by Katie Fforde
‘But, Mother—’
‘No, really,’ Maisie insisted. ‘I’m better off here. Emily will keep an eye on me. She’s a midwife.’
Robert laughed. ‘What is or isn’t wrong with you, Mother dear, I don’t think you’ll need a midwife to cure it!’
Emily laughed. ‘I think Maisie means I’m in a caring profession and I was a nurse for a short time before I did my training.’
‘I don’t think we should give everyone extra work,’ said Robert. ‘It’s all hard enough for them without adding nursing duties.’
‘That’s very true, Robert,’ said his mother. ‘But what’s the alternative?’
‘I don’t mind looking after Maisie,’ said Emily. ‘So far she’s been no trouble.’
‘Tell you what,’ said James. ‘We’ll get a doctor to call in. If he thinks you need to go home, or to hospital, or whatever, you can go.’
‘I wouldn’t like to bother a doctor with my trivial aches and pains.’
‘No bother. He’s my brother. He’ll come if I ask him.’
Maisie was still not happy with this idea. ‘But we’ve moved. We’re probably miles away from where he lives.’
James laughed. ‘We haven’t moved that far and my brother has patients all over the area.’
‘That would be really kind,’ said Robert quickly, before his mother could think of another reason why she shouldn’t get medical attention.
Emily went back to the galley, wondering how many brothers James had. Could the man who’d driven her from Lochgilphead in almost total silence possibly be a GP? If so, she doubted his bedside manner would be up to much. She’d had better conversations with her neighbour’s dog.
She was peeling hardboiled eggs for the fisherman’s pie when she saw the doctor arrive. He came down the steps, murmuring to James, and she realised it was the one who’d driven her to the boat. He was still broodingly handsome but looked more relaxed now. Maybe he was one of those people who were happier when working, not knowing quite how to carry on in more social situations. They disappeared into the accommodation where Maisie had been persuaded to rest until the doctor had seen her.
Billie, who, as cook for the night, should have been dealing with the fish, was still absent. Emily considered going to find her but felt that might look like nagging; and Billie was probably helping Drew do something she would claim was more important than cooking. Emily decided to carry on without her. She rescued the haddock from the oven and poured off the milk. She was looking for capers when James came to the galley.
‘Alasdair would like a quick word if that’s all right. On deck? Maisie’s coming back up now. She feels “just fine” apparently. And where’s Billie? Shouldn’t she be here?’
‘She’s probably busy doing something else,’ said Emily. ‘But like Maisie, I’m just fine.’
She went up on deck and saw Alasdair looking across the water. He turned as he heard her approach. ‘Hello, I’m the doctor.’
Was there a suspicion of a twinkle in those very dark, heavy-browed eyes? Emily couldn’t be sure and didn’t take the chance and smile in response. You couldn’t take back a smile once it was offered. ‘I know. We’ve met. Only you didn’t say you were a doctor.’
‘No reason I should have mentioned it, but I am one and now I’d like a quick word with you about Maisie.’
‘I’ve only just met her,’ said Emily before he could say any more. ‘So I couldn’t really tell you much about her condition.’
‘I know that. But could you keep an eye on her? Here? On the puffer? As well as everything else you have to do?’
Emily considered. ‘I was a nurse once – I told Maisie about it – but it was years and years ago.’
‘She doesn’t need nursing, she just needs an eye on her. She has low blood sugar and I’ve given her some medication but you’ll need to check she’s taken it. Tell me immediately if she doesn’t start to get better soon, or if she gets worse. Do what you’ve done already, basically.’
Emily didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m really fond of Maisie, we get on well, but supposing she got worse while I was doing something else?’
‘Her son is here. He’ll have the responsibility. And if she went home – which she really doesn’t want to do – she’d be on her own. Here, she’ll have company and wouldn’t be depending on neighbours.’
‘Well then, of course.’
‘But would you have time? You’re new to the job and I know how hard the cooks work on board. The puffer has a fine reputation for food it has to keep up.’ He was smiling now, and there was a hint of challenge in his manner.
‘Put like that, I’m sure I could manage. I’m not cooking all on my own, after all.’ Having been a bit reluctant to take on the responsibility of an elderly lady, now she felt affronted when Alasdair suggested she might not be able to do it.
‘I gather from James that you’re not getting the help you should be getting.’
Emily nodded. ‘Not at the moment, no, but I’m working on that. I’ll have Billie eating out of my hand by the end of the week.’ She smiled ruefully, aware she’d set herself a big challenge. ‘I’m better with people like Maisie.’
He acknowledged this with a nod of his dark head and the same almost-smile Emily now recognised. ‘She told me she’s letting you help with her knitting. I reckon she doesn’t do that very often.’ He was clearly surprised and possibly a little bit impressed.
Emily let herself relax a little. This man may be a GP but he wasn’t local to her or her work. Nothing he could do or say could affect her livelihood. She could probably just treat him like any other man. ‘I have to do a test piece first, though, and I may not be good enough. It’s a shame if she can’t do it herself any more.’
Alasdair nodded. ‘I gather from her son that it’s been a struggle for a while, which is a real loss for her. If you could help a bit it would mean a lot. Do a lot for her health, too.’
Emily allowed herself to smile now. This man understood the connection between happiness and health – he couldn’t be all bad. ‘I’d be delighted to.’ Then she looked questioningly at him. ‘So tell me, why didn’t you say anything – hardly a word – when you drove me from Lochgilphead? I thought I was sharing a car with an elective mute.’
‘I’d had very strict instructions from Rebecca. And you should never go against the whims of a pregnant woman.’
‘What? She told you that you weren’t to speak to me? Why on earth would she do that?’
‘She told me you hated GPs and I wasn’t to upset you by telling you I was one.’
Emily blushed slightly. It was a rather extreme description of her feelings but it was based on what she herself had told Rebecca. ‘I don’t hate all GPs. Anyway, you could have talked about the scenery or something.’
‘But you might have asked me what I did for a living and then I’d have been sunk.’
‘As you were giving me a lift I would have kept my feelings to myself.’
‘Well, that’s good to hear. Any particular reason why you hate doctors in general practice?’
Emily didn’t want to go into it all now. ‘I said I don’t hate all of them and there is a good reason why I hate some of them but now’s not the time. I must get back to the kitchen.’
‘Galley,’ he corrected.
‘Galley,’ she repeated and went back down below.
Emily was a bit thrown by this encounter. And a bit annoyed with Rebecca. She had obviously meant well, not wanting Emily to have to make polite conversation with a man who may have very different views from her own about how babies should be born. But now it was a bigger thing than it should have been, really. Emily was used to fighting her corner, after all. She was capable of having a conversation with a GP without going off into a rant – provided the GP wasn’t insisting that all births should take place in hospital, with every medical intervention currently invented. But Rebecca was pregnant and Emily would make allowances.
Emily was not entirely su
rprised when Rebecca appeared. She’d gathered now that the puffer’s route did not always cover huge stretches and could quite easily be caught up with by car, although sometimes a ferry would be part of the journey.
‘I’m just seeing how things are going,’ Rebecca said defensively. ‘I know Billie’s not always a great help. Where is she now, for instance?’
‘I don’t know, but, Becca, I’m fine on my own. It’s easier really.’ In fact, Drew had come in wondering if Emily needed a hand and Billie had instantly found an excuse to take him somewhere else. But there was no need to tell Rebecca that.
Rebecca seemed to sense something of the sort anyway. ‘I’ll have a word with her. It’s not good enough. Oh, and I’m staying for dinner, by the way. Checking up on your cooking,’ she added, ‘obviously. Alasdair will stay too. His Kate is with my two, who are being looked after by my neighbour, who is also their childminder a lot of the time.’
Emily peeked in the oven, to see if her mashed potatoes were browning on the pie. What Rebecca had just said seemed very complicated and nothing to do with her.
‘He’s a single parent,’ Rebecca went on, assuming Emily was interested.
‘Really? How difficult for him. And maybe sad?’
‘Fairly sad. He’s a widower.’
This was genuinely sad. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Presumably you’re telling me so I don’t ask questions about his wife?’
‘Mm. Yes, that’s right.’ Rebecca’s expression was bland. Emily was not fooled.
‘But actually you’re telling me to make sure I know he’s single?’
‘No!’ said Rebecca indignantly. ‘Of course not! Why would I do that?’
‘I really don’t know, Becca. Because you must know that I am absolutely not interested. Now, if you’re staying for supper you can help set the table. And is there some more white wine, somewhere?’
‘You know me, I’d never match make.’ She ignored the disbelieving snort that followed this statement and went on, ‘But I think it’s easier if people know all they need to know about others.’
‘Only if they need to know, surely? I’m really hoping that Maisie will be fine till the end of the week now, and that no other passengers will need medical assistance while I’m here.’
‘Well, I do too, but Alasdair quite often pops in to see the puffer – and James, of course. They are brothers, after all.’
Emily’s attention was caught now. ‘Yes, but they’re very different, aren’t they? James has no Scottish in his accent but Alasdair does have a faint burr.’
‘I know. I think Alasdair cultivated it a bit. It makes him more accessible to his patients. They were both brought up bilingual – you know: RP at home and the local accent when at school and out and about.’
‘That would explain it. Now, I’d better get going on the starter.’
‘No!’ said Rebecca. ‘You go and see how Maisie is – she could have dinner in her cabin if she wants to – I’ll find Billie. She can do the starter!’
The long table was fairly tightly packed. Rebecca insisted on Emily sitting down to eat although she’d have preferred to keep an eye on her pudding. Once she realised she couldn’t stay in the kitchen, she squashed in next to Maisie.
Maisie smiled at her. ‘There are disadvantages to living in Scotland, I’m sure, but I do love the long summer evenings.’
‘So what are the disadvantages?’ Emily asked, more to make conversation than because she wanted to know.
James overheard. ‘Midges. Undoubtedly it’s the midges. But if you slather yourself in a certain beauty product, it helps.’
‘You mean the midges drown in the beauty product?’ said Bob, the engineer.
‘What is the beauty product?’ asked Emily. ‘And why won’t you just tell me what it is?’
‘Because other anti-midge products are available,’ said James. ‘And we supply the stuff to everyone, so just help yourself.’
‘So,’ said Maisie, ‘with the midges sorted, there are no disadvantages to living in Scotland.’
Emily laughed. Maisie seemed on good form. No nursing or ‘keeping an eye’ was likely to be necessary.
At the end of the meal Emily was chased out of the kitchen by James and the passengers. Billie was presiding over the sink, and everyone else got the table cleared and the dishes wiped. James brought Emily a single malt whisky to enjoy while she got some fresh air and Rebecca came to join her, sipping ginger tea.
‘Well, I think your cooking passes muster,’ she said.
‘Billie was in charge of the fish pie,’ said Emily, who had set her glass down and was examining the pattern Maisie had given her.
‘But she didn’t do much of it, did she? Honestly, she was desperate to be head cook but how could I rely on her to actually do what’s required? If I’d taken on a student as galley slave, the passengers might not have got meals at all!’
‘We were students when we last cooked together and we were brilliant!’ She studied the pattern once more and then began casting on.
‘Students were different in those days,’ said Rebecca gloomily.
‘Oh come on! Some are great! And Billie will be fine.’ Emily felt she could deal with Billie better on her own, without Rebecca wading in, but didn’t say it. She understood that Rebecca was having separation anxiety about leaving her galley in the hands of others.
‘I dare say. You’re demon with those knitting needles, are you? You didn’t knit when I last knew you.’
‘I love it. It’s soothing, creative, and works as a sort of meditation. I also find it useful at work.’
‘What, knitting little garments for babies about to be born?’
‘Don’t mock! There is a pattern for a little hat that takes about as long as a first baby takes to come into the world.’
‘What, nine months? That sounds the sort of knitting I might manage.’
Emily shook her head. ‘No! A first labour! I’ve never actually made it because when I’m in charge I only knit very plain things so I can listen to my labouring mother. But I’d do it for someone else, like a shot.’
‘So what are you doing now?’ asked Rebecca, sipping her tea.
‘This is a test piece for Maisie. If it passes muster I’m going to finish her grandson’s slipover for her.’
‘That would be really kind. Do you want another malt?’
Emily shook her head. ‘No, I need to be able to concentrate. Although that was delicious, I can’t drink and do complicated knitting. This is a test!’
‘I’m glad you and Maisie get on. I love feisty old ladies, but Billie finds them difficult.’
‘She’s young and only has eyes for Drew at the minute.’ Emily counted stitches and then started knitting.
Rebecca sighed. ‘And he’s really not interested in her.’
‘Unrequited love, eh? Who’d have it?’ Emily’s fingers flew as she did a section of ribbing. It would be much slower when she started on the pattern.
‘Not you, obviously,’ said Rebecca. ‘But I think it’s better to have experienced real love, even if it doesn’t come to anything, than to just go through life without knowing that excitement.’
‘Isn’t it time you got back to your bairns?’ said Emily, not wanting to get into this conversation. She was aware that she and Rebecca had a bit of catching up to do – not every element of Emily’s life had been relayed to her by phone, text or email – but she didn’t want to do it now.
Rebecca looked at her watch. ‘Actually, you’re right. I better had.’
Alasdair obviously thought the same thing because he joined them and handed Emily a glass. ‘James said you need another one and, Rebecca, we must both go now.’
‘Yeah, we must. Although God knows it’s hard to get the kids into bed when it’s so light.’
Rebecca went below to collect her things but Alasdair waited with Emily. ‘So how’s your first day been?’
‘Busy. And I’ve just told Rebecca I don’t want any more whisky. I’ve starte
d on this bit of knitting for Maisie and I want to get it right.’
‘Well, finish it and then have a drink. It’s from Jura, which you can see if you just look over there.’
‘The one with two mountains?’
He nodded. ‘Technically known as the Paps.’
Emily regarded them for a few seconds. ‘I can see why now. I bet a man called them the Paps. They see breasts in everything, so I’m told.’
Chapter Four
A COUPLE OF days later, Emily showed Maisie her sample square of Fair Isle knitting. Maisie had just put her glasses on and Emily was a bit anxious about not making the grade. The rest of the passengers were making themselves ready for a hike over the heather with James. Emily had filled enough rolls and made enough sandwiches to mean the puffer had no bread left except the frozen loaf which was now defrosting and the potential of the dough proving under its cling film.
‘Well now, dear, let’s have a look at this,’ said Maisie. She picked up the square and peered at it and then at the front of the jersey that she herself had knitted.
‘I’m not going to be able to replicate your tension exactly,’ said Emily. ‘I’m not that skilled.’
Someone came into the saloon. Emily saw that it was a worried-looking Alasdair and he had a small girl with him. She had bright red hair in a ponytail and seemed to be about nine years old.
‘Hello, Maisie, Emily. This is my daughter Kate,’ he said.
‘Hello, Kate,’ said Emily, and then added, ‘Alasdair.’
‘Um, we have a bit of a problem,’ Alasdair explained. ‘I was going to leave Kate here while I visit a patient on a farm a little way away but I gather James is leading an expedition and Kate doesn’t want to go.’ He paused. ‘I could take her to the farm, of course, but she’d have to wait in the car and it might be for a while.’
‘Well, if she doesn’t mind joining in with the knitting …’ began Maisie.
‘Or the bread making,’ added Emily, ‘she’s welcome to stay with us. Although I don’t know if she’ll want to.’ Emily smiled, feeling sorry for the little girl, who had been put into a difficult position.
