Beattie’s eyes suddenly brightened with curiosity.
‘Actually, there is a mystery you can clear up while I’ve got you here. I’m positive I saw your father going about a couple of times a while back. Nelly Miller and Hattie Jones thought they saw him too. My Harry came home from the pub one night and told me he thought he’d seen Arnold. He was with a couple of those shifty-looking types that live down the bottom end and they looked like they was up to no good according to Harry. Anyway, if it was your father, he’s got some brass neck, showing his face again after what he did to your mother, leaving her to struggle to raise you kids. It wasn’t the first time either, was it? He did it before, when you was little. So was it him we all saw? Has he had the nerve to come back again, after all these years?’
Aidy froze. If she confirmed Beattie Roger’s suspicions and it got back to the rent man that she had lied, she wasn’t sure how she would stand regarding her tenancy of the house. She had in truth conned the rent man into handing it over to her. Mr Trotter was the upstanding sort and might not at all like the fact she had done so, despite her good reasons. He could even respond by taking the tenancy back and evicting them. Aidy couldn’t risk that so she lied.
‘That wasn’t my father. We haven’t heard a word from him since he left before our Marion was born. He could be dead, for all we know. Who you saw was a relative of his, his cousin. He was just
stopping with us for a while as he was down on his luck, but he’s gone now.’
Aidy was dying inside. Mortified that, through Beattie, her employer was learning all her sordid family history, personal secrets she had wanted to keep hidden. She vehemently hoped he was so consumed in his work he wasn’t paying any attention to what was being said.
But Ty was listening. In fairness, he couldn’t really not unless he was deaf, the two women being right next to him and not exactly whispering. But what he had heard had come as a shock to him. He had been under the impression that his receptionist was a happily married woman, with no other responsibilities than that. He had had no idea she was being mother to her orphaned siblings and guardian to an aged grandmother. But then, how would he? At her interview it was the abilities she possessed to do the job he required of her, not her private life, he’d been interested in, so he had only enquired of her the barest personal details about herself, like her age and place of abode. She’d announced herself to him as ‘Mrs’ so he’d assumed she was happily married. And since then he’d made no attempt to get to know her on a personal level.
There was far more to his receptionist that he’d thought. She hadn’t led an easy life it seemed, her mother being left to raise Aidy and her siblings single
handed. And neither was Aidy now just a housewife who chose to work so that she and her husband could afford a better standard of living than the majority of folks here had. No, Aidy Nelson worked because she needed the money to care for her orphaned siblings and aged grandmother, and did so on her own as her husband had left her, not wanting to share the responsibility. It took a very unselfish person to give up their own future to give their family one. He knew what he paid her, it wouldn’t be easy for her to make her wage stretch all the way.
He was starting to see his receptionist in a different light. He had based his opinion of her as being rude and disrespectful on his first impression, when she had burst into his surgery and insisted he go with her to attend to her mother. He’d been angry at the time, seeing that as a blatant lack of respect for a man of his professional standing, but in truth wouldn’t he have acted the same way had he found one of his parents in a similar condition?
Beattie Rogers had opened his eyes to the fact that Aidy Nelson was neither rude nor disrespectful but, when her family was in danger, a woman who would do whatever it took to get help for them. She had to be a highly principled, caring and considerate individual to have taken on the burden of her entire family after her mother’s death. And she had strength of character too. Hadn’t she more than proved that by
putting up with him? A thought occurred to him then. She still insisted on addressing him as Doc, despite the number of times he had reprimanded her and reminded her he wished to be addressed as Doctor Strathmore. Was this her way of taking a stand against him for the arrogant way in which he treated her? If that indeed were the truth he realised he couldn’t actually blame her, and even found himself admiring her way of getting her own back.
He suddenly felt guilty for his whole attitude towards her. Here was a woman still in mourning for the loss of her mother and the collapse of her marriage, struggling single handed to care for her orphaned siblings and grandmother. And as if all that wasn’t enough, during work hours she had
his
uncompromising attitude to endure as well. Shame filled him suddenly and a need flooded to explain to Aidy just why he’d acted like he did, so that she did not think the worst of him. But he could not take her into his confidence. Dared not. Even platonic friendship with a woman involved an emotional attachment that held the risk of eventual hurt. He’d enough emotional scars to last him a lifetime. But, regardless, he need not be quite so curt with her in future, need he?
While Ty had been lost in his own thoughts, thankfully for Aidy she had managed to steer the conversation from her personal life and on to other matters.
They were at the moment discussing Beattie’s neighbour’s washing, her whites in particular, which in fact were a dingy grey according to Beattie. Aidy was not finding the topic at all stimulating but was trying her best to show she was, in her effort to keep Beattie’s attention on what she was saying and not what the doctor was doing. Out of the corner of her eye Aidy saw Ty snip the end of the last stitch, and gratefully exclaimed, ‘That’s Doc finished, Mrs Rogers.’
Beattie looked stunned. She spun her head round to look at her arm, the gaping wound now closed by Ty’s skilful work. ‘Well, bless my soul, I never felt a thing,’ she said, awestruck.
‘Doc just needs to swab it with Iodoform then dress it for you and you’re all done.’
Ty eyed his receptionist, taken aback. That was exactly what he was going to be doing next, but how did she know? And further more, it wasn’t her place to explain medical procedures. ‘You can leave us now,’ he said to Aidy tartly, then remembered he was going to treat her with a little more kindness in future and called after her, ‘Er … and thank you.’
Aidy was outside in the corridor by now. She stopped abruptly, her mouth gaping. Had Doc really just thanked her for her help? In all the time she had been working for him, she hadn’t ever heard the words escape his lips. Didn’t think he was aware of them. She must have misheard.
A short while later, Beattie Rogers came back out into the waiting room. Ty followed her. He handed Aidy that morning’s patients’ records to file away while saying, ‘The list you’re compiling of visits for Sister to make tomorrow … add Mrs Rogers to it for a change of dressing. I’m off on rounds.’
With that, he left.
Beattie Rogers was looking pensive. ‘That man reminds me of my Uncle Bert. He was a miserable old bugger! Give him his due, though, he did lose both legs in the war, and his wife left him ’cos she didn’t want a cripple for a husband. I wonder what excuse the doctor’s got for his surly manner? I don’t envy you working for him, love. Can’t fault him as a doctor, though. Stitched me up good and proper. I’ve to come back to have them removed in ten days.
‘Been an expensive accident I had today with the bread knife. I’ve had to plunder me Christmas money to pay the doctor’s fees. Thankfully I don’t have ter pay for Sister’s visits, only for the bandages and whatnot she uses, her services come courtesy of the convent she’s with. I’m not what you could call a religious person, but at times like this I do give a thank you to whoever is up there for those who do good works as their way of serving God. What time will Sister be calling to change my bandage and check no infection has set in? Only I’ll have a pot of tea ready for her.’
Without waiting for Aidy to reply she went on, ‘Takes her calling very seriously does Sister. She makes it her business to find out if there’s any old bodies that are on their own and drops in to see if she can do anything for them. I know this ’cos she called in on Lily Potter the other afternoon, and Lily told me when I popped in to see if she wanted any shopping the next day. Lily can’t get around now, she’s practically crippled by arthritis. She’s no family living around here, so relies a lot on us neighbours to help her. Anyway, Sister did a few jobs for her, had a nice chat with her over a cup of tea and made Lily’s day.
‘Between you and me, dear, I’ve always wondered what it’s really like inside a convent, how strict it is, and this is my chance to find out. What time will I be expecting her then so I can have the tea ready?’
Good people like Sister Teresa made up for the bad people in the world, Aidy thought, picturing the likes of her father and Pat Nelson. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Rogers, but I can’t give you a time. It depends how long the visits take before yours. It’ll be between ten and three, that’s as much as I can say.’
Aidy had only just turned the key in the lock on the waiting-room door when an urgent thump on it from outside made her jump. Unlocking the door again, she opened it to find a woman around her mid-forties,
looking extremely agitated. She seemed well-to-do with smart clothes, hair expertly coiffured, expensive leather handbag hooked over her arm. Aidy wondered what a woman of her sort was doing around these parts. As soon as she spoke, though, it was apparent that she was in fact from these parts originally, although trying to disguise the fact with her bad attempt at a posh accent. This woman had obviously escaped the life of poverty she’d been born into by snaring herself a rich husband.
Pushing past Aidy to make her way inside, she demanded, ‘I need to see the doctor – now. Show me through.’
Aidy admired anyone who’d bettered themselves but that didn’t give them the right to be arrogant to those they’d grown up amongst. She felt like putting this woman in her place but that might put her own job at risk if her employer heard of it. Evenly she responded, ‘I’m afraid the doctor is out on his rounds, won’t be back for a couple of hours or so. If it’s a real emergency then I’ve a rough idea where he’ll be and can go and fetch him for you.’
‘Yes, it damn’ well is an emergency. I want him to section my mother! Grace Willows, twenty-three Wheat Street. She’s losing her faculties … accusing people of stealing. As if anyone would risk a jail sentence for stealing a few paltry trinkets worth no more than a few shillings the lot. She’s put them
somewhere herself and won’t admit she’s forgotten where. The person she’s accusing is the woman I pay to keep an eye on her.
‘My mother is eighty-seven and not very stable on her legs. Mrs Baker isn’t at all pleased about being accused of stealing and has said she won’t continue to check on Mother unless she receives an apology from her. Mother won’t give her an apology as Mrs Baker is the only one who goes in to see her, and she says who else could have stolen her trinkets? I’ve had such a job persuading Mother to allow Mrs Baker in every day as she can be so cantankerous … Getting someone else she will approve of could take forever, and I can’t get over to see her much myself as I have a very busy schedule and we’ve no room at all to have her live with us.
‘Anyway, all that’s beside the point. It saddens me that Mother is no longer in control of her faculties but she’ll only get worse, so best we get it over with now before she becomes a danger to herself. I need to have it done today because I’m going to London for a few days tomorrow, to do my Christmas shopping.’
That old lady was no more a case for the asylum than Aidy’s own grandmother was. Grace Willows had had a simple lapse of memory. Upset at not being able to put her hands on her trinkets, which might be worthless junk to her daughter but were
obviously precious to her, she had vented her distress by accusing her helper of stealing them. Not wanting the trouble of finding someone else to keep an eye on her, or worse still having to have her live in her own home, this selfish bitch was taking drastic measures.
Aidy certainly wasn’t going to help her achieve her aim. ‘Your mother isn’t running amok in the street or bleeding to death, so this doesn’t count as an emergency,’ she said promptly. ‘Evening surgery starts at six.’
The visitor snapped, ‘I will be having dinner with my husband then. What time is the doctor due back from his round for his lunch? Can I see him then?’
Aidy gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘Hard to say. I’ve known him not get back until just before evening surgery is due to start.’
Her visitor’s eyes darkened thunderously. ‘Oh, this is just too bad. I cannot get Mother committed without the doctor’s help.’ She gave a disdainful click of her tongue. ‘I’ll just have to deal with her when I get back from my shopping trip. With a bit of luck, she might have died meantime and I’ll be free of the burden of her at long last.’
She spun on her heel and marched angrily out.
Aidy stared in disbelief after her. Someone should have
that woman
committed, for being so selfish. She doubted she would ever achieve her aim via this
particular doctor. A few weeks back a patient had ranted and raved and threatened to maim him because Ty would not sign him off as unfit for work when he was clearly able. Aidy couldn’t see him committing an old woman to the mental institution, just because she’d become a burden to her daughter.
Aidy caught sight of the clock ticking away on the wall above the fireplace. The last visitor and her devious plan had taken up twenty minutes of her time. She should have cleaned the surgery by now and have any medical instruments used that morning boiling in the steriliser, ready for evening surgery. She started to begin her tasks when a thought struck her. Hadn’t the doctor asked her to do something just before he left? She felt sure he had but couldn’t remember what. Hopefully it would come back to her as she went about her work.