Edinburgh Excursion Page 14

  ‘I’m not surprised.’

  I cut off some strapping. ‘You’ll need a stitch or two in this, so I won’t stick this on too firmly, not to widen the gash when they take it off.’

  He twisted his head round to look up at me. ‘I’m sure I’ll heal without stitchery. I’ve always healed by first intention, and thanks to your good work I can’t believe I need trouble anyone else.’

  I walked round and sat on the chair-arm, much as I had sat on the end of Mr Richards’ bed. ‘I think it mightn’t be a bad idea to let an eye registrar take a look at that right eye. The hospital’s only a few blocks away. Why not take a taxi along there?’

  He blinked as if having trouble focusing. ‘Won’t it be enough if I do that if I’ve any more bother with it? I don’t care to bother any eye-department tonight. After the wind today half Edinburgh’ll have been in with grit in the eye.’

  ‘You didn’t have grit. You’d glass. And you should have antibiotic cover against possible sepsis. Who wants a corneal ulcer?’ I smiled as I would have to Mr Richards. ‘I honestly think you should.’

  He smiled back. We were buddies. In these circumstances we could not be anything else. ‘Then naturally I’ll take your advice. I’ll ring for a taxi and go along now. Satisfied?’

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ I got off the arm and washed my hands. He stood up and opened the study door. ‘You did say you saw that slate fall?’

  ‘Yes.’ I explained how.

  He said, ‘Some chips came through my windscreen above the strip, like machine-gun bullets. For the first ugly minute I thought I’d got it in both eyes. I don’t know what happened to the driving-mirror. It just vanished. To add to it all, my car had already let me down twice in traffic this evening. I was actually about to get out and look at the engine when that slate came down.’

  ‘As well you didn’t.’

  ‘Yes.’ He opened his front door. ‘Thank you very much for all you’ve done for me. I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time, but I have to say’ ‒ he hesitated ‒ ‘I do appreciate your kindness very much in view of ‒ er ‒ our last meeting.’

  He was right. He had to say that.

  ‘That’s all right. Take care of that eye.’

  He had closed his door and I was still on the stairs when my legs turned into sawdust and I began to sweat. I sat down, put my head between my knees, and after a bit the world stopped revolving. Without that delay I would have missed Sandra. She appeared on the landing, laden with parcels as I stood up.

  ‘I don’t believe it! I do not believe it! You haven’t been chasing Charlie again?’

  I unlocked our front door feeling too lousy for caution. ‘He got something in his eye, and I took it out.’

  ‘What a nice kind nursie to shift an itsy-bitsy bit of grit!’

  ‘Expect me to leave it in?’

  ‘Not you, dear! You never give up, do you? What’s the poor man have to do? Slap your face? You really should lay off him, Alix! As I’ve just been telling Catriona, one really can’t blame the Scots for thinking all English girls nymphomaniacs with girls like you around ‒’ Her bell was ringing below. ‘My date’s early! Take these!’ She rushed off.

  I put the parcels on the floor and had to rush to the bathroom. I was very sick. Most nurses had their weak spots, and eyes were mine. In consequence Matron had moved me after only two months in Cas. Eyes as a junior. I had done the full period in Acute Surgical Eyes, as by the fourth year Martha’s nurses were expected to have conquered their professional weak spots. If they had not authority no longer indulged them. In A.S.E. I had lost half a stone and drunk roughly a gallon of ammon. aromat. We had none in the flat, but there was some whisky someone had left behind at Catriona’s party.

  At first sight that sliver seemed to be sticking straight into his iris. As far as I had been able to tell with the ophthalmoscope, he had got away with it. But I wasn’t an eye specialist. It needed a specialized check. I did not have to be a specialist to know it had only needed one small jolt from bending his head, or the motion in any car or ambulance, to have that glass right in.

  I sipped some neat whisky. ‘There is much I can do to save the vision, young ladies, but once all vision in an eye has gone, as I cannot work bloody miracles, I cannot give it back. Would that I could! Indeed, yes.’

  ‘Lucky,’ I thought numbly, and remembered my thoughts when watching him from the window. And then I remembered those extraordinary seconds when I had to hang on to the sill. I had not seen the state of his eye then. It had not been the sight of blood. I got over that one by my second year.

  ‘Oh no,’ I thought, ‘no! I can’t go through it all again. Not yet. Not for a long, long time yet.’

  I finished the rest of my whisky at a gulp.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘I don’t mind eyes.’ Gemmie handed Catriona a whisky. ‘Takes you like Alix?’

  Catriona was pale green. ‘Anything to do with the face.’

  ‘Can’t say I’ve ever fancied E.N.T.S,’ mused Gemmie. ‘Folk’ll say casual, “My kid’s having his tonsils out.” They should take a look in an E.N.T. theatre on tonsil days. As much of a bloody shambles as in an accident unit after a multiple pile-up.’

  ‘Gemmie, take five! My stomach’s still very delicate.’ I helped myself to milk. ‘Let’s see that going-away hat.’

  Next morning old Mrs Hunter knocked her talcum powder onto the floor in her eagerness to produce the scrap of yellow silk. ‘A wee straw bonnet this shade? And where did the lassie purchase it? There? Och, the best in Princes Street! It’ll be a fine bonnet, no doubt of that!’ Carefully she replaced the silk in the envelope with the bit of nylon lace. ‘Is she a bonnie lassie? Aye, that’s grand! Is he a braw laddie? And what’s his work?’

  She was only momentarily disappointed on one count. ‘An Englishman? But a fitter?’ She brightened. ‘That’s a fine trade for a man. If there’s work to be had a good fitter can aye find it. The lassie shouldna go hungry, nor her bairns neither, with her man in that trade.’ She was strangely quiet for a little while. ‘My man didna have a trade, lassie.’

  Her husband had died when a German P.O.W. in World War II. ‘I didn’t know, Mrs Hunter.’

  She was not listening. She was thinking aloud, and her backward-looking eyes were glowing with an old bitterness. ‘I’d been put to service as a young lassie. I couldna return for the five bairns. For years, aye, years, my man was idle.’ She looked up at me then. ‘It’s a terrible sight for a wife to see her man with the wish to work and no work for him to put his hand to. First, he’d be away out each day with his head high ‒ then he’d be back and couldna look a body in the face. He tried. He couldna get a job. And he was a good man, ye ken. Maybe he liked his wee dram and his fags when he could get ’em, but that wasna often, I tell you! For years he’d stand about the house or out the street. Just standing. Mind, he wasna alone. Many a man was idle those times. Lassie, you could see their spirits drain away. It was terrible. Ye ken what I’d do?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘I’d pick a fight with him. I’d never the wish for that, but I’d shout at him ‒ terrible words I’d call him ‒ to get his temper up. Then I’d have an eye shut the rest of the week, but it was worth it. He’d remembered he was a man. But times his spirits were that low. The War was a mercy.’

  ‘It made jobs?’

  She held out her stiff arms for me to ease on her warmed bedjacket. ‘The War needed sodjers. He’d kept his health. He went for a sodjer. Lassie,’ she added softly, ‘you should’ve seen his face the day he was home for his first leaf. A fine uniform, cash in his pocket, the money regular for the bairns and maself. It wasna much, mind, but it was regular! I didna ken what the War was about, and I dinna ken now, but it seemed then from Providence. Maybe, though he didna return, it was that for him. For a wee whiles he lived, aye, and fought, and the fine letter I had said he died, like a man. The pneumonia. I was that grieved ‒ but I’d not have him back to stand about more. Idle
ness destroys a man. He couldna have borne that again, nor me for him.’ I replaced her glasses, and she saw my eyes clearly. ‘Never greet for the dead, lassie. Greet for the living. It’s them as needs the help. But no greetin’ for me, as, though I’d a hard time whiles back, I’ve it awful easy now! My bairns are that good to me, and my eldest laddie’s wife in this house, as ye’ll ken well, is like my own daughter! Maybe I canna get out, but I’m not so young as I was, and I like it fine having folks stop in and having a wee natter with my bath. Just tell me now, has the lassie settled what to wear on her hair?’

  We returned to Gemmie’s veil. As I was leaving I said, ‘Mrs Hunter, you’re a wonderful woman.’

  ‘You’re awful young, lassie! Away wi’ you now, or you’ll get the wrong edge of my tongue!’ Beaming, she closed her swollen fingers into a fist. ‘Cheerio!’

  It was the most perfect day I had yet known in Edinburgh. The clear sky was a Mediterranean blue, the brilliant sun transformed the grey buildings to a delicate pink, and, in the narrow back streets between the old lands, the air was as fresh, sweet, and faintly salty as at the water’s edge in Portobello. Mrs Hunter called it ‘Pert-a-bellie’.

  There was an old name back on my afternoon-list. Mr Richards had acute lumbago and was equally annoyed with himself and his doctor when I called. ‘I’m not ill, Nurse! It’s but my back. I’ll be out this bed in the morn!’

  ‘Your doctor probably asked me to call to make sure you’re not, Mr Richards. If you get up before your muscles have had a chance to relax you’ll only seize up again.’

  His married daughter from next door, Mary Cameron, was sitting with him. ‘Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you, Dad?’

  ‘You keep your lip for your man, my girl! I’ll take none of that in my house! Away back to your duties!’

  Mrs Cameron was unimpressed. She was a large-boned, fair girl with a pleasant face, and very pregnant. ‘What duties? With Ian on the night shift and sleeping and the three laddies not yet home from school, my house is awful quiet. What do you think I’ve in here, Nurse?’ She slapped herself with an energy that alarmed her father. ‘Say it’s a girl! My Ian says, if it’s another laddie Maternity can take it back. He’s an awful hankering for a wee girl this time.’

  ‘And what’s wrong with four laddies?’ demanded Mr Richards. ‘Did I not have the four myself, and then you two girls? Will you watch how you treat that bairn, Mary! If you’ve to hang about, away to your mother for a cup of tea whilst the Nurse attends to me. Easy, lass! Your time’s that close!’

  Mary Cameron had climbed over his bed rather than walk round to the door. ‘The fuss men make! My Ian’s the same, Nurse! You’d think this wee monster was my first. Do you know that great tall doctor up at Maternity?’

  ‘Dr Ross? Yes.’

  ‘I’m the pride of his life! I’m the pride of them all up at Maternity! Every one of my laddies was born on the right day, the right way, with no more than a few good twinges. I’ve never had a morn or night’s sickness, and last time I’d have walked from the labour ward had they let me. But if I’m not wanted, Dad’ ‒ she pulled a face at him ‒ ‘I can take a hint. I’ll away out back to tell my mother you’ve been sorting me!’

  Mr Richards stopped scowling when the door closed. ‘You’ve not seen her laddies, Nurse? They’re not so bad. I’ve the eight grandsons.’

  ‘No granddaughters?’ I shook out some tablets. ‘You’d like one?’

  It was not a question to be answered lightly. He swallowed the tablets, and I attended to his back and bed first. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Nurse, I’m sorry ‒’ Mrs Richards rushed in looking flustered. ‘Mary’s had but the one pain, and it’s two weeks before her time and she’s that regular ‒ but could you come?’

  I had seen dozens of babies delivered, and delivered my official number. I had never seen or, until it happened, believed it was possible to deliver any baby as easily as Mary Cameron’s fourth. In all she had four pains in five minutes. Yet the baby’s head was as round and unmarked as a Caesar baby’s. She was a smallish baby, but with no apparent signs of prematurity, and outwardly perfect. She had a splendid head of fuzzy black hair.

  Mary was only prevented from getting off the spare-room bed to make us all that cup of tea by the combined insistence of Mrs Richards and myself. ‘I feel grand! I’m not sick. I’ve but had a bairn.’ She grabbed her mother. ‘Away and wake Ian. Or I’ll go myself!’

  Ian Cameron was a stocky, dark-haired young man with Mr Richards’ shoulders, hands, and taciturnity. He sat on Mr Richards’ bed with the baby in his arms. I said truthfully, ‘She’s an exceptionally pretty baby, Mr Cameron.’

  ‘She’ll do.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Mr Richards.

  Mrs Richards had fetched the cot from next door. ‘May I put her down now?’

  Both men glared at me as if I had made an improper remark. I took the baby and all but slunk back to the spare room.

  I rang Miss Bruce from a call-box.

  ‘A nice healthy B.B.A., Miss Hurst? Good. Details?’

  I enjoyed that afternoon so much I forgot it was Thursday until I got back much later than the others and heard voices in our sitting-room. Now our exams were just under four weeks off every Thursday evening our whole set met in our flat to go through old test-papers.

  I grimaced at the sound of Sandra’s voice. Another crack from her, and I’d start throwing things. I could only hope Gemmie had somehow talked sense into her today about last evening. It was in that hope that I had told the girls directly they got in. I knew Gemmie would do what she could, but I also knew Sandra. It did not look much of a hope as I changed quickly out of uniform and into a sweater and slacks.

  When I joined the others Sandra was in the middle of a question. ‘… services provided by the local health authority?’

  Catriona made room for me on the sofa. ‘That comes under the National Health Service Act. Health centres, care of mothers and young children, including the unmarried mother and her child, midwifery ‒’

  ‘Alix, is it right you’d another baby?’ Gemmie looked up from the lining she was sewing into her going-away coat. ‘How’d you fix it, then? Over 90 per cent of all babies born in Edinburgh are born in hospital, and you’ve had two!’

  ‘Our Alix,’ said Sandra sweetly, ‘makes her own rules. Don’t you, Alix?’

  ‘As I was saying,’ said Catriona, ‘midwifery, health visiting, district nursing, vaccination, immunization, ambulance services, domestic-help services ‒ I’ve dried up! What else?’

  I spoke without thinking. ‘You’ve got the lot.’

  ‘She hasn’t, love.’ Gemmie stitched on as she talked. ‘Regional hospital boards and executive councils.’

  I made notes. ‘Remind me to do more homework.’

  ‘And who’s that supposed to kid?’ asked Sandra.

  ‘Obviously you, love!’ said Gemmie. ‘There’s masses more local authority services. School health service, children’s officers, public-health inspectors ‒’ The ringing telephone interrupted her. ‘Daft bastard’s forgotten it’s Thursday!’

  Catriona and I sat tight as Gemmie bundled her sewing into its protecting sheet. One of the Scottish girls from below asked, ‘How can you be sure it’s Wilf?’

  Catriona and I chorused, ‘It always is!’ Catriona added, ‘Next one, Sandra. Gemmie won’t be back for a good ten minutes.’

  Gemmie was back and looking dazed. She closed the door and looked at me. ‘It’s not Wilf. It’s Charlie for you, Alix. He says not to disturb you if you’re busy, but would I give you a message? He wants to know if it’ll be convenient for him to come down here and see you in about fifteen minutes, or later if that suits better.’ The room was as silent as if it were empty. ‘What’ll I tell him, or will you take it?’

  ‘What’s he want to see her for?’ asked Catriona sharply.

  ‘He didn’t say.’

  I said, ‘I’d better find out.’ I went out, closing the door after me and v
ery conscious of our hall’s peculiar acoustics. We had not heard Gemmie, as we had been talking. Then I heard Gemmie and Catriona talking together. I took a couple of breaths and raised the receiver. ‘Dr Linsey? Alix Hurst. You want to see me?’

  ‘If I may? There is a matter I would like to discuss with you, but not over the ’phone, as it is rather personal.’

  I frowned at the wall. Sandra and others? With this man, God alone knew. I could say no. I said, ‘Fifteen minutes time?’

  ‘If that’s convenient?’

  ‘Hold on, please.’ I put my head round the sitting-room door. ‘Anyone object to a short break?’ Everyone but Sandra shook their heads. I shut the door and went back to the ’phone. That’ll be all right. How’s that right eye?’

  ‘Much better, thanks. I’ll see you shortly. And thank you.’

  I returned to the girls.

  ‘Right, then! Teach-in’s off till after supper. Everybody out!’ Gemmie removed her dressmaking to her bedroom and rushed back. ‘Get moving, Sandra! We’ve to get this room fit for company.’

  ‘I’m not moving!’ Sandra sat back in her armchair. ‘Charlie calling on Alix I must see!’

  ‘Then away with you to our kitchen and see it through the cracks round our kitchen door. They’re big enough! Away with your books as well! Gem and I’ll be with you directly we’ve this room straight! Or else get back to your own flat. This, I would remind you,’ added Catriona awe-fully, ‘is our flat!’ From her manner, any further objection and she’d raise the clans. Sandra was sufficiently impressed to start moving. The other two loaded themselves with test-papers and books and vanished to our kitchen.