‘Together but separate,’ she echoed. ‘Right.’ She wondered if he was talking about their relationship as well as their places of work. She didn’t know.
‘I’ll take you in and introduce you to Morag Watson, she’s the district nurse here. She’ll show you around. Then I’ll leave you with her because I’ve got morning surgery. Meet for a coffee at lunchtime?’
‘I certainly won’t need any lunch after that breakfast,’ she said.
* * *
Ben had a ritual at work. He arrived early, said hello to his receptionist and picked up any messages. Then he sat alone in his room, drank a large coffee, read his mail and thought about the day ahead. Although he was always busy he gave himself just fifteen minutes—and usually found it fifteen minutes well spent. And today he had more to think about than usual.
He had to think about Alice. When he had first seen her yesterday, windblown on the deck of the ferry, he had been amazed at how memories of the past had come hurtling back. He had not seen her for fifteen years, she had slowly passed out of his memory. His life had been full, he’d had other things to think about. But suddenly it had all come back. He remembered her as a schoolgirl and him as a schoolboy. They had worked together on their science homework. They had quartered the island on their bikes. And then he remembered their youthful fumblings. A voyage of exploration that now came back to life with a force that was almost painful. A kiss then had been so sweet! When she had talked about mending the puncture he had known that the puncture had not been the thing uppermost in her mind. That had been the first occasion he had slid his hand under her shirt and… What would that be like now? He mustn’t think that way!
He drank his coffee, tried to calm himself. Alice was different now. He could still see the schoolgirl she had been, but she had changed. Some of the gawkiness had gone, her curves had matured, she was now a woman, not a girl. He suspected that the haircut that looked so simple and artless was quite expensive. It was quite different from the close crop she’d had when younger. Her face too had changed. He suspected there was sadness there—or perhaps just experience. Then it struck him. Her face had always been attractive—perhaps in an unformed way—but now she was classically beautiful.
Today was unusual. Every morning he had a cup of coffee and it lasted the fifteen minutes he needed as his thinking time. But now the coffee-cup was empty and he needed another—after just five minutes. Things were bad.
He fetched himself another coffee and sat at his desk again. He just wasn’t facing up to the present situation. He had been instantly attracted to Alice when he had seen her again. But was this just a hangover from the feelings of his youth? And another thing. He was divorced. Getting divorced had hurt, he had tried, really tried, because he thought that marriages should last. So now he was wary, the last thing he needed was another love affair. He remembered the expression—‘on the rebound’. Well, he was a man, not a tennis ball.
Then he had to smile. For a moment he had been thinking that all he had to do was decide himself what happened between he and Alice. But what were her thoughts? She’d made them very clear. The last thing she needed was a man. She felt exactly the same as he did. There was no problem.
Alice had intended to look around her new premises, perhaps look at her flat and see how it was getting on. She wanted to ease herself into her new job. She thought she needed a bit of time alone to see what she was about to do. But she wasn’t to be alone. The person with whom she would share the new premises was already there. Ben made the briefest introductions and then left.
There was no problem. Alice knew at once that she was going to get on with Morag Watson, the district nurse.
Morag was in her fifties and in spite of having spent eight years on Soalay had lost none of her Glasgow accent. ‘Born in Glasgow, trained in Glasgow, worked in Glasgow,’ she told Alice. ‘Then I thought I’d come to the islands and take things easy for a while. Easy? It would have been easier joining the Scots Guards.’
She hustled through the set of her own well-appointed rooms, showing Alice where everything was kept. ‘Now, I’m hoping there’s going to be no territorial problems with medicines and dressings and rooms and things like that. I want to use anything of yours that I haven’t got and I’m expecting that you’ll make free with what is technically my—’
There was banging that appeared to come from the front door. ‘I suspect we’re in business,’ Morag said as they hastened to open it. ‘Come on, you might be able to help.’
‘But I can’t help. I’m not insured yet and—’
‘Are you going to tell that to that child who is wailing outside?’
At the front door was a tearful, white-faced mother, obviously shocked, clutching an even more tearful child. ‘I know you’re not open yet,’ she sobbed as Morag opened the door, ‘but…’
Morag pulled the woman inside. ‘Take the child,’ she said to Alice.
The woman went on, ‘Angus there pulled at the kettle when I was not looking. I jumped to grab him but he spilt boiling water all over his chest and my hands.’
‘We can see to it,’ Morag said. ‘Now, come through and sit down in the clinic. Alice, can you deal with Angus there?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Alice, reaching for the child. Morag was right. There was no way she could worry about insurance when there was a child in pain and she had the means to deal with that pain.
‘You’re Mrs Allan, aren’t you?’ Morag was saying. ‘Eileen Allan? I’ve seen you in the clinic here. Tell me, Eileen, what did you do when you first got scalded? Did you put any ointment or anything like that on the burns?’
‘No. I saw this programme on television, it said just put the hurt bit under cold running water. So I did that.’
‘How long for?’
Eileen looked confused. ‘Just for a minute. Till my hands felt cold and Angus’s chest seemed cold too.’
‘If it ever happens again, leave them there longer,’ Morag said. ‘Now, sit down here, don’t worry about things, you’re both going to be all right. And here’s a blanket to wrap round you, we don’t want you getting cold.’
She turned to Alice. ‘There’s a gown hanging in that cupboard, it should fit you. Gloves and the burns kit are here. Everything OK?’
‘No problem. I’ve done this before.’ Alice knew that she could cope—easily. She hadn’t expected to start work today, but she could. She fetched the gown and gloves.
‘Everything’s going to be all right,’ she said to Angus, ‘I know it hurts now but we can soon make that hurt go away.’ It was important to try to soothe Angus, make sure he wasn’t afraid that things were going to get worse.
‘Is he going to be all right?’ Eileen’s tearful voice came from behind her. ‘Is my baby badly hurt?’
At the sound of his mother’s anxious voice, Angus started to cry more than ever.
‘Nurse Muir will look after Angus and do a good job,’ Alice heard Morag say, quite sharply. ‘Now, stop worrying about him and let me look at these hands. Did you know that when I started nursing, the doctor told me to put honey on burns?’
‘Honey?’ asked a startled Eileen, ‘Why on earth use honey?’ Alice grinned. Morag knew how to divert someone who was interfering with a situation.
Quickly she checked Angus’s little body but the only injury was to the chest. She diagnosed the scald as superficial and partial—partial because the total area injured was less than the area of his hand. The skin was red and moist, it looked granular. And it hurt—which was a good thing. A burn that didn’t hurt was serious. The nerves were deadened.
In the burns kit there was paediatric paracetamol syrup, Alice gave him a dose and then made a note of what she had done. She covered the burn with the recommended powder and then a loose dressing. The skin was the natural barrier against infection in the body. Far too many burns resulted in a more serious infection.
‘There you are, Angus,’ she said, tucking a blanket round him. ‘Just lie there and sleep
if you can. We’re going to keep you here for a while and then you can go home with your mummy and everything will be all right.’
She looked up, saw Morag silently pointing at a drawer. Alice opened the drawer and grinned—there was a set of tiny teddy-bear badges, each teddy bear with a bandaged arm and leg. She took a badge. ‘And this is for you for being brave,’ she said.
Angus looked down proudly as she pinned the badge to his coat.
‘Angus is fine now,’ Alice said to Morag and Eileen. ‘The burns should have healed in ten or twenty days.’
‘So we’ll all celebrate,’ said Morag. ‘Three cups of tea and an orange juice.’
Just before lunchtime there was a call for Alice from Ben’s receptionist. Ben would have to work through his lunch-break so there would be no time for coffee. Could she stay with Morag? And there had been a phone call from Mrs McCann. Fiona was quiet but doing fine.
‘There’s always work here if you look for it,’ Morag said. ‘Especially for Dr Cav. He seems to go out of his way to look for work so I’m hoping you’ll make his life easier. Anyway, enough of medicine—come and look at your flat. It’s still like a building site but you can get some idea.’
Well, it had been a building site but now it was nearly finished. Alice thought it was wonderful—compared with the nurses’ accommodation in London it was a palace. It was in an extension of the main building, on the first floor above her new birthing unit. She had her own living room, kitchen and bathroom. There was a big bedroom and a smaller one that could be used as a study. The furniture seemed to be tasteful but unfortunately it was piled up in the centre of the living room and covered with a large white sheet. A decorator was working industriously, painting the living-room walls a pleasant shade of yellow.
‘Be about another week before we’re finished, ladies,’ he said. ‘There’s a bit of plumbing to sort out and then the carpets to fit.’
‘I’ll be watching you, Henry Chappel,’ Morag threatened. ‘Make sure you do a good job.’
‘Don’t I always?’ The painter winked at Alice.
‘You’re not bad,’ Morag allowed. ‘But we’ll be in every day to see how you’re getting on.’ When they had gone downstairs she asked Alice, ‘What do you think of the place?’
‘I think it’s wonderful. And who chose the furniture? It’s just right.’
‘Dr Cav chose it. Said he’d seen too many medical buildings ruined by letting a committee choose stuff. Now, let’s go and look at your birthing unit.’
Alice had already seen the specifications of the unit, but it was different to see it already built. Her very own MLU—midwifery-led unit. There were two delivery rooms, an assessment room, a larger room to be used as a clinic. There was an ultrasound scanner—she had gone on a year-long course to be trained to use the machine.
‘You’re going to be your own boss in here,’ Morag commented. ‘Your new mums will be perfectly happy here, they’ll have individual one-to-one care. I bet once people hear about this place that the town birth rate will go up.’
‘I’m not sure that’s the purpose of the exercise,’ Alice said.
But she was very happy with the place. It fell in line with her own ideas about child-bearing—that the more personal the attention was, the happier the mother would be. Of course, she could only deal with comparatively simple cases. Anyone needing a Caesarean, for example, would have to be shipped to a hospital on the mainland. But most cases were simple and Alice could cope. In fact, there would usually be no need to involve a doctor at all. She was a registered midwife practitioner and so could prescribe the drugs she thought necessary.
Morag led her outside. ‘And last of all—your own private ambulance. Though you’ll use it most for your usual calls.’ It was a long-wheelbase Land Rover, fitted with a bunk and a special carrier for a newborn.
Alice inspected it, open-mouthed. ‘I never expected anything like this!’
Morag nodded happily. ‘Good, isn’t it? Dr Cav fought for it. Said he didn’t want to have to order any more helicopters from the mainland for medical emergencies. Said that this would be safer—and cheaper too in the long run. That man can be convincing when he puts his mind to it. Ever driven anything like this before?’
‘Never. I’m more used to driving an old van at fifteen miles an hour through the streets of London. I even thought I might have to turn into an old-fashioned midwife and travel everywhere by bike.’
‘Those times are gone,’ Morag said half sadly. ‘Are you going to be happy here?’
‘Very. I can’t wait to move in and get started.’
They walked back to Morag’s clinic. ‘So d’you fancy working this afternoon? I’ve been having to cover a lot of the midwife’s work and my own work has suffered a bit. There’s three pregnancy examinations you could do.’
‘I’d love to,’ Alice said, and then hesitated. ‘There’s just one thing. I need to know that I’m insured. That it’s all right for me to work. I’ve got to be covered. I’m not supposed to start for a week.’
Morag looked at her curiously. ‘I’m not asking you to do anything drastic,’ she said. ‘No deliveries or anything. Just simple examinations.’
‘I’d still like you to phone Ben to make sure it’s OK.’
Alice could see that Morag was a bit surprised by this, even a little hurt. Then she looked at Alice shrewdly. ‘You’ve got a reason for asking, haven’t you? A definite reason, something that happened not too long ago?’
Clever of her. Alice thought. But she merely said, ‘I’ve learned that it’s always best to be covered. Tell you what, let me phone Ben and explain. He can phone the trust and get things sorted out.’
She didn’t like bothering him but it was something she felt needed to be done. When she got through it was obvious that Ben didn’t think there was a problem either. But he said he’d ask his receptionist to get in touch with the trust and ask their opinion. And fifteen minutes later he phoned back. ‘You’re covered. Have a good afternoon. What do you think of your new home?’
‘Ben, it’s wonderful! I couldn’t have designed anything better myself.’
‘I’m glad you’re pleased. I spent a lot of time working on the plans. Now, you’re coming back with me to stay tonight?’
She hesitated…but it was the obvious thing to do. ‘If you’ll have me,’ she said, ‘I’d love to.’
She found that she was looking forward to going home with him. Then she frowned. Why was she looking forward to it?
Fiona was still very tired but much better. When Alice and Ben got back to Taighean dhe Gaoithe she had been bathed and fed by Mrs McCann but allowed to stay up until she had seen Ben. He put her to bed while Alice sat in the living room and stared out to sea.
She wondered quite what she was doing there. Why was she feeling so comfortable, so much at home? She had come here to be mistress of her own fate, to have her own place to live, her own place to work. To be beholden to no one. And she’d promptly found herself living in the house of an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t a good idea.
A week until her flat was finished? Well, she supposed she could manage that. And then, when she’d moved in, perhaps she’d have a better perspective on things. Life at the moment seemed…odd.
However, a couple of hours later she was feeling slightly different. After a wonderful meal cooked by Mrs McCann (fish landed not three hours before) she was sitting with Ben again and staring happily out at the setting sun. ‘It’s been sunny every day I’ve spent so far in Soalay,’ she said. ‘All two of them.’
Ben laughed. ‘Don’t get carried away by that idea. You must remember the weather here. It can turn from sun to rain in the time it takes you to open your umbrella.’
‘I remember. I’ve packed my waterproofs.’
They sat there for a while longer in companionable silence. In the background were grumblings from Fiona’s baby alarm.
‘We both agree that she will probably sleep through tonight,’ Ben said, ‘so you ca
n sleep in your own bed and I’ll have the alarm in my room as before. There should be no—’
‘She still might wake up,’ Alice said, ‘so I’d quite like to sleep in her bedroom again. Just in case. And if she does wake up a lot, I could do as you suggested and sleep in tomorrow morning.’
Ben looked at her and laughed. ‘You stay in bed tomorrow morning? Do you expect me to believe that?’
Alice sighed. ‘Perhaps not. But, Ben, I do want to sleep in her room tonight.’
She could tell he was thinking, she had forgotten just how shrewd he could be. ‘There are reasons you want to sleep in Fiona’s room?’ he asked quietly. ‘Special reasons?’
She didn’t answer for a moment. Then, ‘Yes, there are reasons. But I don’t want to go into them now. If it’s all right with you.’
‘It’s all right. And if you’re sure you don’t mind… I’m very happy for you to sleep there with her. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have as her nurse.’
Alice felt warm at this. So he appreciated her. As a nurse.
They both gazed out at the setting sun again. After a while he said, ‘I only found out about a week ago that it was you who would be coming here. It gave me quite a shock. Our usual midwife-cum-children’s nurse has taken a year’s maternity leave and decided to stay with her husband’s family on the mainland. She said she knew that if she stayed here she’d still work—so it was better to leave. I have to agree with her. Anyway, the trust contracted with an agency to find a replacement, they found a Miss Prendergast. She was very well qualified but she’d spent most of her life working in a town-centre hospital. She was nearly sixty. I liked her but I didn’t think she was quite the ideal for a place where you need to be out and about all the time. Still, we needed someone desperately and I thought we could make things work. Then I got a message saying that Miss Prendergast had dropped out and that you were coming in her place. What happened to her, do you know?’
The Midwife And The Single Dad Page 4
