There was silence. Then, his voice formal, he said, ‘Of course, Alice, it was very wrong of me to ask you. If she does come to see you, tell her it sounds like a problem for the doctor, not you.’
‘Ben! Don’t be silly! Of course I want to help. And you…you are nothing like Sean Evans. Look, leave it with me and I’ll do what I can.’
‘That’s the Alice Muir I thought I knew.’ And he rang off.
Then he rang back again five minutes later. ‘Alice, I don’t know whether this is good news or bad news—but you need to be proud of yourself.’
‘That’s nice,’ she said, feeling a little jerk of excitement at the compliment.
‘I’ve just heard from the mainland hospital, the people who have been looking at Albert Laws. They’ve found a meningioma on his sphenoidal ridge. The surgeon thinks he can excise it.’
‘A meningioma! That’s a benign tumour, isn’t it?’
‘It’s benign. But any tumour in the skull is going to cause problems. The operation will last ten or twelve hours.’
Alice shuddered. This was a branch of medicine she hadn’t dealt with for quite a while. ‘Well, I’m glad we got to Albert in time. How successful…? I mean…’
‘The surgeon is very hopeful and he’s known to be a good man. Seventy per cent of these cases died forty years ago, now we’re down to thirty per cent. That is good progress.’
‘And how is Freddie?’
‘It was Freddie who phoned me. Actually, he’s quite a devoted father. He doesn’t like being wrong—but he asked me to pass on his thanks to you.’
‘Well, that’s something. I think I’ll strike while I have the advantage. I’ll phone and tell him that he has to make sure that Debbie comes into the birthing unit, instead of having a home delivery.’
‘Great idea. You’re a good nurse, Alice Muir,’ Ben said, and rang off. Alice felt a throb of delight at the praise.
She thought about Ann Fairing—now Ann McCann—all through her lunch-break. At first she couldn’t think of her as Ann, she had to think of her as Mouse. But then she realized this was now a mature woman with two children. Mouse had been a schoolgirl nickname—and not a very complimentary one. Now she must think of her as Ann.
When she sat at her desk again she looked through her notes and found the details of Ann’s two children—the injections they’d been given, the inspections they’d had. Not much wrong at all—but she could always make something sound a little worse. She rang Ann.
‘I see from his notes that your boy Alec had a bit of a problem with a rash that wouldn’t go away. Has it gone now?’
Ann’s voice was wary. ‘He’s had no trouble for a few months. Do you want to see him?’
‘I doubt that is necessary. But why don’t you call round for a chat? Could you come this afternoon? At any time?’
‘I think I’d like that. Yes, I’ll come.’
Alice frowned as she rang off. There was something wrong, she could tell from Ann’s voice.
Ann was nervous—it was more than that, Ann was worried to death. Her face was pale, she fiddled constantly with her handbag. She wouldn’t tell Alice why she had come, instead she kept referring back to happier days at school. She wouldn’t talk about her husband and when Alice asked about him, she looked even more pale. But Alice felt that she loved him. So what could Alice do to gain her confidence?
Eventually Ann gave her a lead. ‘But why are you back here, Alice? I heard on the grapevine that you were doing really well in London. What brought you back to a little place like this?’
Alice decided that if you want to get you had to give. A confidence for a confidence. ‘I’ll tell you a secret, Ann. I made a big mistake. The usual one—man trouble. I picked the wrong one. Then he got me into trouble at work and I felt I had to leave. And I’d just had a miscarriage so I needed a change. A haven. Somewhere where there was no trouble, and I think this place is it. I can be quiet and happy here.’
‘Quiet and happy,’ Ann said. ‘That seems good.’
Alice saw her flinch. ‘Why not tell me, Ann?’ she said. ‘I know there’s something wrong and you know that you’ve got to tell someone. Tell an old school friend.’
Finally Ann broke down. She burst into tears. ‘I didn’t really want to do it and I daren’t tell anybody. And Dr Cavendish is so nice but if I tell him it will go on his notes and they’ll be there for the rest of my life. Besides, he knows me and he’s a friend and I—’
‘You can tell me. I’m not a doctor, you’re not my patient, I don’t take notes. We’re just two old school friends catching up.’ Then Alice decided to take a chance. ‘But I do have some medical knowledge.’
Ann dried her eyes, took a larger handkerchief out of her bag and blew her nose. Her voice still quavered but she was trying to make it stronger. ‘You know how you can love somebody and yet things just seem to go wrong?’
‘I know,’ said Alice. ‘And especially when you’re parted from each other.’
‘Well, I do love Alec and I always have but…he was away and I was lonely…’
It was a sad story, Alice thought, but perhaps not uncommon. Ann had met a visitor to the island. He seemed nice, they had a brief one-night stand. Afterwards she felt guilty but later on she felt more guilty. And terrified. The signs were certain. She had been infected by some kind of sexually transmitted disease. ‘And there’s this pain in my sides all the time. What if I’ve got AIDS, Alice? What about the children?’
Alice managed to keep her expression neutral. ‘No need to worry about that quite yet.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Did you say you were suffering from pain in your sides? Sort of lower in your body, pelvic inflammation, in fact?’
‘Yes. It’s a dull sort of pain but it seems to be there a lot.’
‘Right. Look, do you mind if I examine you?’
Alice wasn’t a doctor and knew she shouldn’t be acting as one. But still…the chances were that, working in one of the most cosmopolitan areas of London, she’d probably had more experience of this kind of disease than Ben. So she took Ann into the treatment room and examined her. Then she fetched a swab, took a sample. ‘I can do this for you now, but you will need further tests for other diseases. Just sit here and read a magazine for a minute. I’ll fetch you a cup of tea and I’ll be back in a while.’
It wasn’t a kit that Alice used often. A home testing kit. She would much prefer to send samples to a large reputable laboratory and have the most definite diagnosis possible. But this kit was the latest state-of-the-art development and was guaranteed to be ninety-nine per cent successful.
Alice took the swab, followed the instructions. And then she sighed with relief. This was good news—of a sort. She went back to Ann. ‘You’ve got chlamydia. It’s nasty but if it’s caught early then it’s not too serious and I can get you the medicine to treat it sent in a plain envelope from the mainland. It can come here. It’s an antibiotic. As I remember, it’s doxycycline, a set of pills that you take for a week. And then you’ll be cured.’
‘You can do that for me? Alice, you’re an angel. Oh, and you won’t tell the doctor, will you? I couldn’t bear him to know.’
Alice saw the hope drain from Ann’s face as she didn’t at once give the hoped for answer. But then she made up her mind. ‘No, I won’t tell the doctor. I do think you ought to, I know he’ll be sympathetic. But I won’t tell him. OK? In the meantime, I’ll refer you to a genitourinary clinic on the mainland to be on the safe side.’
A much happier Ann had gone home and Alice waited for the phone call that she knew would come. And in time Ben did phone. His voice was hopeful. ‘Alice? I saw Ann passing my window, she looked happy. Did you find out what was wrong?’
Alice hesitated, but this had to be said. ‘Now you have to trust me. If there’s a problem then I have dealt with it.’
Silence from the phone. Then, ‘I’m Ann McCann’s GP and I’m concerned about her.’
‘I just told you, Ben. You have to trust me.’<
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There was another silence and then he said, ‘Trust. That’s a word that you’ve used a lot recently. You’ve felt that your trust has been abused. Well, I won’t do that. Fair enough, I do trust you. And, Alice, thanks for your help.’
Alice put down the receiver. More and more she was realising that not all men were like Sean Evans. Ben wasn’t. And she loved him for it.
Later that afternoon she went on another visit to one of the little settlements. Since she now lived over the job, she really enjoyed it when she had a reason—not an excuse—to go driving round the island. The women in the town had no difficulty walking to see her, but a fair proportion of the population lived in far-flung cottages and farms. There were no buses so people relied on their own transport. And if their husband needed the vehicle during the day…
She enjoyed her trip out, this was the furthest she had ever been. Near the town there tended to be visitors exploring their little bit of wilderness, but few of them got this far. Some distance from town she crossed a long section of boggy land, glad to use the four-wheel-drive. Often the surface of the road was covered with stagnant water, occasionally the water was deeper than she had realised. She didn’t like it. Water belonged in streams and the sea, not on roads.
Eventually she came to the islet of Calvag. She stopped before crossing to it. Years ago she and Ben had cycled this far but they had decided to go no further than this. Careful or afraid? She wasn’t sure which.
There was a shallow stretch of sea between the mainland and the island, and to get to the island it was necessary to drive across a fifty-yard causeway. The causeway had been built many years ago, now parts of it were crumbling. There was talk of European money being available to rebuild it but it hadn’t appeared yet. At low tide the causeway stood proud of the water. At high tide the sea washed over it—but only deep enough to cover the bottom of a vehicle’s tyres. In good weather, that was. In bad weather, things could be different.
Alice had checked the tides, knew that everything should be fine. And the sun was shining and the mountains stood clear. All would be well.
There was a little row of cottages, only four of them inhabited. She was visiting Eleanor Reay, a primigravida thirty weeks into her pregnancy. The usual pencilled notes told Alice that at the moment there was no husband with her. He was one of the many who had to work away—in his case, on the ferries. He got home for a longish stay once a fortnight and had arranged for time off when the birth was imminent.
It was Alice’s first visit to Eleanor, she felt a little guilty at not having visited her so far. But Eleanor didn’t mind, she was happy where she was. ‘I get on well with the other people here, even though they are mostly a bit older than me.’
‘You don’t get lonely?’
Eleanor laughed. ‘Well, soon I’ll have a baby to keep me company, won’t I? No, I don’t get lonely. Did I hear that you used to work in London?’
‘For the last fifteen years.’
Eleanor shook her head. ‘I’ve only been once and I knew it wouldn’t suit me. All the noise and the smell and so many people! There’s just no peace there. And I like to live here because of what the land can give me. See those pictures?’ She pointed to a set of pen-and-ink drawings of seabirds, lined neatly on one wall. Alice had noticed them when she’d come into the living room but hadn’t liked to go over and look at them. Now she did. ‘They’re lovely,’ she said, ‘so precise.’
‘I draw them and I sell quite a few. Drawing keeps me from being lonely.’ From a drawer she took a large album. ‘You know how a lot of people keep a set of photographs of their baby, showing how it’s growing? Well, I’m going to do something different. I’m going to do a set of drawings. See, I’ve done the first one. Twenty weeks before birth.’
Alice had never seen anything like it. Eleanor had obviously worked from the ultrascan of her baby, taken at twenty weeks. But somehow she had taken the vague image and turned it into a living thing. There was love in the drawing. ‘I think that’s wonderful,’ she said, and meant every word.
So far Eleanor was turning out to be the perfect mother-to-be. She was eating well, resting properly, keeping her body fit. She practised relaxation every day. She knew exactly what to expect, had read every book suggested to her. Only one thing to decide now.
Alice was hesitant. Eleanor was so obviously happy with her lonely home. It would be possible for her to come out here and deliver the baby but it would mean leaving her work for some time. That would make things difficult as there would be no one to take her place. ‘Have you any thoughts about the delivery?’
Fortunately Eleanor was very practical. ‘I’d love to have the baby here,’ she said, ‘but I realise that would be selfish. So will you book me into your new birthing unit?’
‘Happy to,’ said Alice gratefully. ‘I’d like to stay here with you but…you’re right. It would be difficult.’
Alice felt happy as she set off back. Eleanor was the perfect primigravida. She knew what to expect and was prepared for it. If only all mothers-to-be were like her!
The tide had turned when she re-crossed the causeway, tzzhe water higher. Alice smiled. She didn’t mind. Perhaps she was getting over her irrational fear of water.
‘This is Soalay weather,’ Ben said next day. ‘We know what to expect.’ He was standing beside her outside the surgery, both were looking up at the mountains. They couldn’t see the mountain peaks, which were shrouded in mist. And there was dampness in the wind that blew against them. ‘It’s going to rain.’ He was stating the obvious.
They were standing by his Land Rover. Alice was in her uniform, of course, but she threw a set of heavy waterproofs and a pair of Wellingtons into the car. They could well be needed.
It was the afternoon and she was going out with Ben again. He was going to check on the progress of a woman who had a broken arm as there was some suggestion of infection. She also had a child who needed injections. Ben had suggested that this was her work so they could drive out together. It would be a good idea not to make their patients both come into town.
Alice had agreed that it would be a good idea. But she wondered because if he really did need her, he could have given the injections. Perhaps he just wanted her company? The thought made her feel warm inside.
‘Fiona was asking when we’d see you again,’ he said as they drove out of town. ‘She’s quite missing you.’
‘I’m missing her. My flat is lovely and I’m very happy there but I remember staying at Taighean dhe Gaoithe and…’
Then she stopped. She couldn’t really tell a man just how much she had enjoyed living with him in his house. It might seem a bit…forward.
This was the first time they’d been really alone together for any length of time since her cut-short dinner party. The first time they’d been alone since he had kissed her. Nothing had been said about it. She wondered if it had been just one isolated incident that was of no importance to him and would be quickly forgotten. She hadn’t forgotten it. And she thought—hoped—that he hadn’t either.
Today they drove to the opposite end of the island, the hillier end. And as they left the town, the expected rain started. Steady at first, but then a definite downpour, rattling on the windscreen and making it hard to see what was ahead. Ben switched on the lights. Alice decided not to say anything as he needed to concentrate. But it was a pity. She thought they needed to talk.
They reached the farmhouse that was their destination, managed to park right by the front door and then dash inside without bothering with their wet-weather clothes. And everything else went well. There was no problem with the broken arm, the little boy who needed the injections stood there and accepted them calmly, the household was happy and healthy. One quick mug of tea and they were on their way.
‘Ahead of schedule,’ he said, ‘that’s unusual.’
‘In medicine, every job takes twice as long as the time allowed for it,’ she quoted. ‘But this was the exception that proved the rule. Did
you know that in that saying, the word “proved” meant tested?’
He glanced at her, disconcerted. ‘No, I didn’t. But now the saying makes sense. Alice, did you know that you still have the power to surprise me?’
‘Good,’ she said.
If anything, the rain was even harder now and they were bumping slowly down a narrow road along the side of a narrow valley. And, as had happened so often recently, she remembered something. A flash of complete recollection, as if what had happened had happened yesterday, not sixteen years before.
‘Stop here,’ she said when they were halfway down the valley. ‘Stop here, pull in by that big rock.’
He was shocked by the urgency of her tone.’ Why? Are you all right? Not sick or anything?’
‘I’ve never felt better. But pull in anyway.’
He did as she urged him and when they’d stopped she leapt out of the car, dashed for the shelter of the big rock. After a moment he joined her. The rock was undercut, they were standing, sheltered from the rain, in what was almost a cave. The rain hung like a silver curtain over the cave entrance.
They stood, silent, irresolute, looking at each other.
After a while he said, ‘You have that look in your eye. I suspect that you have memories of this place.’
‘Don’t be shy with me, Benjamin Cavendish! You remember this rock very well! We came here when we were cycling together.’
‘We covered most of this island while we were cycling. What was special about this place?’
But she knew by the half-smile on his face that he did remember. Her voice was dreamy as she said, ‘I was just getting to know you. We’d come up here on our bikes and it started to rain. It wasn’t raining like this, we knew it was only a shower so we came here to shelter. And then…’
‘And then I kissed you,’ he said. ‘I had wanted to for so long.’
The Midwife And The Single Dad Page 9
