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Authors: The Handkerchief Tree

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BOOK: Anne Douglas
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It occurred to her with sudden jerky clarity that she should, after all, have brought Master Bun to the Lodge as Mrs Hope had advised. She was so used to having him close she might have gone to sleep much more quickly if he’d been with her. Perhaps she’d ask Mrs Hope in her letter to bring him in when she was allowed to visit? She’d have to hide him from Julia, of course, but she could do that . . .

Suddenly, all thoughts stopped and she was asleep, just a girl amongst others in a dormitory, far away from the world until the rising bell rang in the morning, calling them to another day.

Ten

Time. Everyone said it had to pass, and pass it did: sometimes slowly, sometimes fast, but never standing still. Even so, Shona could hardly believe that within a few short weeks she would be fifteen. Fifteen! A momentous birthday, which meant that once again her life would change. How, she didn’t as yet know, but sitting beneath the Handkerchief Tree on a fine Saturday afternoon in May, 1923, she knew she’d soon find out.

Shona had been at Edina Lodge for four years. Four years during which she had moved from a child of eleven, small and anxious, to a girl of almost fifteen, confident and unafraid, her auburn plait replaced by a bob, her pretty face alert to the world around her. And she was tall. Yes, tall, for almost overnight she had seemed to grow like Jack’s beanstalk and, at five foot seven, found it just as wonderful. That she, ‘little’ Shona, should be almost as tall as Archie Smith had been something for her and Cassie to laugh about, for Cassie was tall, too, and both were no longer teased but deeply admired by Archie and his friends. Not that Shona and Cassie were interested in them; they had other things to think about. One was the future.

If only they could persuade the authorities to help them find some sort of work that really suited, Shona sighed, something that might lead somewhere! But Miss MacLaren had never been hopeful that such a thing would be possible, and Miss Lucas, who had always been willing to listen when she visited the Lodge, was equally sure there could be no change.

Change had come to her, though, and Miss MacLaren, too, for both had forsaken their jobs to be married: Miss Lucas to a schoolmaster and Miss MacLaren to a businessman. Both were seen no more at Edina Lodge. For a while, Shona had felt quite bereft, for there could be no replacement for Miss Lucas and Miss Bryce’s new assistant seemed still so different from Miss MacLaren. Nothing to be done about the changes, of course, except to put up with them.

At least, though, the gardens of Edina Lodge had not changed. They were still as beautiful as when Shona had first seen them, looking their best as in that other May, with blossom trees scenting the air, leaves bright with new green buds unfurling almost under her very eyes. And then there was the Handkerchief Tree, covered in its strange, fascinating flowers, holding Shona in thrall, as it always could, being her favourite tree. That was just the same, too.

She lay back against the bench, putting her hands to her throat for it was so sore, but Matron had said she might wait in the fresh air until someone called her to see the doctor. Not the ‘old’ Dr Lindsay, who was ill at present, but his son, Mark, now qualified, a part of the practice and standing in for his father as the orphanage doctor. Shona, in spite of her painful throat, was smiling to herself as she waited to be called. At present, Dr Mark was busy checking on other patients with similar symptoms, but soon would see her. And she would see him.

Still smiling, she sat up to wave to Cassie, coming through the garden towards her.

‘Come to fetch me?’ she croaked.

‘Me? No.’

Cassie, blooming in her fifteenth year like one of the blossoming trees, sat down next to Shona and ran her hand through her damp blonde hair.

‘So warm, eh? No, I just thought I’d come and see how you were before I go to dressmaking.’

‘Thought you might have called me for the doctor.’

‘Can’t wait to see him, eh?’ Cassie laughed.

‘Course not! I just want something for my throat.’

‘Come on, everybody wants to see young Doctor Mark, Shona. Might as well admit it.’

‘As a matter of fact, I think his dad is very nice.’

‘Aye, but he’s no’ well, is he? Lucky he’s got his son to help out.’ Cassie laughed. ‘So all the girls have fallen for him. Trust me no’ to get the tonsillitis – I won’t be seeing him.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll best away to my class.’

‘No, wait a minute, Cassie. I was thinking – if you’re doing well at the sewing, maybe you could do that for a living? I mean, get apprenticed to a dressmaker, have a proper job. You don’t have to go into service.’

Cassie shook her head. ‘I’d have nowhere to live, Shona. Apprentices get paid brass farthings – how could I pay rent anywhere? I’d be better off in service.’

‘No, no, Cassie, you wouldn’t! It’s no life at all, and you’re worth something better than that. We both are.’

‘Who says so? We never stayed on at school; we never got the Leaving Certificate. That’s what employers look for.’

Shona’s brow darkened. Though grateful for all that the orphanage had done for her, she just wished that it could have done more and let her and those bright enough stay on at school to take the Leaving Certificate, the passport to better jobs. Too late now to change the system. She must just do what she could to find something better than domestic service for herself.

‘Tell you somebody who’s doing pretty well since she left here,’ Cassie said, still lingering. ‘Julia Hammond! She’s already been promoted to parlour maid at her place in Heriot Row because she’s got just the right manner for answering the door. That’s what she told me, anyway, when I met her in Princes Street that day we had the outing. Would you credit it?’

‘No,’ Shona answered shortly, putting her hands to her throat again. ‘If Julia Hammond has the right manner for anything, it’d surprise me. Surely you can do better than that, Cassie?’

‘What I’d like,’ Cassie said slowly, ‘is to be part of a family. I’d like to try for work in a big house where there’s a lot o’ staff, and I could be part of it. Everybody’ll know who I am and I’ll have my special place.’ For a moment, she held Shona’s gaze. ‘That’s all that’s wrong with the Lodge, eh? Nobody thinks you’re special?’

‘That’s right,’ Shona agreed, after a pause. ‘They take care of you here, but you’re no’ special to them like you would be to your folks.’

But would working as a maid in a large household be any different? Shona didn’t think so, though she said nothing to Cassie, who was already on her way.

‘Here’s someone come to fetch you, Shona!’ she suddenly called back. And with an astonished look, Shona saw that it was Dr Mark himself.

Eleven

There he was, then, the idol of all the lassies, wearing a grey suit and white shirt, his medical bag in his hand, his smile as friendly as always. In the last year or so since he’d been standing in for his father, Shona had seen him around the Lodge, of course, and he’d always given her that same smile. But she’d never been ill and they had only exchanged a few words since their first meeting.

On those occasions, he’d ask her how she was, if everything was going well for her? And she’d answer, yes, it was, everything was fine. Only once had he asked if she remembered how he’d told her that as time passed things would get easier? Of course she remembered, she’d told him. And had he been right? Oh, yes, he’d been right!

No doubt about that. With the passing of each day, as he had forecast, things had certainly become easier. She had settled at the Lodge and become part of its life, though not forgetting the precious memories of the life she had left behind. She’d made friends, done well in her duties and at school, and had been allowed to have visits from Mrs Hope and Kitty, who’d brought Master Bun, as requested and, joy of joy, had been able to visit them in the village.

She’d even faced her parents’ house again in Baxter Row, but had drawn the line at meeting the new tenants. At least they didn’t have her parents’ furniture – all her mother had been able to leave her – for that had been sold for thirty pounds, no less, which was now in her post office savings account. To her, it was a fortune, though she knew well enough that she would probably need every penny when she was alone in the outside world.

Still, she wasn’t there yet. For now, she was facing Dr Mark, wondering why he’d come himself to collect her, and perhaps that showed in her face, for he said easily, ‘Soon as I was told my next patient was you and you were waiting in the garden, I said I’d take a breath of air and find you myself.’ Seating himself next to her on the bench, he laughed a little. ‘Because I knew where you’d be, of course.’

‘Under the Handkerchief Tree,’ she answered, her voice sounding husky even to herself. ‘It’s very kind of you to come for me.’

‘Not at all.’ He grew serious as he put cool fingers against her throat. ‘And there are no prizes for me to see that you’ve got the same tonsillitis I’ve been seeing all morning. Come on, let’s get you back to Matron and I’ll examine your throat.’

As they both stood up, however, he shook his head in surprise. ‘My word, you’ve grown, Shona! You’re not so far down from me as you used to be, are you? And have you done something with your hair? I thought you had a plait?’

‘That was ages ago, Doctor Mark! Miss Bryce wanted all the girls to have their hair cut because she likes the new style; she thinks it’s more hygienic.’

‘Probably right, too, but takes a bit of getting used to, I expect.’ As they began to walk back to the house, he added quickly, ‘Suits you, though.’

Blushing, she made no reply, and after a moment, he asked what was coming next for her. ‘Am I right in thinking that you might be leaving Edina Lodge soon?’

‘At the end of the summer term.’

‘Do you have any plans for what you’ll do?’

‘No’ yet. All of us leavers have to see Miss Bryce and she’ll fix us up with somewhere to go.’ Shona’s voice was not only hoarse now, but low as she brought out the dreaded words. ‘Domestic service, that’ll be. And I’m no’ keen.’

‘I should think not! You’re a bright girl, Shona, you could find something better.’

‘I want to.’

‘You must tell Miss Bryce. I’m sure she’ll have good advice.’

Shona’s smile was wry, but they had reached the house and she said no more. There was no point, anyway, in telling Doctor Mark that she already knew what Miss Bryce’s advice would be. ‘Find a good situation, my dear, and you’ll have work, three meals a day and a roof over your head.’ What more could an orphan want?

In Matron’s room, with the matron herself and her assistant nurse present, there could of course be no further opportunity for conversation with Dr Mark anyway, and Shona just had to stand patiently as he examined her throat and felt the glands of her neck. ‘Not too bad,’ he declared. ‘There’s no suppuration – that’s a nasty discharge – which means you should recover fairly soon. I’m going to give you a linctus which will soothe the discomfort, and some tablets to relieve your temperature, as that’s slightly up. Also, I’d like you to stay in the dormitory over the weekend. Rest is very important, isn’t that right, Matron?’

‘It is indeed, Doctor.’

‘And either Matron or Nurse will superintend your taking the tablets, Shona, so no need to worry about that.’

‘Oh, certainly not, we never let you young people take tablets yourselves.’ Matron smiled at Shona. ‘But let’s give you one now, eh? Nurse, could you fetch a glass of water, please?’

‘Well done!’ Dr Mark cried when Shona bravely gulped down the tablet. ‘Not easy for you, swallowing at the moment, I know.’

Her spirits now were sinking fast. It was time for her to go, time for someone else to be called in to see Dr Mark. Better go, then. Say goodbye. Surely, though, she would see him again?

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ she murmured. ‘And thank you, Matron. When do I take the linctus?’

‘Three times a day after meals,’ said Matron. ‘See, I have it here, it’s on the label, but Nurse will bring it to you in the dormitory with your tablet. Doctor, shall we call your next patient?’

‘Thank you, Matron.’ Mark’s vivid blue gaze, however, had moved to Shona at the door, and he suddenly strode across to join her.

‘Just in case I don’t see you again, Shona, I want to wish you the best of luck for the future. Stick to your guns, aim for what you want and you’ll do well.’

‘Goodbye, Doctor Mark,’ she managed to say calmly as they shook hands. ‘I hope your dad will be better soon.’

‘Nice of you to think of him, but don’t worry, I’ll see that he is.’

‘Shona, Nurse will be along soon to see you in your dormitory,’ Matron called when Mark had left the door. ‘And if Wilfred Hunter’s out there, please tell him to come in now.’

‘You can go in now,’ Shona obediently told the scared-looking boy waiting in the corridor, and smiled as he scuttled in. The last person he wanted to see was the doctor. How unlike herself!

In the dormitory, she felt overcome by sudden weakness, as though her legs were made of wool, and sank down on her bed, lying back against her pillow. There were three other throat patients already in bed, two of whom appeared to be sleeping, while the third, another fourteen-year-old, named Mavis Maxwell, was reading
Jane Eyre.

‘Hey, Shona,’ she called hoarsely, ‘you’ll get wrong, lying on your bed with your shoes on!’

‘So who’s going to tell anyone?’

‘I’m just saying.’

‘Well, don’t say. Just read your book.’

‘Think I’ll leave it for now. I liked it when Jane was in that Lowood school and I kept thinking, oh, glad that’s no’ me, but now she’s got mixed up with this awful Mr Rochester, I’m no’ interested. I mean, what does she see in him?’

Not feeling up to a discussion, Shona closed her eyes but then the thought came – why were folk attracted to other folk? Why were all the girls attracted to Dr Mark? Because he was a nice-looking young man and they didn’t see many of them, but if there were other nice-looking young men around, perhaps Dr Mark’s charm would fade? Not for her. Right from that first day by the Handkerchief Tree, she’d felt a special bond with him, felt that he himself was special to her, and that she might even be special to him.

BOOK: Anne Douglas
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