by Anne Douglas
‘No, I feel fine.’ Isla managed a smile, hiding her disappointment over Mark’s present state of health after all their efforts to help him at the hydro. Well, they had helped him, and he was better than he’d been; she must take comfort from that. ‘I feel as though I’ve done something for the miners, though, to be honest, it’s not going to help a lot – what I did.’
‘They’ll be helped by any kind of support, the way things stand. Ah, here comes our girl – next stop, Gloucester Place.’
Fifty-Five
Although still worried for Mark, Isla had to admit to herself that she was also feeling a new excitement being with him, almost as though she was seeing him in a totally different light. And also, she was, of course, curious to see where he lived. This turned out to be a large stone-built terraced house in a quiet New Town square, exactly the sort of place she’d imagined as his home. With three floors and a basement, it was surely too big for just Mark and his father? Perhaps they only had part of it?
‘You have the whole house?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I’m afraid we do. Seems selfish to have so much space, I know, but Dad came here when he was married, and he doesn’t want to convert it, and I … well, I’ve stayed with him. Really would like my own place, but haven’t suggested that yet.’
‘I can understand, Mark. You don’t want to leave him on his own.’
‘Yes, I suppose that’s it. There’s no garage and only a strip of garden at the back, but we each have our own studies and don’t get too much in each other’s way.’
She couldn’t help thinking this new Mark she’d found was a rather lucky man, materially, at least.
‘And is this your car?’ she asked, seeing the small blue car at the kerbside.’
‘Yes, it’s a Hillman. Not a bad little motor. Good on petrol which is handy, seeing as it’s in pretty short supply at the moment.’
‘I feel bad about your using it for me, Mark.’
‘Come on, that’s what it’s for, to help someone out, especially at a time like this,’ he answered swiftly as he unlocked the doors and they took their seats. ‘So, let’s away. I’d like to have taken you in to have a word with Dad, but he’s at a meeting tonight. I know he’d have wanted to meet you again.’
‘Please remember me to him, Mark.’
‘Sure, I will.’
Driving back to Edgemuir in the still bright sunshine of the May evening, Isla found her worries over Mark’s health gradually receding and just took pleasure in being with him in a way that seemed particularly special. There’d always been a rapport between them, and when he’d gone, she’d certainly missed him keenly, but somehow she’d just never thought of him, even when she’d got over Grant, in a truly romantic way.
After all, he’d never shown he’d thought of her that way himself. He’d given her the lovely Chanel, but patients did like to give presents, and after he’d left, he’d made no effort to get in touch apart from one Christmas card. True, he seemed delighted to be with her now, and it might be that he did care for her, and she just didn’t know. Just as she didn’t know about her own feelings for him – except that there was that new excitement she felt in being with him.
When they reached Edgemuir, she instructed him in finding her home, and when they drew up at the door and looked at each other, it seemed quite natural to ask him to come in for a moment to meet her parents.
‘Why, I’d like to very much, Isla, but I don’t want to disturb them.’
‘Heavens, they won’t be doing anything special, and they’d like to meet you, Mark. Especially when you’ve brought me back – I know they’ll have been worrying.’
‘If you’re sure, then.’
Isla, of course, knew that she was on dangerous ground when she brought Mark in and introduced him to her parents, for though her father was his usual friendly self as he heartily thanked Mark for bringing Isla back, her mother was instantly making all the wrong decisions. An ex-patient from the hydro? The one who was a lawyer? The one who was already a friend of Isla’s?
Oh, my, this is exciting, eh? What about some tea? Shortbread? A piece of sandwich cake? Nan was all of a flutter, and Isla was inwardly groaning, but what else could she have done? She’d had to ask Mark in, hadn’t she? But when he’d gone, she’d just have to be very firm in correcting her mother’s idea – very firm indeed.
In fact, he didn’t stay long, thanked Mrs Scott for her offer, but said he must be back for his father’s return when their housekeeper would have prepared supper. Not that he’d need much – he gave Isla a sideways look – after all he’d eaten at Logie’s.
‘Oh, you’ve been to Logie’s?’ Nan cried. ‘Was that after the march? You must tell us all about it.’
‘Now, Nan, we must let the laddie get home,’ Will remonstrated, shaking Mark’s hand again. ‘But I’ll just thank you again, Mr Kinnaird, for giving Isla a lift back. I was that worried, wondering how she was going to get home. Should never have let her go, if I’d had my wits about me.’
‘It was no trouble, Mr Scott – my pleasure, in fact, to bring her home, and also to meet you and Mrs Scott.’
With final smiles and thanks all round, Mark left for his car, accompanied by Isla, who said she’d just see him out. Ignoring her mother’s smiles, she wanted a moment or two to thank Mark herself for all his kindness to her that day.
‘Look, I meant what I said to your father: it was my pleasure to bring you back and to be with you earlier. In fact—’
He stopped, keeping his eyes on her face.
‘In fact, I was wondering … if we might – you know – meet again?’
Meet again? All she had been expecting was a fond goodnight! Now – well – her eyes returning his gaze were alight with true pleasure.
‘Mark, I’d like that very much. If we can manage it.’
‘Manage it? Why shouldn’t we manage it?’
‘I was thinking of transport – I mean, between here and Edinburgh.’
‘Of course. I’d come over to you by car – there’ll be no problem. I’ll get petrol somehow or other.’ Mark was smiling, as though relieved. ‘All we need to arrange is when you’re free. I know you’re limited by the hours you have to work, but you do get evenings off sometime, don’t you?’
‘Oh, yes, of course. My next one’s today week. A Friday. Would that be any good?’
‘Perfect.’ Mark’s smile had broadened. ‘Shall we say I’ll come over about six to the hydro?’
Come over about six to the hydro and wait for her, probably at the gate? Even if she asked him to wait away down the road, it was all too much like the arrangements made by Grant Revie and she didn’t want anything to remind her of those.
‘Come into the grounds,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll be looking out for you.’
There would be no secrecy this time. They had nothing to hide, she and Mark, for Mark was no longer her patient and they were both free to do as they liked.
‘And I’ll be there. Till Friday, then.’
‘Friday,’ she repeated, and after a hesitant silence they drew closer together and, yes, exchanged a goodnight kiss, sweet in itself, but full of promise.
She watched, as he gave a last wave before driving away, leaving her to go into the house to face her mother’s interest. Better damp down the speculation, she decided firmly, for in spite of all her pleasure at the idea of seeing Mark again, Isla had really no idea how things would go. Better just to let things happen as they would. That would be best.
Fifty-Six
‘What excitement,’ was Boyd’s comment when he came to see his parents for Sunday dinner, having cycled over from Edinburgh. ‘Isla’s going out next week with Mr Kinnaird? Wonderful.’
‘You’re not being sarcastic?’ asked his mother, serving Yorkshire puddings as his father carved the joint. ‘You should be pleased for her.’
‘I’m not being sarcastic and I am pleased for her. Mark Kinnaird’s a nice chap.’
‘A perfect gentleman!�
� cried Nan. ‘And as different from that Doctor Revie as chalk is from cheese. Did you no’ think so, Will?’
‘Aye, I liked him.’ Will passed the plates of beef he’d carved. ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t think there’d be anything in it.’
‘Whatever do you mean? He’s taken with Isla, that’s for sure, and they’ve always been friendly – she said so.’
‘Maybe, but he’s a lawyer, eh? Might make a difference.’
‘I don’t agree. Isla’s a nurse; she’s educated and very bright, though I say it as shouldn’t. Girls like her marry professional people all the time.’
‘Oh, Ma, they’ve not even been out yet, and you’re talking about marriage,’ Boyd protested. ‘And what might make a difference, I’d say, is not Mr Kinnaird’s job, but his health.’
‘Why do you say that?’ asked Nan sharply. ‘He got better, didn’t he?’
‘Who’s to say he’ll stay better?’ Boyd poured the last of the gravy over his plate of beef. ‘Just don’t go getting your hopes up, Ma. Doesn’t do, does it?’
She was silent, watching him eat, before finally turning to her own meal. He had seemed so much more himself lately; she hoped his thoughts had not gone back to ‘that girl’, as she called Trina. How well she’d got her hooks into him, eh? And all for nothing. What he needed was to meet someone else. Someone who’d care for him as he deserved. Maybe there would be a nice girl at this school where he was working? Something made her think, if there was, it would be a long time before she got to know about it.
‘How’s things at the school, then?’ Will asked Boyd, as though Nan’s thought had somehow conveyed itself into his head. ‘Any news on that course you were wanting to do?’
‘Oh, yes, I was going to tell you!’ Boyd brightened as he spoke. ‘I’ve been accepted – start in September! Couldn’t be more pleased. I won’t end up teaching arithmetic or anything like that, but I’ll be able to be a sports master and that’s what I want.’
‘Why, what a funny lad you are, Boyd, not to tell us all this before!’ cried Nan, but he only gave a crooked smile.
‘When you were so full of news about Isla? I couldn’t get a word in edgeways.’
‘Now, that’s just unfair, Boyd! As though I don’t care about your news just as much!’
‘Now, Nan, don’t take on,’ Will said mildly. ‘Boyd doesn’t think that, and you know it. Don’t spoil a nice dinner, eh?’
‘Och, I’ll clear the plates,’ she said, tossing her head. ‘Who wants apple pie?’
‘As though you need to ask!’ cried Boyd, rising and giving his mother a kiss. ‘Bring it on, eh?’
After the meal was finished and cleared away, they had some tea and studied the Sunday paper with news of the strike, which did not look hopeful.
‘Says here the TUC met that Samuel fellow who did a report some time back, and worked out some proposals for ending the strike,’ Will remarked. ‘But the miners turned ’em down.’
‘Which means they’re no further forward,’ said Boyd. ‘Everybody says it’ll be a long dispute.’
‘I’m wondering now if the TUC might just give in, get the other workers back, and if the miners want to stay out, leave ’em to it.’
‘Oh, no!’ sighed Nan. ‘That’ll be too hard. They’ll be no better off!’
‘It’s what I thought would happen all along,’ said Will, folding the paper. ‘The owners of the mines hold all the cards. When the strike pay runs out, the miners’ll have to go back and it’ll be on the owners’ terms – mark my word.’
After that, there seemed nothing more to say, and Boyd said he’d better be getting ready for his ride back. Luckily, the weather was fine and he was extremely fit, though Nan still worried that he’d be doing too much, cycling all that way. At least, he could take some sandwiches with him and a slice of cake, which, to please her, he said he would.
‘Can’t promise when I’ll come again,’ he told his parents when they stood at the door, ready to wave him off. ‘Depends on when we get the trains back. I don’t mind doing the ride this once, but I don’t fancy making a regular thing of it.’
‘That’s all right, son, we understand,’ said Will, and with final hugs, Boyd left them, riding easily away through the spring sunshine.
‘Grand to see him, anyway,’ his father added, as he and Nan went into the house. ‘I think he’s a good bit better, eh?’
‘He is, and this new idea of doing teacher training will make all the difference.’ Nan, beginning to tidy her kitchen, was looking quite cheerful. ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get our children settled, Will? It’s all I want.’
‘Shouldn’t expect it just yet,’ said Will. ‘There’s a lot o’ water to flow under the bridge yet.’
Boyd had not ridden far – was, in fact, only passing the empty railway station – when he was astonished to see a young woman waving him down. And at her side was Dr Lorne. Dr Lorne? Well, of course. The young woman smiling at Boyd was, he now realized, Dr Lorne’s daughter, who was supposed to be in Switzerland. So, what was she doing back in Edgemuir?
Both Magda and her father were dressed casually, she in a white summer dress and emerald cardigan, the doctor in a light jacket and twill trousers, and both were studying him in the sympathetic way he’d come to accept from those who knew his story.
‘How nice to see you, Boyd,’ Dr Lorne said jovially, unusually using his first name, perhaps because Boyd was no longer a member of the hydro’s staff. ‘Have you been visiting your parents?’
‘Just for the day. It’s nice to see you, too, sir, and Miss Lorne.’
Turning to meet her green gaze, Boyd saw that she was looking, as usual, very striking, her dark hair, now rather longer, framing the perfect shape of her face, her charming mouth still smiling.
‘Like the bike,’ she said lightly. ‘Don’t say you’re cycling all the way to Edinburgh?’
‘Well, there are no trains, as you know.’
‘I certainly do know.’ Slipping her arm into Dr Lorne’s, Magda was suddenly rather serious. ‘I came over from Switzerland to see my father – he’s not been well, poor Daddy – and now I can’t get back again. Not that I mind – I’m finishing soon anyway, and then I’m hoping to go to art school – if I can get in.’
‘Of course you’ll get in,’ her father said fondly. ‘You draw very well, I’ve always said so.’
Although he had seemed at first to be his usual self, Boyd could see now, as the doctor smiled down at Magda, that his face was thinner and there were lines at his eyes and by his mouth that hadn’t been noticeable before.
‘I’m very sorry to hear you’ve been ill, sir,’ Boyd said, a little awkwardly. ‘I hope you’re feeling better?’
‘Oh, I’m fine, thank you, quite all right.’ The doctor laughed a little. ‘There was no need at all for Magda to come over – just Miss Elrick being a bit over-anxious writing to her.’
‘Daddy, that’s not fair!’ Magda cried. ‘You were ill and needed me – I’m glad she wrote to me!’
‘It was just a bit of trouble with the old ticker. I had to take it easy for a while, but I still covered for Doctor Morgan; we didn’t need a locum. Now Magda‘s ready to go back, except that she can’t at the moment. But tell us how you are doing, Boyd – are you enjoying being in Edinburgh?’
‘I am, sir, thank you, it’s working out well, and I’ll be starting a teacher training course in September – I’m aiming to be a sports master.’
‘Why, that’s excellent, Boyd, really excellent! Let us know how it goes – keep in touch.’
‘Yes, keep in touch,’ chimed Magda.
There was a short pause before Boyd said he’d better be getting back – he wanted to avoid the dark – and the doctor and his daughter, agreeing that he should, watched him mount his bike and self-consciously ride away, waving once and not trying to look back.
‘We’d better get back, too,’ Magda said, turning away. ‘Don’t want you to be over-tired, Daddy, after our walk.’
/>
‘I’m not too tired and it’s good to walk, but I’ll have to admit, I’m glad I’m not having to cycle back to Edinburgh!’
‘Oh, Boyd Scott is very fit – anyone can see that.’
‘And a very nice young fellow. I’m so glad he’s doing well, getting over his problems.’
‘Handsome, too.’
‘Oh, yes, he’s considered so,’ the doctor agreed. ‘Though it seems his girlfriend didn’t think he was handsome enough.’
To this, Magda made no reply.
Fifty-Seven
As the time drew near for Isla’s outing with Mark, she found herself remembering her meetings with Grant Revie, and was relieved that this time all would be different. There would be no secrets over her seeing Mark; he was to drive directly in to collect her, not hide in the street outside, and to make everything perfectly open, she told all her colleagues one tea break what was happening.
‘You’re going out with that sweet Mr Kinnaird?’ asked Kitty Brown, her eyes widening. ‘Oh, I always thought he was such a dear man. Aren’t you the lucky one, then?’
‘Aye, how did you get so lucky?’ asked Sheana. ‘I mean, how d’you meet up with him again?’
‘Don’t laugh, but we met on a march for the miners,’ Isla told them, and watched them all laugh anyway. A march for the miners? Talk about a romantic setting!
‘Not that Sheana and me can talk about romantic meetings, anyway,’ said Ellie. ‘I mean, where’d we meet our guys? Right here in the hydro and it took ’em all their time to get round to asking us out even then!’
Everyone laughed again, for it had been a great source of amusement that Larry Telford, now looking after the gym, had taken months to find the courage to approach Sheana, and Bart Angus, in charge of the saunas, would never have got round to asking Ellie out if she hadn’t done a little prompting.
‘No, but seriously, it shows Mark is a caring sort of person,’ Isla pressed on. ‘I mean, to be thinking about the miners, when some folk like him don’t think of them at all.’