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Authors: Margaret Thomson Davis

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BOOK: The New Breadmakers
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Homeopathic prescribing depended upon which ‘constitutional type’ the patient belonged to and so a lot of time had to be spent during the first consultation to try to find this out. It meant building up a complete physical, mental and emotional picture of the patient – likes and dislikes, hopes and fears, general health and sleeping patterns.

Herbalism also required a detailed history of the patient to be taken before anything could be prescribed. It was the oldest kind of medicine, of course, and many modern drugs were based on traditional herbal remedies. Catriona had found that aspirin, for instance, was originally processed from the bark of the willow tree and digitalis – which was used to treat heart problems – came from foxgloves.

Catriona blessed the day she had found out about both therapies, for her own as well as other people’s benefit. She only wished she’d found out about them years earlier. Years ago was when she’d needed help most, especially when she’d been worn out nursing Melvin’s father.

She didn’t like the term ‘alternative’ medicine, though. She preferred ‘complementary’. There were many medical conditions and ailments for which surgery was the only answer and no herbalist or homoeopath was qualified to give advice or offer treatment in that particular field.

She began to get herself organised. The walk-in larder was already shelved and proved an excellent storeroom and dispensary for all her herbs. Eventually she was able to afford to get a joiner to come and make cupboards behind her desk in her consulting room for her homeopathic medicines.

The big flat-topped desk had been purchased at a second-hand shop. She painted the walls of her room a soft lavender colour which felt soothing and relaxing. Just sitting in that room by herself, or listening and talking to patients, was the nearest thing she had felt to happiness in years. There she could be herself and people seemed to respect her, be grateful to her even.

The only worry she had while there was that one day Melvin would burst in and spoil everything. It was easy to imagine him making a fool of her and belittling her in front of everybody. He’d done it so often in the past.

She would never forgive him if he behaved like that in front of her patients. That would be too much. Far too much.

19

Julie had gone through all the legal channels and had met with nothing but frustration and failure. She’d become depressed. She’d given up. But the longing had never gone away. She could not believe, could not accept, that she would never see her child, never know where she was or how she was, never know what she looked like, never be able to hold her again.

All she had was the fuzzy memory of a tiny rose-petal face. She was terrified that one day the memory would fade completely. The memory of what it felt like to hold her was already fading. She remembered dressing her and lying on the bed gazing at her as the baby slept in the cot beside her. She’d resented the nurse coming in and interrupting those precious moments. Her fingers had traced the tiny face, felt the warm, silky softness of it. Over and over again, she strained to bring the feeling back, to keep it alive and real. But what was the use? There was no new-born baby any more. Somewhere out there was a girl who was a teenager now.

Julie eventually confessed her feelings to Madge and Catriona. For years, pride had forced her to put on a brave front and continue with her usual perky, ‘Sure, I’m OK’ attitude.

They lavished sympathy and support on her. But there was nothing practical they could do. They had even clubbed together to help her pay to hire a private detective for a short time – too short, as it turned out. There had been a few rays of hope from him over the long months but nothing came of it in the end. He’d never even found out the address of the foster parents the baby had been given to for the first six weeks of her life. He’d need a lot more time. Or so he said. Everyone said the chances were the detective was angling for more money. But the money had soon run out and Julie could not bring herself to accept another penny from Madge and Catriona. She felt guilty and ashamed enough as it was for accepting so much already.

‘Some help you are, as usual,’ Madge told Alec.

As it turned out, Alec was the one that might prove to be the most helpful of them all.

‘You know how Sammy’s in the Red Cross now?’ he said to Julie. ‘Well, among other things, he’s had to do nursing training in hospital. He’s been to the Royal. Now he’s doing a stint at Rottenrow. Wasn’t that where they took you?’

Flushed with sudden, painful hope, Julie nodded.

‘Well, I was thinking …’

Before Alec could say anything else, Madge bawled, ‘You never think. You just open your big mouth and put your foot in it. It was nearly thirteen years ago. What could Sammy or anybody else possibly do now? We’ve all been trying for months. Julie’s been trying for years.’

‘No, Madge,’ Julie pleaded. ‘Let him go on.’

‘I just don’t want your hopes to be raised, hen, just to be disappointed again. You know what it’s been like. And I know how you’ve suffered.’

‘I was thinking,’ Alec tried again. ‘There’s always a weak link …’

‘Aye, you’re a weak link,’ Madge said.

‘And in this case the weak link might be the nurse.’

‘The nurse?’ Julie echoed faintly.

‘The nurse who took the baby away.’

‘Yes, but … I don’t get you, Alec.’

‘Aye, and you’re lucky you haven’t got him, believe me.’

‘There was more than one nurse,’ Julie said. ‘I mean, there were different shifts of nurses attending the wards during the time I was in there.’

‘Yes, but that particular one. Do you remember her?’

Julie hesitated. All her attention had been on the baby, not the nurse. And it was so long ago.

‘I think so. But why do you ask?’

‘Well, she must have met the couple who have your wee girl. They’ll have come to the hospital to collect her and that nurse …’

‘Oh yes,’ Julie cried out, crimson now with excitement. ‘You’re right, Alec. Why didn’t the detective think of that? Oh, thank you, Alec.’

Madge cut in. ‘Now, just a minute, hen. Even if what he says is true, it’s thirteen years ago. That nurse is probably dead by now or married with a family of her own, living dear knows where. She could have emigrated for all you know and, even if by some miracle you find her, do you think she’d remember every patient or one baby among the thousands that’s gone through her hands? And, even if she did remember, do you think she’d tell you anything? She’d be breaking the law for a start. See him and his mad ideas! I could murder the silly ass.’

‘I was only trying to help, Madge. And if Sammy agrees to help as well, he’s in a better situation than any of us.’

‘Alec’s right,’ Julie said. ‘Oh, Madge, it’s worth a try. Have you asked Sammy, Alec?’

‘No, I thought I’d speak to you first. Even though he’s always known about what happened. Anyway, I don’t see him as often as I used to since his mother moved in with him. There was a time when he used to come here for his tea quite a lot but he doesn’t like leaving his mother and she always has his tea ready for him.’

‘Don’t worry, Alec. I’ll talk to him myself.’

‘I hope I haven’t raised your hopes too much, Julie. As Madge says, it would be a bit of a miracle if anything comes of it. But it just occurred to me that, if anything or anybody’s going to be able to help you in all this, it might just be that nurse.’

‘You’re right, Alec. You’re right,’ Julie said. ‘And it’s definitely worth a try. It’s very kind of you to think about me and try to help me like this.’

‘Listen,’ Madge said, ‘you’d better watch yourself, hen. I know his way of helping women. He helped Catriona, I remember.’

‘For God’s sake, Madge,’ Alec growled, ‘will you never forget that?’

‘No, I will not, so just you watch it. I’m keeping an eye on you, remember.’

Julie laughed. ‘Oh, Madge, I feel really cheered up. Don’t be angry with Alec.’

‘Aye, he’s good at cheering the girls up.’

‘I’m good at cheering you up.’ In a sudden switch to his normal good humour – Alec could never be serious for long – he grabbed Madge and began tickling her. She screeched and tried to push him away but she was in good spirits now as well. Eventually, having succeeded in fighting him off, she said breathlessly, ‘See that big midden, one of these days I’ll give him a right doin’.’

Lighting a cigarette, his eyes at their sexiest, Alec groaned, ‘I can’t wait. Make it soon!’

Madge rolled her eyes but she laughed and so did Julie. Then, turning serious again, Julie said, ‘I think I’ll walk down the road and go and see Sammy tonight. Right now, in fact. It’ll save me having to travel from the Gorbals to Springburn.’

‘Aye, OK, hen. But try not to get your hopes up too much.’

‘Madge’s right, Julie. There’s another thing – you never know with Sammy …’

Julie looked puzzled. ‘How do you mean? I’ve known him for years.’

‘Well, you know what he’s like. He has a knack of making life complicated at times when he thinks he’s just being straightforward. What do you bet he’ll think about the couple who have adopted your wee girl, as well as about you? And what’s best for the wean?’ He cast his eyes heavenwards. ‘God, the more I think of Sammy, the more I think I shouldn’t have said anything to you.’

‘Now he worries,’ Madge said. ‘When it’s too late and the damage has been done. That’s so like him, the stupid big midden.’

‘It’s all right, Madge. I can cope with Sammy. And I still say it’s worth a try. I’m glad you told me what you thought, Alec. I really am. Even if nothing comes of it.’

Before leaving, she hugged and kissed Madge and blew a kiss to Alec.

‘Watch it, you,’ Madge warned but pleasantly.

Julie hurried down the stone stairs, stiletto heels making a fast, echoing tattoo. Out in the street, she turned to give her usual wave up at Madge’s window. Then along Broomknowes Road, round the corner, past the Co-op grocery and across the road at the Wellfield school. Down the hill now, all the time concentrating and praying that Sammy would be on her side and would agree to try his best to help her. She knew exactly what Alec meant. She liked Sammy very much but he could be very awkward at times. Look how he’d been during the war. And his father a sergeant major and a real patriotic type as well. She fleetingly wondered why his mother had left the old man and was now living with Sammy. She’d heard rumours right enough – but surely they couldn’t be true – about the old man burying a dog alive. The old man had maintained that the dog was ill and he’d believed it to be dead when he’d buried it. Sammy couldn’t have believed him. That must be why he had taken his mother to live in Springburn Road with him.

The old man was a respected member of the Masons and very well thought of by outsiders. He’d always been very polite when he’d passed her in the street, lifting his hat and saying good afternoon or good evening. But she had never liked the sound of his voice. It had a coarse, gravelly edge to it as if he needed to, or was about to, spit.

She didn’t hesitate when she reached Sammy’s close. She hurried through the shadowy tunnel, which smelled of cats’ urine, and up the stairs. It was Sammy who opened the door. He looked surprised. She’d never appeared at his door before. Quickly he recovered and asked her in. The flat was spotlessly clean, cosy and attractive. Sammy’s elderly mother was fussing with pots at the cooker.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Julie said. ‘I’ve come in the middle of your meal.’

‘No, no, dear,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘This is soup and stew I’m making for tomorrow. I like to have as much as I can done in advance. Tomorrow I’ll just have to prepare the potatoes and vegetables and the pudding.’

Sammy laughed. ‘You’d think she was feeding the whole of Springburn. I’ll be getting as fat as a beer barrel.’

‘It was just something I wanted to talk to you about, Sammy. I wondered, you see, if you could help me.’

‘Sure,’ Sammy said, ‘if there’s anything I can do, you only have to ask. Now, why don’t you sit yourself down and tell me all about it. Any chance of a cup of tea, Ma?’

‘Of course, son. Of course.’ Mrs Hunter happily bustled over to the sink and filled the kettle.

20

‘Have you thought this through?’ Sammy asked.

‘For years. I’ve been thinking about it for years. Deep down, I’ve never stopped thinking about it.’

Mrs Hunter said, ‘You poor thing.’ It was about the third or fourth time she’d repeated it.

Julie paid no attention to her. She was concentrating on Sammy’s worried stare. ‘It’s not that I’d try to take her back. I know I’d have no legal right to do that. I just want to see her and make sure she’s all right, that she’s well and happy. Right from the moment she was born, Sammy, I’ve only wanted what’s best for her.’

There was silence for a long minute, broken eventually by Mrs Hunter getting up and fetching the teapot. ‘Have another cup, dear.’

Then Sammy said, ‘I can’t really see how I could be of any help, Julie.’

‘Doesn’t the Red Cross do things like that? Find people? You’re working in the hospital. You could enquire about that nurse. If she’s still there or, if not, find out where she is. I could take over then. I could talk to her.’ Julie thought it safer not to say that he might be in a position to get access to records.

‘It’s a long time ago, Julie. She could be long retired. Dead even.’

‘No, no, she was just a young woman. I can remember her. Her name was Webster. Nurse Webster. She was just a girl. Only in her early twenties at most. There’s a very good chance she’s still there. If she was in her early twenties she’ll just be in her thirties now.’

‘If she married, she won’t be there and she’ll have a different name.’

‘Oh please, at least try, Sammy. I can’t bear to go on like this for the rest of my life. I can’t bear it.’

‘You poor thing. Drink your tea, dear.’

‘Please, Sammy.’

‘All right, Julie. I’ll do what I can but it’s better not to get your hopes up. At the moment I can’t really see …’

‘Oh thank you, Sammy.’ She lunged over at him, flung her arms around his neck and caused his cup and saucer to fly from his hand.

BOOK: The New Breadmakers
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