The Scottish Heart

Chapter 3-1

Nathan climbed Provident Street and turned into Galt Place. He hated Mondays and he"d worked overtime on a rush job: his legs and back ached from welding in tight spaces and corners of the submarine hull. The fumes from spent rods tainted his mouth and the tight headpiece of the hood had left him with a headache. His eyes hurt from staring through the dark glass of the hood, as he controlled the direction of the weld.

He"d bathe his eyes in soothing, cold tea. He"d not slept well and spent a restless night worrying about Dorothy. Nathan wanted to wash the sweat and dirt from his body, and rinse the foul metal taste from his mouth, before sitting down to supper with Ma. Later quiet, studying music theory and practising the Arban Method on the muted Bach.

“Nathan. Is that you?” Ma said. “Ah"ve a message for ye.”

“Can it no" keep?”

“No. It canny keep. Dorothy"s in the Royal Infirmary, she went in last night.”

“Ah better get over there.”

“Sit down, Nathan.”

The Ward Sister had called late that afternoon. Dorothy would be in hospital for a few days. Nathan should come to the ward at two the following afternoon and ask for Sister MacKay. It would be quiet then.

Nathan bathed and felt better for it. Despite Ma"s urgings, he ate little of his evening meal. He hoped Zoë might call and tell him what happened. He thought about calling her and decided against it; Zoë would tell him nothing. The lack of news made Nathan restless.

The evening stretched out ahead of him, and he went for a walk through the town, but the half hour of striding in the rain brought no relief from the worry and anxiety and he returned to Galt Place.

“Nathan. Yer making me nervous prowlin" through the house. Sit down an" content yersel. Ah"m worried as well ye know. Away an" work on yer music; practise yer trumpet.”

But Nathan could not concentrate and, disgusted, threw the sheet music and the textbook to the floor. He picked up the Bach and played like an amateur, fluffing notes, botching the practice; he could not get Dorothy out of his mind.

Sleep came late and Ma shook him wake at 6.00 am. He"d slept through the alarm. He shaved, and the deep shadows under his eyes repelled him.

Ma stood over him. “You"ll be in some state to see Dorothy if you don"t eat yer breakfast.”

That morning, Nathan worked rapidly, moving through a series of tricky jobs demanding his attention; he was glad of the variety, and for the half shift had no time to worry about Dorothy. He rushed home at noon and started worrying about Dorothy when he walked out the yard gate.

He knocked on the ward door at 2.00pm. “Can I speak to Sister MacKay, please?”

“I"m Sister MacKay. Come in.”

She took Nathan to the Ward Office. Sister MacKay was about Nathan"s age, attractive, prim in her starched, blue uniform, and white cap of office. She wore an engagement ring.

“I shouldn"t be doing this, Mr. Forrest. You"re not a relative are you?”

“I"m a friend.”

Sister MacKay smiled. “Oh come on, Mr. Forrest. You"re more than a friend. Miss Jones pleaded with me to get in touch with you.”

“We"ve been going out. Is she going to be all right?”

“Dorothy has concussion and two nasty head wounds. She"s a bleeder; Doctor put five stitches in the back of her head and three in her brow. She was rather bloody and confused when I admitted her. Her Aunt brought her by ambulance to Casualty on Sunday evening and said that Dorothy had fallen. There"s a nasty bruise on her face and she didn"t get it from a fall. I told the Aunt to leave yesterday at visiting. She shouted at Dorothy; "I shall not tell him that you"re in hospital. You"re not coming back to my house unless you give him up." Dorothy was very upset. She needs quiet.”

Nathan felt like a fighter taking a battering of combination punches, leaving him stunned. He raged at Zoë, and worried about Dorothy. He rose to go into the ward and find Dorothy.

“Try to be calm, Mr. Forrest. Dorothy will be all right; she"ll be here until the end of the week. We need to see that she"s recovering from the concussion. Then she"ll need another week to convalesce. Have you any idea what happened?”

Nathan told Sister MacKay about the disaster of Sunday evening. “Dorothy was fine when I left her at the house after our walk.”

“I think the aunt hit Dorothy on the face, and it went from bad to worse. I"ve put a screen round her bed. You can see her now, and you"ll have a bit of privacy. Try not to worry. She may be a bit weepy, but it"ll pass. She will get better. We just need to keep an eye on Dorothy for a few more days. I"ll get a vase for the roses.”

Dorothy wasn"t fully awake; she lay propped up on a heap of crisp, white pillows, the edge of a cream counterpane bordered by a white sheet rested on her breast. Her arms lay on the counter pane.

Nathan"s anger vanished when he grabbed her right hand, covering her long pale, slender fingers in both of his hands. The dark blue and green-yellow bruising just above her left jaw scared him. He nearly cried when he saw the enlarged pupil of her right eye. There was a dressing lodged on her brow and the white lint of another dressing stuck out from the back of her head. Nathan wanted to strangle Zoë.

“Dorothy, Dorothy, what happened?”

“Oh, Nathan. I"ve got a tonsure. They shaved the back of my head. I hope I don"t scar. I had a dreadful headache when I woke this morning, but it"s getting better.”

He wanted to hold Dorothy; to protect his love.

“Nathan, you"re hurting my hand. No, no, don"t let go, but don"t hold it so tightly.”

“Do you feel up to telling me what happened?”

“I"ll try.”

Dorothy intended going straight to bed. She didn"t want to face another round. Zoë, however, was ready for battle.

“Zoë pounced on me in the hall, a fiend from Hell, shouting and pointing her finger. She stuck her face in mine, and I smelt the Sherry from her breath. She called you a hooligan and said she"d not permit me to see you again. I tried to get away from her and went into the kitchen, but she followed me.”

“Was she drunk?” Nathan said.

“Yes, but I didn"t let her off. I told her that she knew nothing of you and Ma, or the way you lived; that you"d been good and kind to me. I said that you wouldn"t sink to her level of rudeness. But she wouldn"t stop. She was out of control. She said, "I know where they belong. I suppose they keep coal in the bath. No doubt, this Ma, is like my cleaning woman, worthy enough, but grubby. These people forget when to wash. My God, on the trains and buses there are flocks of them. I avoid public transport.”

“Zoë called you a Catholic bastard.”

“She"s not the first.”

“She"s a wild woman. Just like my father when he"s drunk.”

“I see.”

“I told her that she was all talk; just another notional Socialist and needed to get out from the classroom, away from her adoring young ladies, and she got all haughty: "How dare you I am no Nazi!" ”

“She"s crazy.”

“She hit me on the face. It really hurt. My nose tickled and salty blood came down my face and onto my blouse. I woke on the stretcher going to the ambulance. It was awful, Nathan; really horrible.”

When she fainted, Dorothy fell back, and banged her head on the edge of the sink. Losing consciousness, she pitched to the right and bounced the front of her head on the kitchen bin.

“I"ll have her, if she ever touches you again.”

“No, Nathan. Please just stay away from her.”

Dorothy looked so tired and worn out. He held onto her hand sending his love into her. “You can"t go back there. Don"t worry. I"ll find a way.”

“Time to take your leave, Mr. Forrest,” Sister MacKay said. “Let Dorothy rest awhile.”

“I"ll see you again, very soon, Dorothy.”

Sister MacKay took Nathan back to the Ward Office. “Things don"t sit well with the Aunt, do they? Look Mr. Forrest, I"d like to help. If Dorothy needs a place to stay once she"s convalesced, I lodge with an elderly couple; their name is Cooke and they"re very nice. The house is on the other side of Lord Nelson Street. It"s right in the West End. They take four girls, room and board, and no young men. They look after us. Very fair price and there"s a sitting room. There"s a room free from next Monday. I could ask about it for Dorothy, and I can arrange to have her things sent on.”

“Thank you, thank you. Yes, please do that. When she comes out of the Infirmary, Ma and me, we"ll look after her.”

And so, Dorothy convalesced with Ma and Nathan. He slept in the bed settee in the sitting room and gladly surrendered his bedroom to Dorothy. Out of suffering an idyll came. Ma fussed over Dorothy; Nathan amused her, and as much as he was able, he made her laugh again. She found his records strange, and could make little of Thelonious Monk; but she liked Harry Edison a favourite horn player of Nathan"s and the warm tenor of Lester Young. And Nathan wooed her with the Bach and the piano. Dorothy liked it when Nathan sang Crazy She Calls Me.

“I say I"ll go through fire

And I"ll go through fire

As she wants it, so it will be

Crazy she calls me

Sure, I"m crazy

Crazy in love, you see.”

The song said a lot about them. Dorothy had felt heat because of Nathan. Her father hit her, and Zoë put her in the infirmary. “You put up with a lot for me, Dorothy.”

Dorothy reached out, and held Nathan"s hand. “I"m glad I"m here, Nathan.”

Chris phoned from Prestwick Air Base, and Dorothy was touched. Leo brought his children. They sat quiet watching Dorothy sitting up in bed looking demure in the bed jacket that Ma had given her. He entertained Dorothy with tales of playing in the orchestra aboard the Queen Mary on the Southampton-New York run, and the Jazz Clubs he visited in New York.

“I went to Charlie"s Tavern on Seventh Avenue, between 52nd and 53rd Streets; a great place where Jazz musicians hung out.”

“How did you find it?”

“This alto player I met took me there. He knew many people. He taught me a lot. I was on the New York run for a couple of years. We went to Harlem, and I sat in. When I heard them, I realized I"d a lot to learn.”

Dorothy had been staying with them for several days and looked healthier, but tired easily. He wanted her to get well and her colour to return; but he adored her pale, ivory complexion and translucent skin as she recovered.

Nathan brought the Bach to Dorothy"s bedside. He caressed the trumpet, weighing it lovingly, cherishing its perfect balance, and the mellow gold finish. “I want to show you something. Would you like to get up for a little while?”