Vintage Love (207 page)

John laughed. “Any time! Tell him to come before I leave and I’ll explain the operation to him!”

The incident spread the fame of Dr. John Hastings through the area. He had become a legendary figure. Joy was well aware that the people had taken her wiry, brave husband to their hearts.

She began teaching Jock Monroe to read. He was a surprisingly quick and apt pupil. She was delighted with his progress and her happiest moment was when he was able to read at one of their weekly book meetings. Jack Taggart listened with barely concealed jealousy, and tittered when Jock made a mistake with a difficult word.

Little Reverend Robin Miles clapped his hands at the end of the reading and cried, “Bravo! Well done, my lad!”

But it was to Rose Stewart whom Jock looked for some encouragement on his achievement. Joy was annoyed to see the pretty girl show no interest at all, but merely turn to the schoolmaster with one of her simpering smiles.

Jock was not discouraged. He continued to come for his reading instruction. One night, when John was away for an overnight visit to the islands, she kept Jock later than usual. She did it because she was lonely and had extra time with John away. Heather had retired to her room so she and her student were alone.

Suddenly the big man put down his reader and demanded of her, “How did you happen to marry the doctor?”

Taken back, she said, “Why do you ask?”

“You’re not like him! You must have come from a different sort of world!”

“I did,” she said. “But I became tired of that world. And I found love and a good husband in John Hastings.”

“So you love him?”

“I do, Jock,” she said earnestly. “And I worry about him. Especially on nights like this when he is risking his life in the storm to look after patients on the islands. The Loch is so rough it scares me!”

“The fishermen are out there all the time, ma’am.”

She said, “I call you Jock. You may call me Joy.”

He flushed crimson. “I could not.”

“Why not?” she asked. “I have few friends. You come as close to a true friend as anyone here. I need to feel I have someone besides John on whom I can depend.”

The big man looked uncomfortable. “It would be disrespectful. I could not call you Joy.”

She smiled. “You just have. And whenever you feel like it in the future you must call me by my name. No one will think it wrong.”

“I must get used to the idea,” he said.

“Take your time,” she told him.

Jock stared at her. “Were you rich before you married the doctor?”

“I’m still wealthy,” she said. “When my father dies I will inherit part of a large fortune. But money is not important to me. My happiness with John means much more.”

The big man stared at his work-roughened hands. “I wish that Rose could see things your way. She thinks me a fool because I prefer to remain here in the village. She respects Jack Taggart because he has filled her head with stories about his going to make a huge salary as a schoolteacher in Edinburgh.”

She said, “Jack Taggart may go to Edinburgh and teach but he will remain a poor man. He is a shallow, conceited fellow. And I cannot say much for your Rose. She is shallow also in spite of having a pretty face and a shapely body.”

Jock looked shocked. “But we are betrothed, she and I!”

“I’m sorry. I had to tell you what I think.”

“The lass will change. She is young and wilful.”

“Not so much younger than I am, Jock.”

“But you are different!”

“Oh?”

“You have quality. You’ve lived in a world I’ll never know. I might read about it in books but I’ll never be part of it.”

She said, “None of us can live in more than one world at a time. But we can learn about other societies or even distant places in books. Often, Jock, you’ll find yourself preferring this small, isolated world of Invermere to the great one outside.”

“But will I not become dissatisfied with Invermere?”

“Only if you think it inferior. Why not make Invermere a better place to live? That is what my husband is trying to do. I would find the same thing commendable in you, Jock.”

Jock eyed her with new interest. He said, “I have been reading in the London paper that soon there will be steam railways to replace stages, and tracks will be placed through all the isolated parts of the country. Soon there will be no villages cut off from the main world.”

“I think that will happen.”

“A man might find work with the steam railway,” he suggested. “Be part of something new, and not have to toil in the lumber woods or go out to the Loch in freezing cold to turn with half-filled nets.”

She laughed. “There, you see! You have ambition! Don’t let Rose ruin it all for you.”

“I will show her,” he said. “I have learned to read and I can be as important as the schoolmaster.”

“Of course you can!” she encouraged him.

“Joy!” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He suddenly took her in his arms and hungrily kissed her.

She was stunned. She had guessed he liked her but had not expected him to react in this fashion. He almost immediately let her go, and looked so shattered that she felt sorry for him.

In a low voice, he said, “I have betrayed your friendship!”

She faced him, and caught him by the arm. “Listen to me!”

He pulled back in his anguish. “I have shamed myself.”

“No, Jock! I’m as much to blame as you!”

“That cannot be!”

“I told you of my loneliness and asked you to call me by my given name.”

“That is no excuse for what I did!”

“Don’t think about it!” she said. “And don’t worry about John. He would be the first to understand. I reached out to you in my fear and loneliness. I needed a friend!”

“I no longer have the right to be your friend!”

“Of course you have,” she said. “I shall think of you as I do of my brother in England.”

“You are not merely trying to ease my shame?”

“I’m talking to you honestly as one human to another. I do need friendship. And I need to help you! I need to do something to feel some pride in. You have given me that chance.”

“I must never come back here,” he said, sadly.

“Jock!” she said. And she raised herself on her toes so that she might kiss him on the cheek. “You must not desert me! You must never think of doing such a thing!”

He stared at her in wonder. “You forgive me?”

“Of course,” she said. “I’m not suggesting we be lovers. I want you as my trusted friend. Neither of us have done any wrong. We must go on as before without even thinking of this.”

After a moment without speaking he nodded. She knew that she had made him understand. She would still have him as her friend.

Time went by and she became more accustomed to the role of doctor’s wife, and hardened to the stark routine of the operating room. She considered herself John’s wife, and the wide, gold wedding band on her finger signified their union. The village folk respected them. All seemed to be going well.

Then with one of the weekly mails there came a letter in her mother’s handwriting. Most of her correspondence had been with her father or Hilda, with an occasional letter from her friend, Nancy. Only at Christmas and on her birthday had her righteous mother deigned to send her a message. Now there was this unexpected letter.

She tore the envelope open with trembling fingers, and read the letter. Fortunately, she was seated at the kitchen table of the cottage and alone, so she was able to study the letter in private. Her mother wrote in her usual, curt manner:

Joy burst into tears, and sat at the table with her head resting on her arm. The death of her father had severed one great link with London.

During the period of mourning for her father, Joy received letters from Hilda and Nancy. The letter from Nancy came first, and was full of London news. In one part her friend wrote: “I know how much you loved your father and I offer my heartfelt sympathy in this loss. I know your own courage will help you bear this great sorrow. I often ponder on death, now that I have given life. My son is more than a year old and lively. I’m pregnant for a second time. I often think that my husband and I have little in common but the begetting of children.

“I have been doing a great deal of work for the poor of late. I’m associated with a group called Friends Of The Poor. The leader is a talented man, Ernest Layton, who is a Liberal member of Parliament. He is giving all his free time to this splendid work among London’s poverty stricken. I hope all goes well in Scotland, and that you and John are both in good health.”

With a sigh she put Nancy’s letter aside, and opened the one addressed to her in Hilda’s neat hand. Hilda wrote: “I know how you must feel about your father’s death. I doubt that your mother was any more tactful in writing than she is in person. She is cold and cannot help herself. But I do want you to know your father continually talked of you. He visited James and me often and he found a special joy in our new arrival. The boy somewhat resembles him, if you can truthfully say a baby resembles anyone. At any rate, your father was pleased with him. He suggested if I should have a girl it ought to be named Joy. And I agree. So you can be sure he was always proud of you.

“Aside from this sad bereavement, and I shall surely miss your father as much as anyone, life is going well for us. James is taking complete charge of the estate, the farm in Surrey holds his special interest. He has deserted the gaming tables and debauchery for his wife and home. I find him much like you in his viewpoints and angers. More pertinent news. Friends of mine have recently seen your husband. They claim that Sir George is using a walking stick and seems in bad health. James claims he spends much of his time in a house of ill repute.

“I often think of you and John. I trust his practice is going well. I wish we could occasionally meet. I’m sure our close friendship will continue through our lives. James sends his love to you and John. Your affectionate sister, Hilda.”

A week after the news, John told her, “You need a change. Before the winter sets in we’ll have a holiday in Edinburgh.”

And he kept his promise. They spent a week seeing friends and buying needed supplies and clothing. She made a call at the Stewart Bank where the manager explained that with her father’s death a great deal of money had been transferred to her account.

John renewed a friendship with an old friend who had headed the Medical School at Edinburgh University. His name was Dr. Stanley Marsh and he was a stout, balding bachelor of sixty, with a good sense of humor. They dined with him several times, once at an inn, and then at his quarters at the university. They gathered there on the last night of their holiday.

After dinner they sat in his comfortable living room. John brought up the matter of the North’s need for doctors. He asked, “What is the University doing to encourage young doctors to set up practice in the Highlands?”

Dr. Marsh sat with a cigar in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other. He said, “We try to get them to go there. But many have little interest because of the isolation and scant remuneration.”

John said, “But the satisfaction is great. And the need is equally great.”

Dr. Marsh showed a twinkle in his eyes as he said, “Did you not go to London to begin your career? And where else would you have found a wife so charming as Joy?”

Joy said, “But he wasn’t happy when we met. He was already pining to return to the Highlands.”

“True,” John said. “And though I did not return to the village where I was born I picked out a similar place.”

“The greatest problem is money,” Dr. Marsh said frankly. “The most talented graduates expect to be well paid for those talents. So they seek out practices in the cities.”

“A fund could be set up to help those who are willing to take the smaller practices in the rural areas.”

“Perhaps the government will step in one day,” Dr. Marsh suggested.

“Small use counting on that!” John grumbled.

“You are to be commended for remaining where you are,” the stout man said. “And so is Mrs. Hastings. Too often a complaining wife demands her husband seek employment in the cities.”

She said, “I try not to interfere.”

“For which I praise you,” the elderly doctor said.

“Joy has been my right hand,” John said with a look of admiration for her. “She, and an intelligent local girl named Heather, are our nursing staff. I’ve done almost every sort of operation, with their assistance.”

“Excellent,” the head of the medical school said. “I understand some good nursing schools are being established. Have you had any professional training, Mrs. Hastings?”

“No,” she said. “I grew up idle and rich in London.”

Dr. Marsh chuckled. “You appear to have reformed. And I would say working under your husband will be the equivalent to the best training.”

“I’m not easy on her,” John said. “I want her to be a capable nurse.”

“When were you married?” Dr. Marsh asked her.

She hesitated, then said, “After leaving London.”

John came to her rescue, saying, “I placed the wedding ring on her finger in Birmingham.”

“Not a romantic city,” Dr. Marsh smiled. “But I’m sure you both were in a romantic mood.”

“And have ever since remained so,” John said with a knowing smile for her.

The first thing Joy did when she returned to Invermere was to bring out some of the materials for dressmaking she’d purchased in Edinburgh. She measured Heather and said, “I want to make you a fine dress before I get too busy with other things.”