Nothing Ventured Page 7

  ‘Is she? I didn’t notice her particularly. Which one was she?’

  ‘Why, Pat, of course! Surely you knew that?’ Trina was looking round the crowded cinema, fanning herself with her handkerchief, while Boyd’s intent gaze stayed on her face.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked at last, ‘You seem in a mood.’

  ‘Not really. It’s just that you seem more interested in the picture than you are in me.’

  ‘We did come to see the picture, eh?’

  ‘You know I came to be with you. But if you’d rather see a picture, or be with Damon Duthie, maybe you’d better say so.’

  ‘Boyd, I do want to be with you. But I’m not going to say I don’t want to see Damon as well. Why should I have to choose?’

  Boyd, his heart so heavy it seemed to weigh down his chest, shook his head. ‘I thought you might have wanted to,’ he said in a low voice. ‘And chosen me.’

  ‘We’ve only just met, Boyd.’

  ‘Same with you and Damon.’

  ‘Yes, so let’s just say I’ll see you both. No more arguments. The lights are going down; it’s time for the second picture.’

  ‘You want to see it?’ he groaned.

  ‘Oh, yes, I always watch everything.’

  As he stared at the credits coming up for whatever the second picture was, he still felt pain around his heart, until Trina slipped her hand into his and suddenly there was hope again; he knew he’d take whatever she offered, even if it meant sharing her with Damon Duthie. Not to do that would mean to lose her altogether, and the way he felt, that was not something he could face.

  ‘That’s the way it’s going to be,’ he told Isla next day. ‘Trina’s seeing both of us.’

  ‘You think Damon will put up with that?’

  ‘He’ll have to, if he wants to keep seeing Trina.’

  ‘Seems to me it will lead to trouble. Damon will never accept sharing her with you. How could he? And how can you accept that she’ll be seeing him as well as you?’

  ‘It’s all I’ve got, Isla. I have to take it. He’ll take it, too. As I say, he’ll have to.

  ‘I wonder.’ Isla’s worried eyes searched Boyd’s face. ‘I see storm clouds ahead.’

  ‘I can manage whatever he comes up with,’ Boyd said firmly. ‘And I’m sure, in the end, Trina will choose me. I know it, Isla, I feel it.’

  ‘Well, just don’t tell Ma about this,’ she warned. ‘And watch your step. Doctor Lorne won’t want any trouble.’

  ‘There’ll be no trouble,’ said Boyd.

  Nineteen

  Although Mark Kinnaird had complained to Isla more than once that he was very disappointed about not having Bob, as he called Dr Woodville, to superintend his care much longer, the news was that his treatment did seem to be doing some good.

  ‘I believe it’s the sauna and the steam baths,’ he told Isla, while she had been giving him his moist wrapping treatment. ‘It’s just as Bob said: the steam from them acts in the same way as my kettle at home, but it’s much more efficient and far-reaching, and lasts longer, too. I must admit, though, I was a bit worried about the sauna at first.’

  ‘You would be when it’s something you’re not familiar with,’ Isla commented, as she took up a blanket to cover him. ‘But Larry Telford’s very experienced; he knows just what to do.’

  ‘Of course, but the first time when I had to strip down and sit on the bench in the cubicle, I felt – I don’t know – very vulnerable, and when this fellow came in and started throwing water at the stove and on the floor – well, I’d no idea what was coming next.’

  ‘He has to create the steam somehow,’ Isla said, laughing. ‘And you’ve just said how much better it’s made you feel.’

  ‘That’s true, and now, of course, I’m only too grateful to Larry and the hydro and everyone. The Finns, too, for inventing the sauna. I was telling my father all about it when he came to visit me.’ Mark grinned. ‘He’s all for me trying anything that’ll help, but still has his suspicions of the water cure. Very conventional man, my father.’

  Isla smiled. Having met Mr Kinnaird, she knew Mark was right about him, but, like his son, he was courteous and pleasant, even if not quite as handsome.

  ‘People usually come round to it in the end. The main thing is that we break the cycle of your symptoms, you see, and we’re hoping that you’ll find we have. Now, I’ll leave you for an hour or so.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said earnestly, his dark eyes resting on her with clear sincerity. ‘You’re always so kind, Nurse Scott.’

  ‘It’s just my job,’ she told him.

  He shook his head. ‘I think you know you do more than your job.’

  ‘Just rest, Mr Kinnaird. I’ll see you soon.’

  At the door, she looked back, glad to see that those fine eyes of his were closing, and relieved that they’d earlier been free of the strange blankness she had sometimes seen in them. Once or twice, when she’d come to check on him in his room, she’d found him sitting in his chair, his eyes on the hills, yet not, she guessed, seeing them. Seeing instead – what? Something in himself that stopped him from enjoying the moment? He’d been depressed, of course, facing a future in which he thought he’d never get better, but now that he was feeling better, could that be the end of the dark times for him?

  As an experienced nurse, she knew that it was still too early to say. There could be setbacks – often were – and he might be disappointed, but at least there had been some progress, and she would cling on to that, realizing Mark’s progress meant a lot to her. Although it was not her way to have ‘special’ patients, she had to admit he was becoming rather an exception.

  Not because she was attracted to him, or believed that he was attracted to her, but just feeling … a sort of affinity with him that she couldn’t remember having had for a patient before. And he felt it, too – she knew he did – and without going any further into it, as she moved on to other duties, she was happy about it.

  ‘There you are, Miss Scott!’ She heard someone calling and looked round to see Miss Elrick hurrying towards her, a sheet of paper in her hand.

  ‘I thought I’d just catch you,’ she said breathlessly. ‘So difficult with all you nurses being so busy.’

  ‘How can I help?’ asked Isla.

  ‘Well, I’ve been asked by Doctor Lorne to collect for Doctor Woodville’s leaving present and I’m wondering if I could put you down for something? Say, half a crown?’

  Did Miss Elrick hesitate a moment over Dr Woodville’s name? Isla thought perhaps she did, but then was annoyed with herself, for the thought had probably only come because of what Sheana had said.

  ‘Oh, yes, I want to contribute!’ she cried eagerly. ‘Half a crown would be fine, though I haven’t any money on me now.’

  ‘That’s all right; you can give it to me later. I’m just taking names at the moment.’

  As Miss Elrick pencilled in Isla’s contribution, she smiled and said softly, ‘Doctor Lorne’s thinking a clock would be nice. He knows a very good Edinburgh shop and is sure we’ll have enough money to get something quite handsome. I’m sure, too. Doctor Woodville is so popular, isn’t he?’

  ‘Everyone likes him,’ Isla agreed. ‘He’ll be hard to follow.’

  ‘The new doctor?’ Miss Elrick laughed. ‘He doesn’t stand a chance!’

  Oh, Lord, it looked as if Sheana was right about her, after all. Watching the doctor’s secretary moving quickly away, her high heels clicking on the polished floor, Isla found herself suddenly feeling sorry for her. Why should that be? For all she knew, there might already be an understanding between Joan Elrick and Dr Woodville. They might be going to make some sort of declaration at the doctor’s leaving ceremony, mightn’t they? Just hope they do, was Isla’s prayer, just hope they do. Observing Boyd’s rocky path towards true love was more than enough for her, and certainly did not inspire her to want some sort of love affair for herself.

  Twenty

  True love. Boyd himself did not c
are to question whether or not he would ever get such a thing from Trina. It was what he wanted; there was no way he could settle for doing without it, and therefore he wouldn’t let himself even imagine it wouldn’t come. Yet on their second evening out, if he’d had the courage to be honest, he would have had to admit that Trina didn’t yet feel as he did. She would, though, she would: he had to believe it. When they’d spent more time together, everything would be different. He clung on to that.

  For their second meeting, he had taken her for a meal at an Edinburgh fish restaurant – nothing grand, and for that reason popular with younger people, something that found approval with Trina, who was looking so stunning in a short pink dress and matching stole that Boyd could not tear his eyes from her.

  ‘Good choice, Boyd,’ she commented. ‘Just my sort of place.’

  ‘Glad you like it,’ he murmured, hoping he was off to a good start.

  ‘In fact, I think you know what to do to please folk, don’t you? Or should I say, please girls? I bet you’ve been out with plenty, eh?’

  He hesitated as the waiter came to take their orders, only saying, when he’d gone, that there’d been no more than a couple of girls in his life so far.

  ‘Nurses, were they? I bet they were nurses.’

  ‘All right, they were.’

  ‘Oh, Boyd, you should never go out with nurses! They only care about their patients and the doctors.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Well, with patients, they like to put on their Florence Nightingale act, have everyone so grateful, saying they’re so kind and such.’

  ‘My sister’s not like that!’

  ‘Must be the exception.’

  Trina drank a little water and dabbed at her deeply rouged lips as Boyd continued to stare at her in fascination.

  ‘So, what about the doctors?’ he asked, after a moment.

  ‘Oh, of course, every nurse secretly wants to marry a doctor, and why not? They’ve got everything, eh? Money and position and folk thinking they’re gods. I wouldn’t mind marrying a doctor myself!’

  His heart missing a beat, Boyd finally looked away.

  ‘I bet you could, if you wanted to,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Bit late for Doctor Woodville, but there’s a new doctor coming – maybe he’ll do?’

  ‘Why, Boyd, I think you’re jealous!’ Trina laughed. ‘Oh, my, you don’t need to be. Not over doctors, anyway. Did you ever hear of a doctor marrying a waitress? But here comes our fish! That’s good – I’m starving.’

  ‘What did you mean?’ Boyd asked, after they’d begun to eat. ‘What did you mean when you said “Not over doctors, anyway”? Were you saying I should be jealous of someone else? Damon Duthie, for instance?’

  ‘Well, he’s there, eh? In my life. I can’t deny it.’

  ‘He’s only in your life the same as I am, Trina. Why should I be jealous, when he sees you no more than I do?’

  Trina shrugged and loosened her stole, revealing her fine shoulders, which drew attention from numerous male eyes in the restaurant and caused Boyd to rest his gaze on them as though hypnotized.

  ‘The thing is,’ she said, continuing to eat, ‘I’m just not sure what he’ll do when he finds out about that.’

  ‘When he finds out?’

  A tightness of anxiety was beginning to grip Boyd as he took in what she was saying. He laid down his knife and fork and leaned towards her.

  ‘You haven’t told him yet, Trina? You haven’t said you were seeing me as well as him?’

  ‘Not yet. But I’ve only been out with you once. Well, twice, counting tonight.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m certainly going to tell him, but what’s he going to do about it, anyway? It’s not as if I’m engaged to him, or anything. Plenty of girls have more than one – you know – admirer.’

  ‘Oh, Trina.’ Boyd ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. ‘I did think it was odd he hadn’t come tearing round to face me, but I thought he knew. I thought he’d accepted he couldn’t see you any other way.’

  ‘I expect he will come to see you,’ she said casually, as she finished eating and placed her knife and fork together. ‘Just tell him what to do, eh? Listen, I think the waiter’s coming with the menus again. Are we going to have a sweet?’

  When they left the restaurant some time later, it was already late evening, yet the skies were as clear as day, almost seeming as though they would never darken.

  ‘I hate these white nights you get in the summer,’ Boyd muttered, scowling, as he and Trina sat together in the bus for Edgemuir. ‘You don’t know where you are with them.’

  ‘You just don’t want to be seen kissing,’ she whispered in his ear, which sent a flush to his cheekbones. At the look on his face, she drew back, smiling. ‘Don’t say you weren’t thinking of it, Boyd!’

  ‘I … well, I was maybe hoping.’

  ‘Come on, you didn’t ask me out just to have a fish supper with me, eh?’

  ‘I asked you out because I wanted to be with you, Trina.’ He glanced round at the other passengers and lowered his voice. ‘If there’ll be kisses as well, they’ll be a bonus.’

  ‘Have to watch out for you-know-who. He was on duty this evening, but afterwards he said he was going to the pub with Clive. Better not see us together, eh? Not till I’ve told him about you.’

  Boyd was looking stricken. ‘For God’s sake, Trina, this isn’t a game we’re playing! You’ve got to get it sorted out. We can’t go on like this!’

  ‘Ssh, folk are listening,’ she told him. ‘Let’s talk later.’

  They did not speak again until they’d left the bus and were walking up the main street of Edgemuir towards the hydro, where the late-evening light was shining on the windows and there still seemed no hope of darkness.

  ‘Don’t be cross,’ Trina said lightly. ‘Damon probably won’t be back yet; we needn’t worry.’

  ‘But you will tell him?’

  ‘I said so, eh?’

  Trina paused at the entrance to an alleyway leading from the street, where shadows had gathered.

  ‘Look, it’s nearly dark there, Boyd, and there’s no one around. Come on, it’s our only chance.’

  Before he’d had time to speak, she’d pulled him with her into the alleyway and was pressing her lips to his in the sort of kiss he’d dreamed about but had never thought would happen. When it was over and she’d stepped back, perhaps trying to see its effect, he caught her to him and began kissing her himself, only letting her go when she’d given him a little push and said they must be away. But in the semi-darkness of the alleyway, he could see her eyes shining and guessed she’d enjoyed their little kissing session – maybe not in the same way that he had, for her first kiss had come out of the blue – but in her own way, yes, as much. Which meant she must surely want to see him again.

  ‘I’m not supposed to be too late back,’ she told him, as they returned to the main street. ‘Doctor Lorne says while we’re part of his live-in staff, he feels responsible for us. A piece of nonsense, of course, but there it is. I’ve got to go.’

  ‘You share a room with Daisy and Junie?’

  ‘Yes, worse luck. They’re nice lassies, though Junie’s always moaning, but I’d love to be on my own. You’re so lucky, going to your own home.’

  ‘With my folks knowing just when I come in?’

  Trina laughed. ‘Maybe not. But here we are, Boyd. I’ll sneak in the side door and up the back stairs.’ She put her hand in his and pressed it. ‘Grand night out, eh? Thanks ever so much.’

  ‘And we’ll go out again?’

  ‘Oh, sure. Yes, I’ll see you again.’

  Letting her hand go, he looked into her lovely eyes. ‘And you’ll speak to Damon?’

  ‘Oh, Boyd, don’t keep on! I’ve said I will, so leave it to me.’

  ‘Sorry. Yes, I know you’ll take care of it. Goodnight, then, Trina. We’ll meet to fix up another evening?’

  ‘Goodnight, Boyd,’ she said firmly and vanished though
the side door – far away from him, he felt already, and there was nothing he could do. After a moment, he turned and began his short walk home, suddenly remembering that he’d forgotten to look out for Damon. Well, he was nowhere around, that was for sure, or he’d have made himself felt, and though Boyd was confident he could deal with Damon whatever he did, he was relieved there was to be no showdown that night. Now it was up to Trina to sort the situation out; all Boyd could do was hope that she would.

  Twenty-One

  The money had been collected, the clock had been bought, and the chef had made two tremendous cakes for the farewell tea party for Dr Woodville. All that had to happen now was for the new doctor to arrive and spend a day or so being shown around to learn something of his new duties, and then it would be time for the actual farewell.

  ‘Oh, I can’t bear to think about it,’ Sheana wailed to Isla, as they and other nurses were drinking tea at break time. ‘It’ll be the end of an era, eh?’

  ‘We’ve still got Doctor Lorne,’ Isla replied. ‘And he’s the main one here.’

  ‘Yes, and a lovely man, but he’s always got so much on; it’s the doctor who works in the treatment rooms who matters to us. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Isla agreed sadly. ‘And that’s why we’ll feel the change most. The new man can’t be the same.’

  ‘Watch out,’ murmured Ellie, ‘here comes Sister Francis, all of a flutter. What’s happening?’

  What was happening was that a bevy of doctors was being piloted into the nurses’ centre by the excited Sister Francis – Dr Lorne, Dr Woodville and a dark-haired young man in a grey suit who could only be Dr Revie. The nurses put down their cups and stared.

  ‘Oh, my,’ whispered Sheana, ‘he’s arrived!’

  ‘Everyone, gather round!’ Sister Francis was calling. ‘Doctor Lorne is here and wants to speak to you!’

  ‘To introduce you to our new member of staff, Doctor Revie,’ Dr Lorne said genially, as the dark-haired young man bowed his head politely, and Dr Woodville looked on, with a broad smile, his hair on end as usual.