A Caring Heart

by Margaret Carr

  His face split in a smile. ‘Any friend of yours will be good enough for me.’

  ‘Good,’ she said bending forward to place a kiss on his cheek. ‘I have to go back tonight, but I’ll see you soon.’

  He nodded. ‘I have two more weeks here then a spot of leave.’

  She walked away down the ward turning at the entrance to wave to him, and then hurried to the station to catch the train home. There was a group of soldiers playing cards in her carriage and a businessman reading a newspaper opposite.

  This train only necessitated one changeover for which she was profoundly grateful. That was until it pulled into a siding in Northallerton. No-one took any notice for a while. Then the elderly gentleman opposite folded his paper and looked around. The soldiers’ card game came to an end and they, too, started to take an interest in their surroundings. The men in the corridors were climbing over luggage and kit bags to gather at the door and hang out of the window.

  The soldiers in the carriage forced open their door and called along to ask what the hold-up was. When he received only a garbled reply he withdrew his head and answered the businessman’s query with a shrug of his shoulders. More time passed and it was growing dark. Isobel worried that she would miss her train in Newcastle.

  Two-and-a-half hours later they felt a bumping and jarring and it was rumoured that they had exchanged trains and were now about to continue their journey. She had missed her connection by three-quarters-of-an-hour when she arrived in Newcastle. What was worse, it had been the last train. She stood on the platform as others milled around her wondering what on earth she was going to do now.

  As she headed for the bus station she knew it would take three buses to get her back to Thornbury, but at this time of the evening the chances that all three would be running was doubtful.

  Leaving the train station she was about to cross the road when a large black Austin pulled up in front of her. The door was flung open and a familiar voice called for her to get in.

  ‘How did you know?’ she asked climbing in beside Jack.

  ‘We pick up all kinds of messages in our job.’ He grinned. ‘How did you find Alan?’

  She turned to him eagerly and told him all about her visit.

  Back in the cottage they fell into each other’s arms until Jack murmured close to her ear. ‘I can’t keep Wally waiting.’

  * * *

  Back on her rounds the following day she bumped into Meg Foster who despite everything had given birth to a healthy baby boy and was looking much fitter.

  ‘Are you still at Beacon Hill?’ Isobel asked her.

  ‘No, Nurse. They wanted my cottage for one of their lads. But we’re to be fine, me and the kids. I’ve been visiting Mr Heron, and he’s so much better now and looking forward to leaving the hospital. He’s bought himself a house out Dumfries way and wants me and the kiddies to go with him and take care of things.’

  ‘My goodness. You’ll have your hands full with his three and your own four children to look after.’

  ‘Oh, they’ll be no problem, but I told him I have no learning for housekeeping. But he up and told me it wasn’t important, only that I was a good worker and had a kind heart. So I reckon I’m onto a good thing.’

  Isobel smiled. ‘I think you very well might be at that, Meg. Good luck to you and the children.’

  * * *

  The new doctor had arrived when Isobel reported for evening surgery that night. Michael Heeligan was his name. Doctor Turnbull introduced him with a scowl.

  After the new doctor had retreated into the house and Isobel was on the point of ushering in their first patient, Doctor Turnbull growled, ‘I suppose now we will be pulled out with all the women in the village developing minor ailments.’

  Isobel smothered a smile. It was true that Doctor Heeligan was quite the handsomest man to have been seen in these parts for some time. And true to word, the following surgeries were so busy the patients were queuing out of the door.

  Another room had been opened up at the rear of the house for Doctor Heeligan and in no time at all the patients were swapping seats in the waiting room for the chance to be seen by the new doctor.

  Doctor Tumbull’s temper did not improve with the easing of his work load and Isobel became more convinced than ever that there really was something wrong with him. Again she questioned Mrs Holland as to what could be the matter. The housekeeper frowned and agreed that something must be done.

  ‘He won’t take any notice of me, but perhaps if you were to speak to him?’

  ‘He would chew me up.’

  The housekeeper nodded. ‘But you might find out what is wrong with him first.’ The two women looked at one another sizing up a difficult situation then Isobel sighed. ‘I suppose,’ she said.

  She chose her moment carefully two nights later when the last patient had just left after being told there was nothing wrong with them that a tot of whisky and lemonade wouldn’t put right.

  ‘Now Doctor Heeligan is here, why don’t you go to visit your daughter in Edinburgh?’

  He was rifling through a drawer looking for something he had mislaid when Isobel spoke.

  He looked up. ‘And why would I want to do that? I haven’t seen the woman for ten years.’

  ‘Well you have never had the time before. Now you have.’

  ‘What’s that woman been complaining about now?’ he snapped, slamming the drawer shut. ‘Have you seen that paper? I left it here on my desk.’

  ‘Mrs Holland hasn’t been complaining about anything. We just thought you might need a change now that Doctor Heeligan is here to take the workload.’

  ‘She’s been in here again and moved that paper.’ He was scrabbling through a cupboard behind his desk. ‘I’ve told the woman until I’m sick, not to touch my papers.’

  Isobel sighed. ‘Is this it,’ she asked, picking up a file of loose papers and offering it to him. He snatched it from her hand and tucking it under his arm left the room. Isobel’s frown deepened. Now she was really worried.

  * * *

  Michael Heeligan took the next two surgeries and when Isobel enquired after Doctor Turnbull she was told that he had gone to his daughter’s in Edinburgh. Mrs Holland confirmed this when Isobel called into the kitchen after work.

  ‘He made his mind up on the spur of the moment. You know what he’s like. It was the new doctor that persuaded him finally. Clever young man he is and no bother to look after. It’s a pleasure to cook for him, not like Albert who grouses at everything.’

  ‘Albert?’ Isobel gasped. ‘Doctor Turnbull’s name is Albert?’

  ‘Yes, didn’t you know? Albert Joseph Reynolds Turnbull. That’s what it says on his birth certificate. I had to collect it for him on one occasion, it was open and I saw it.’

  ‘How long is he away for?’

  ‘He didn’t say. Perhaps Doctor Heeligan knows.’

  She wasn’t due on duty until Wednesday morning so the first thing she did when she arrived at the surgery was to speak to Doctor Heeligan.

  ‘Do you know when Doctor Turnbull is returning?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. I wonder if you would be so kind as to show our new receptionist around.’

  ‘Receptionist?’

  ‘Well you must admit we need one, with two rooms busy you are run off your feet trying to cover both.’

  * * *

  Things were changing Isobel admitted to herself as she did her rounds that afternoon. What on earth would Doctor Turnbull say when he came home and found a receptionist installed in the little cloakroom at the back door.

  Michael Heeligan might be good looking but his character left a lot to be desired. He behaved as though he had been given carte blanche to do whatever he wanted to the surgery and Isobel knew Doctor Turnbull would never have agreed to that.

  She was concentrating on finding a new address that she hadn’t visited before when she realised that the person on her list was in fact one of Nurse Thompson’s patients.

  She t
ackled Michael Heeligan about this error when she returned to the surgery and was told that from now on the two nurses would divide the calls between them.

  ‘But that won’t work. The patients get used to one particular nurse seeing them each time.’ As she spoke she thought of what Duncan would have to say if Nurse Thompson and she called on alternate visits. ‘Our patients get used to us.’

  ‘I’ll grant you that, Nurse, but on the other hand it will give you more time in the surgery so we can set up special clinics for the children and the old.’

  ‘What does Doctor Turnbull have to say about all this?’

  She could feel her temper rising. Who did this upstart think he was? People thought the world of Doctor Turnbull and the practice had worked perfectly well for years suiting all patients.

  ‘I have bought the practice from Doctor Turnbull and he won’t be returning, I’m afraid.’

  This statement hit Isobel like a hammer blow. ‘Won’t be returning?’ she whispered. ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Doctor Turnbull is ill, Nurse Ross. His daughter, as I’m sure you are aware, is a nursing sister at the Royal in Edinburgh. When he knew there was no cure for his illness he made the brave decision to go to the hospital so that the doctors there could carry out tests on him to try to discover more about the illness. He didn’t want a fuss so said goodbye to no-one. Please don’t feel hurt by his neglect. It was, I am sure, to save you becoming upset as much as himself. I hope you will serve me as well as you did him, it is after all the same practice.’

  ‘I will have to think about that, Doctor. I realise things will change but I am not sure that I am prepared to change with them. Good day.’

  * * *

  Two weeks later Alan came home on leave. She had promised to take him up to Pine Tree Farm to meet the Lewises, but before she did that she wanted to talk to him about Jack and their future.

  When Jack appeared late one afternoon she had to leave them together to go to evening surgery. She worried and fretted all through surgery wondering what was happening and couldn’t wait to get home again, only to find the cottage in darkness.

  On the point of going up to The Apple herself she stopped and took a deep breath. They would come back eventually and whatever they had decided about the other they wouldn’t be telling her, so she might as well stop fussing, she scolded herself.

  She was in bed when she heard them return. There was the odd bang and shushing, giggles and hushed words. Well, she thought, they are both here and it doesn’t sound as though they have fallen out. She heard the tap in the kitchen then footsteps coming upstairs. She held her breath, there were two sets of footsteps surely, she sat bolt upright in bed.

  They turned into the back bedroom with its old double bed. The bedsprings groaned, low voices could be heard through the wall then nothing. Isobel tossed and turned all night but apart from the sound of snoring there was no more noise from next door.

  Next morning she was up making porridge in the kitchen when Alan arrived behind her to ask what was to eat. He looked tired.

  ‘Did you have a good night?’

  ‘Sorry we were a bit late.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, dipping his finger into the honey and sucking it. ‘He stayed over.’

  ‘Jack?’

  He nodded. ‘Not a bad chap when you get to know him,’ he said, watching her face.

  ‘Is he coming down?’

  He shook his head. ‘He left before cock crow.’

  She poured the porridge into two bowls and carried it through to the table. As they sat down to eat he said, ‘He wants us to go up to his parents’ place this afternoon. He said you knew about it.’

  ‘Yes, you’ll like them, they are very nice people.’

  When they arrived at the farm, in the car Jack had sent for them with Wally at the wheel, they were greeted by Jack who took Isobel by the hand and led her into the house. Alan and Wally followed behind.

  Inside Joyce, Duncan and Bobby sat around the table looking expectantly. ‘I told Mam and Dad we had something we wanted to tell them,’ Jack said, when he had introduced Alan and they were all assembled.

  Isobel cast a swift anxious glance at Alan, who seemed totally at ease.

  ‘Well I spoke to Alan last night and he was agreeable that Isobel and I should get married.’

  Isobel released a relieved sigh and leant in close as Jack put his arm around her.

  Alan swung her away from Jack and lifting her off her feet hugged her close while the other people in the room burst into smiles, laughter and congratulations.

  Much later Jack and Isobel crept away to the front room. ‘This is where I first saw you and knew you were going to be trouble right from the start,’ he said softly drawing her into his arms. ‘It won’t be easy, I still have bad nights.’

  ‘I don’t care about your bad nights,’ she said anxiously, ‘but I have to tell you that I may decide to give up my work and if I do I will lose the cottage then we will have nowhere to live.’

  He kissed the top of her head before saying, ‘There is a certain gardener’s cottage at the back of the Hall. It is empty now and used to house tools and equipment, but sorted out it could make a comfortable home for two.’

  ‘Oh Jack, do you think we could get it?’ she asked wistfully.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it for some time. It will be convenient yet private, the only thing holding me back was the distance to the surgery.’

  ‘I’ll put in my notice tomorrow.’

  His kiss took her breath away.