you,’ put in Will.
‘You’ll see me all right, but Boyd’ll come back when he can. He’s said so – isn’t that right, Boyd?’
‘It’s what I said.’ He took Isla’s bag. ‘Best be going.’ He looked at his parents. ‘I won’t be long.’
Out in the cold air, he took deep breaths, slowing his stride to Isla’s as they set out for the short walk to the hydro.
‘Ever feel back there you’re under a great soft blanket?’ he asked after a few moments.
‘With Ma and Dad? Not really. It’s just that they care about us.’
‘Best not to live at home, though, once you’ve grown up.’
Isla gave him a quick glance. ‘You’re looking forward to going now?’
‘Suppose I am. As long as I find the right job.’
‘At least you’ve got a good reference. Nice that Doctor Lorne was so understanding.’
‘Yes, I appreciate that. His daughter wished me well and all.’
‘What, Miss Lorne?’ Isla was interested. ‘I knew she was back for Christmas, but I didn’t know she’d seen you. Did she come to the gym?’
‘No, she just happened to be with her dad when he gave me the reference. Had some friend staying until Christmas Eve, I believe.’
‘Fancy her being so polite! Wishing you well!’
‘Oh, she’s all right.’ Boyd’s voice had trailed away, as though he could make no more chat, and it wasn’t until they reached the hydro that he spoke again.
‘Isla, we’ll keep in touch, eh? When I get an address, I’ll send it.’
‘I’m feeling like Ma,’ she said shakily, ‘wanting to cry.’
‘Och, I’m only going to Edinburgh!’
She shook her head. ‘No, Boyd, much further than that. Things will never be quite the same again.’
They hugged, exchanged long solemn looks, then Isla rang the bell of the main door. After Tam had admitted her, she looked back once at Boyd, who waved. Then the door was shut and locked, and he turned abruptly away.
Fifty-One
Although she still greatly missed Boyd, Isla found herself accepting, in the dreary weeks of January, that she would no longer see him around and that Larry Telford had his job at the gym and seemed to be doing well. The arrival of Bart Angus, the ginger-haired young man who now looked after the saunas, had caused hardly a ripple, he being so quiet, and with the return of Magda Lorne to Switzerland, and Dr Morgan keeping everything on an even keel, life at the hydro seemed to have become boringly quiet.
Not that Isla complained. These days, a quiet life suited her, for having had her fill of passionate exchanges and anguish, she was relishing being free again of any burden of unrequited love. Sometimes she thought of Mark Kinnaird and realized she still missed him, too, and was glad he’d sent her a card at Christmas. Her own card to him would have been late, but still she’d sent one, had kept in touch. She rather wished she might have heard from him again, but so far that hadn’t happened. No doubt, back in his own busy life, he’d forgotten her. That was the way things went.
As for Boyd, she longed for the time when he would be like her – free of his burden of love – but there was no hope of that just yet, for whenever she saw him, on his hurried visits home, it was plain he was not yet himself. He seemed to be settling into his new life, though, having found not only a bedsitter but also a job, working as assistant to a sports master in an Edinburgh school. Not doing any teaching, but helping to look after equipment, standing in for supervision duties, generally making himself useful.
‘Not the same as being in charge, like I was at the hydro,’ he told Isla one February evening when they were both at home and alone in the parlour. ‘But it’s given me the idea of going into teaching myself. In fact, the chap I work for said I should look into that. Maybe apply for training.’
‘Why, Boyd, that would be wonderful!’ Isla’s eyes were shining. ‘And you do seem – you know …’
‘Better?’ He shook his head. ‘Not yet.’
‘Too soon, I know. But I’m sure you’re managing better than you thought you would?’
‘I’ll tell you something that’s helped,’ he said after a pause. ‘Though it’s not easy to talk about.’
‘Tell me anyway.’
‘Well, you know I don’t like to talk about the war? Never have, never want to. But there was one night, a couple of weeks ago, when I felt – oh, God, I don’t know – I felt so bad, I was thinking – sounds crazy – I couldn’t go on.’
Reluctantly, Boyd’s eyes met Isla’s and, seeing the fear in their depths, he looked away.
‘Just couldn’t go on. Can you imagine I’d feel like that, Isla?’
‘No, no, Boyd, I can’t imagine that. I won’t.’
‘No, well, suddenly – it was
the oddest thing: all their faces came back to me. All the faces of the fellows I’d known, at the front. And I seemed to see what happened to them all over again, and when I’d seen it Isla, seen them, I was so ashamed. I thought of what they’d gone through, what they’d have given for life, and I thought, here I was, acting up like a spoiled wee bairn, when I’d got what they’d lost.’ Boyd put his hand to his eyes and for some time was silent. Then he took his hand away.
‘And I tell you, Isla, I decided I couldn’t face wondering what they’d have thought of me, and I made up my mind I’d never let myself get so low again over Trina Morris, never.’
‘That’s good, Boyd, that’s right,’ Isla said earnestly. ‘But those pals of yours, they wouldn’t blame you for feeling bad over Trina. They’d have understood.’
‘Maybe.’ Boyd smiled grimly. ‘But you know what sparked it off – that terrible feeling I had? She told me they were married.’
‘Trina and Damon married? No, I don’t believe it. When? When did she tell you?’
‘Sent me another note. To let me see there was no hope, I suppose.’ Boyd shrugged. ‘Apparently, it was a registry office wedding, all very quick, and now they’ve gone to London. Got work in some posh hotel. End of story.’
‘Oh, I hope so!’ Isla cried. ‘I do hope so!’
‘Now, what are you two doing, sitting in here in the cold?’ asked Nan, bouncing in, very flushed in the face from the heat of her stove, and waving a spoon. ‘Come away and get warm in the kitchen. Your dad’s home and the cottage pie’s all ready, so look sharp now!’
‘Grand to see you two home together again,’ Will remarked, when they were tackling the cottage pie at the kitchen table. ‘And looking so well, eh?’
‘Glad you think so,’ muttered Boyd, staring at his plate.
‘Well, you do look better, Boyd,’ Nan said firmly. ‘I knew you would, soon as you got shot of that girl.’
‘You never even met her.’
‘Didn’t want to see me, did she? But I saw that terrible Doctor Revie and I expect she was the same. Wrong for you, like he was wrong for Isla. Just remember, there’s far better fish in the sea than ever came out of it, eh?’