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  ‘It’d be easier, if folk didn’t see.’

  ‘That’s what we’ll do, then. On Wednesday evening, I’ll be just beyond the gate, in my car.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you have a car – I was forgetting.’

  So few people she knew had cars that it was not something she ever expected to find. And impressive? Oh, yes!

  ‘Now I’d better let you go to your patient,’ he murmured, releasing her wrist. ‘Till Wednesday, Isla. Or, as we’re returning to work, perhaps I’d better say Nurse Scott.’

  ‘Till Wednesday, Doctor Revie.’

  Their eyes met again just for an instant, and then she was gone, hurrying to her patient, crusty old Colonel Ferguson, due for a cold rubbing. Luckily if he thought she was abstracted over something as she attended to him, he was far too much of a gentleman to mention it.

  Twenty-Eight

  Till Wednesday. Would the days ever pass? Isla, on duty as usual, couldn’t be sure whether she wanted them to or not; didn’t know precisely how she was feeling over her coming date with Dr Revie. Of course, she had to be flattered that he’d asked her, had singled her out from all his admirers, when she hadn’t been an admirer at all, until the episode of Damon’s concussion. Maybe he’d sensed that and been attracted to her because she was different? Was she different still?

  Immediate concerns were what to wear and who to tell. Not her mother – she’d only read too much into Isla’s going out with a doctor. Best say nothing, for the moment, anyhow. And the same went for Boyd who might possibly not approve. Not that it was any of his business, of course, but she didn’t feel like getting into an argument at this stage.

  Anyway, though he claimed not to be worried, he probably had enough to think about, wondering how Damon would take the news that Trina was giving him up. Even if he was not afraid of anything Damon might do, Boyd, like Isla herself, must be wishing to see the whole situation settled.

  As for telling any of her colleagues of her dinner date with Dr Revie, it would be better, as she had told him, if they didn’t see her leaving with him, meaning, in fact, that they should know nothing about it. Certainly, it was not her intention to tell any of them – what on earth would they say?

  She was soon to find out, from two of them at least, for when Wednesday evening finally came and she was in her room, wearing her best dark-green dress and jacket, and confident that Sheana and Ellie were down in the canteen, they came in and found her.

  ‘Hey, look at you, all dressed up!’ cried Sheana, her eyes alight with interest. ‘Where are you going, then, dark horse?’

  ‘Somewhere special, from the look of it,’ Ellie chimed in. ‘Haven’t seen you in that outfit before, have we?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I’m going out for dinner,’ Isla answered with a sinking heart. Pretending to be unconcerned, she put a comb and handkerchief into her evening bag, and took a last look at herself in the dressing table mirror. ‘See you later, girls.’

  ‘Oh, no, no, you’re not going to get away with that!’ Sheana said firmly. ‘Who’s the lucky man?’

  ‘Do we know him?’ asked Ellie.

  Looking away from the two faces so intent on hers, Isla knew she was going to have to tell them, ask them not to say anything, keep it under their hats …

  ‘Look,’ she said slowly, ‘it doesn’t mean anything, it’s nothing special, but just keep it to yourselves, eh?’

  ‘OK, OK, you can count on us,’ Sheana replied impatiently. ‘But you’ve got to tell us who it is, Isla.’

  ‘All right.’ Isla moved to the door. ‘It’s Doctor Revie.’

  There was a stunned silence. Although she kept her eyes down, Isla knew what she would have seen if she’d looked up – amazement, shock and disbelief written all over their faces. Why Isla? they would be wondering. Why Isla, when Dr Revie could have chosen anyone he liked? He must know beautiful girls from his own circle; he didn’t have to choose one of the nurses at Lorne’s, and he certainly didn’t have to choose Isla.

  Finally raising her eyes to her two friends, Isla read in theirs exactly what she’d expected to find, and even though what she saw was painful, she understood it. Yes, she was a pretty girl, but no prettier than others at the hydro, no prettier than Sheana and Ellie, as they might already be thinking. They were friends of hers, they liked her, but – well – there was no way they could conceal their feelings at her news.

  ‘I can see you’re surprised,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I am myself, but it’s just like I say: it doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Sheana’s eyes were bright. ‘Going out with the most eligible man around and it doesn’t mean anything? Maybe not to him, but it will to you, eh? Don’t tell us you’re not thrilled to bits!’

  ‘I don’t know what I am!’ Isla snapped, suddenly annoyed at their attitude, even if she did understand it.

  ‘All I know is I’m due out now and I’m going, and that’s that.’

  As they opened their mouths to speak, and even as Ellie put out a placating hand, Isla opened the door and went out, banging it behind her. Oh, what bad luck they’d come up early from their tea! Now she’d have to try to forget that they knew she was going out with Dr Revie, forget that they hadn’t spoiled everything, which wasn’t going to be easy …

  In fact, it turned out to be astonishingly easy. As soon as she saw Grant Revie standing beside his open-topped two-seater, dressed in a smart lightweight suit, his dark hair blowing in the evening breeze, his blue eyes on her, all thought of Sheana and Ellie went quite out of her head. And as he held the door for her and she slipped into her seat, she felt strangely, wonderfully at ease, wonderfully light-hearted. Whether or not this evening was going to mean anything to him, whether or not it was just a one-off and not to be explained, she decided she was going to enjoy it!

  Twenty-Nine

  ‘All right to have the top down?’ Grant asked, giving her a quick glance as they bowled away. ‘You’re not wearing a hat – might get your hair blown about.’

  ‘Oh, no, it’ll be fine, thanks.’

  ‘If you’re sure. You have such pretty hair, Isla.’

  ‘It’s red,’ she said flatly.

  ‘What’s wrong with red for a woman? I’ll admit, some think red-headed men are not so attractive. I expect that good-looking brother of yours is glad he’s blond.’

  ‘He doesn’t think about his looks.’

  ‘Sensible fellow.’ Grant smiled, then gave Isla another quick sidelong glance. ‘But let’s get back to you. You’re happy now?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Happy? Yes, why not?’

  ‘I thought you looked worried, as you came down the steps. As though you might be having second thoughts.’

  ‘Oh, no, that’s not true. Did I look worried?’ She laughed – convincingly, she hoped. ‘I’m not at all worried.’ Which was true now, anyway.

  ‘That’s all right, then.’ Turning his eyes back to the road, Grant seemed satisfied, and Isla, feeling free to look at him, thought how handsome he was in profile, his straight nose so elegant in a straight classical line from his brow, his chin and lips so finely moulded. Though not obviously alike, the symmetry of his looks reminded her of Boyd, and, as so often when she thought of him, she found herself wanting to smooth down her turned-up nose. Whatever did Grant Revie see in her? she wondered. But she decided not to dwell on it.

  ‘I’ve booked us in at Flair’s restaurant,’ Grant told her, as they soon covered the miles to Edinburgh. ‘It’s in Bruntsfield – don’t know if you know it?’

  ‘I’ve heard of it, never been there.’

  Or to many other Edinburgh restaurants, Isla added to herself.

  ‘Well, it’s nothing grand but they’ve a roof terrace where you can eat. Should be OK this evening.’

  ‘Sounds lovely.’

  ‘Yes, you can look out over the Bruntsfield Links. There’s a great old pub there – one of my favourites.’ Grant gave Isla a quick grin. ‘But I thought Flair’s would be more yo
ur style.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve got a style,’ she retorted, laughing, but he shook his head.

  ‘All women have style.’

  ‘Even redheads?’

  ‘Especially redheads.’

  Leaving the centre of the city, packed with evening traffic, Grant drove out to the Bruntsfield area. He seemed to spin his car just where he wanted it to go, easily impressing Isla, even though she knew nothing about either cars or driving. She did wonder, though, if he might be showing off. No, she decided, just demonstrating another example of his efficiency. How comforting to be out with a man who always knew what to do!

  ‘Here we are!’ he exclaimed, parking the roadster between two larger vehicles outside the modern, stone-built building that was Flair’s. It had glass entrance doors, open to the warm air, long sash windows, also open, and a small strip of paving where a few customers were having dinner.

  ‘Good job we booked,’ Grant whispered in Isla’s ear. ‘Looks as if they’re already overflowing!’

  But of course he’d booked, and of course they had a fine table on the roof terrace with excellent views over the old golf course, Bruntsfield Links, where Grant said his father had played at one time. He’d been a member of the Royal Burgess Golf Club in his Edinburgh days, but had moved to Glasgow to set up a medical practice even before his marriage to Grant’s mother.

  ‘So, you’re a Glasgow man,’ Isla commented as they ate their first course of shrimp salad.

  ‘Hope you’ll forgive me, if you’re an Edinburgh girl.’

  ‘I’m not from Edinburgh. I’m from Edgemuir – I thought you knew.’

  ‘Why, no, I only knew you lived in with other nurses at the hydro. And I supposed your brother must be in lodgings.’ Grant shook his head. ‘I certainly never realized you came from Edgemuir. Just shows how I need you to tell me about yourself.’ He raised a hand. ‘Please don’t say there’s nothing to tell!’

  ‘Well, there isn’t much.’

  ‘Let’s have some wine first, anyway. The waiter’s on his way.’

  ‘Oh, honestly, Grant, I’d rather not.’ Isla’s tone was earnest. ‘It really doesn’t mean anything to me and I’m not used to it.’

  ‘One glass? A few sips?’ Grant touched her hand lightly. ‘That’s all I’m having. I’ve got this funny idea no one else believes that alcohol affects driving, so I’m very careful. Unless I’m a pedestrian.’

  Smiling, she agreed to one glass and sipped a little as she told him about her father at the woollen mill, her mother at the tweed shop, and how she’d decided to be a nurse and trained and worked in Edinburgh, eventually moving to Lorne’s.

  ‘Why Lorne’s?’ asked Grant. ‘What made you chuck up a splendid hospital like Edinburgh Southern for the hydro?’

  ‘You don’t think Lorne’s is a splendid hospital?’

  ‘Oh, I do. I’m genuinely keen on all it stands for, but it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. What made it yours?’

  ‘Well, when Boyd wanted me to apply, I sort of got interested, and then I was interviewed by Doctor Lorne. He was the one who clinched it – he really made me want to work at the hydro.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Doctor Lorne.’ Grant sat back a little, and drank some of his wine as their salad plates were removed. ‘He could sell hydropathy to anyone, I sometimes think. Not that he’s interested in selling, of course.’

  ‘Are you?’ asked Isla.

  ‘Nurse Scott, I am just a dedicated doctor!’ Grant laughed. ‘But I’ll admit, I am interested in making money – put it that way.’

  Isla was silent for a little while until their main course of chicken arrived, when she told Grant it was his turn to talk about himself. All she knew was that he’d been brought up in Glasgow.

  ‘Well, I have two sisters, both married and away from Scotland. My parents are very active, with Dad running his practice and Mother running umpteen charities. I qualified in Glasgow, worked in a couple of places before going to the Highlands hydro where I got interested in the water cure. The rest, I think, you know.’

  ‘I know Doctor Lorne wanted you to replace Doctor Woodville,’ said Isla, ‘but why did you want to come when you already had a good job in a hydro?’

  ‘Remember what you said about Doctor Lorne? How he clinched it for you? He clinched it for me, too. I knew his reputation, I knew it would be good for me to work with him, and so it is.’ Grant gave Isla a long steady look. ‘I’m glad I made the move.’

  He leaned forward, his gaze holding hers.

  ‘You wouldn’t like to say you’re glad, too?’

  Her colour rose, as she tried to look away, only succeeding when she made great play of drinking a little more wine.

  ‘Why would I not say that?’ she asked at last, setting down the glass.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t exactly your favourite guy when I first arrived, was I? I couldn’t help noticing that you weren’t one of the welcoming party.’

  ‘Oh, that’s unfair! When did I make you feel unwelcome?’

  ‘I don’t say you went as far as that, but I definitely got the feeling that when other people seemed glad I’d come, you were … just polite.’

  For a few minutes, they continued eating, while Isla wondered what she could say. It was not easy to deny what he’d just said when it happened to be true. If she didn’t deny it, what would happen to their evening? Looked like being short and not very sweet, and however she had felt towards him once, she knew now she didn’t want that.

  ‘I’m … sorry if I gave you that impression,’ she said at last, laying down her knife and fork. ‘That was wrong.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ he answered easily. ‘I didn’t mind about it. I just thought you might be thinking I was a poor substitute for Bob Woodville.’

  ‘I was very sorry to see Doctor Woodville go, that’s true, but I wouldn’t have made you feel unwelcome because of that.’

  So, why had she made him feel unwelcome? Because she’d at first thought him rather too full of himself? She wasn’t, of course, going to tell him that.

  ‘Maybe not,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Maybe you just didn’t like me. No, no, don’t say any more, Isla. Actually, it wasn’t exactly true when I said I didn’t mind about your feelings towards me. I did mind, because I liked you and I wanted you to like me.’ He laughed. ‘Fell completely under your spell, as a matter of fact – it was your little nose that did it.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘Your turned-up nose, Isla. It makes you so attractive. Has no one told you that before?’

  She wanted to laugh – or maybe cry. After all the years of wanting to change her nose, here was a man – and a handsome man, too – saying he admired it? What could you ever be sure of in this world? Nothing, it seemed, but sometimes good things could happen and surprise you. Nice to think that.

  ‘You’re looking so happy now,’ he said softly, ‘but there’d already been a change in your feelings, hadn’t there? I knew at once when it happened. After Damon’s injury. The way you looked at me, talked to me – I began to think I could ask you out and you might say yes.’

  ‘I wanted to come,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I did.’

  ‘And I’m glad you did,’ he was beginning, when the waiter appeared to remove their plates and place the pudding menu before them, which meant their eyes had to go over all the creams and gateaux, the jellies and whips, when all they wanted was to be on their way.

  ‘Just want coffee?’ Grant asked.

  ‘No coffee, thanks.’

  ‘The bill, then, please,’ he told the waiter, and they both rose to go.

  Thirty

  The sky was still light when they drove out of the city, though a few violet streaks breaking the blue showed there would eventually be darkness. But not until after they’d arrived back at Edgemuir, Isla thought, rather wishing she could have run into the hydro under cover of night. She would have agreed with Boyd, had she heard his comment, that the white nights of the Scottish summer did not suit eve
ryone. Certainly not Isla, who was wondering now how Grant would want to say goodnight on this their first date, and as he drove fast and well down the country roads to Edgemuir, she found her hands on her bag trembling.

  ‘Won’t be long before we’re back,’ Grant remarked, giving her one of his snatched looks. ‘You’ll be in good time if you’ve a curfew. I’m afraid I should know, but don’t, whether they make you girls in the nurses’ home come back at a certain time.’

  ‘They’re not too bad, but they like you to be in by half past eleven at the latest – preferably eleven. Unless you’ve been to a dance. You can get special permission for that, but I don’t know anyone who goes dancing.’

  ‘We could go to one sometime, if you like. The hotels have good dinner dances.’

  ‘That would be nice.’

  Would he really take her to a dinner dance? What would she wear?

  ‘Anyway, tonight you won’t be late, so would you mind if we took a slight detour?’ Grant’s tone was very light, very casual. ‘Then we can be nicely alone for a bit – without me driving.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ she answered, equally casually, but her hands were trembling even more and her heart was thumping. This is it, was the thought going through her mind, this would be when he would kiss her. And how would she respond? She’d only kissed one or two young men – boys, really – and that was ages ago, before she’d started nursing. To think of them in comparison with Grant was impossible, though she’d been quite excited at the time, she remembered.

  ‘Where’s the detour?’ she asked, as though she were simply asking directions.

  ‘Just down this lane on the left – spotted it the other day.’

  Grant turned into the lane he pointed out, and in moments was stopping the car, turning off the engine and looking at Isla.

  ‘There’s no one around,’ he whispered, ‘just you and me. All you can hear is an owl who thinks it should be night-time.’