Authors: The Handkerchief Tree
‘You didn’t want to go anyway?’
‘No. My work is here.’ His face darkened a little. ‘If you could see some of the Glasgow tenements – well, maybe you don’t have to go to Africa to find children needing help.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’m due at Matron’s in five minutes.’
‘So am I.’
‘Let’s go, then.’
The rest of the day was taken up by the tests, with Mark conducting them, Matron assisting, and Shona supervising those waiting for their turns. When the work was finished and Miss Donner had arrived to take the seniors downstairs for free time, a welcome tray of tea arrived, after which Matron thanked Mark and Shona and said she must get on.
‘What do you think about having Shona back as a grown-up?’ Mark asked, at which Matron beamed and said she couldn’t be more pleased.
‘So lovely to have you, dear,’ she told Shona. ‘And you’re just as efficient as I thought you’d be. But what a shame you had to give up your floristry, eh?’
‘Floristry’s loss is our gain,’ Mark said cheerfully, once again looking at his watch. ‘Got to go. But the tests went well and there are only three needing glasses. Will you arrange optician’s appointments, Shona?’
‘Certainly, Doctor Mark.’
As Matron hurried on her way, Mark grinned. ‘Very formal, aren’t we?’
‘Have to be, I suppose.’
‘Not always. But why don’t you see me out?’
They made their way to the front door, where Mark paused to put on his hat.
‘Been to see the Handkerchief Tree?’
‘Oh, yes, but it’s no’ fully out yet.’
‘Will be soon.’ His vivid gaze was considering her. ‘I was wondering – you must get time off here, don’t you? A half day or something?’
‘I get every fourth Sunday and a half day on Wednesday, just like at the shop.’
‘We never did get that second cup of tea, did we? How about meeting again, then? I can take a Wednesday afternoon if I’m back for evening surgery.’
‘That’d be nice,’ she said, by enormous effort showing no surprise. ‘When shall we meet?’
‘Next week? I’ll come over and collect you.’
‘You mean, come to the front door?’
‘Afraid people will see? Let ’em, but if you’re worried, I can come to the gates and you can meet me there. Shall we say about three o’clock?’
‘Fine. I’ll be there.’
As he turned away, he looked back and smiled. ‘Shona?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m glad you’re back.’
That night, Shona scarcely slept. Once she sat up in the darkness and fumbled amongst her possessions in her bedside table. Was it really there? She seemed to remember seeing it when she unpacked. Imagine her keeping it all this time . . . but there it was – Mark’s handkerchief. She slipped it under her pillow and lay down again, but not to sleep. Would she ever sleep again?
Of course, she did. But during the day she walked on air.
For their teatime meeting, they chose a small café in Princes Street, Shona having admitted that she would rather not go again to the Tea Box. To walk down George Street and have to pass Maybel’s all boarded up – no, she’d rather not.
‘Very understandable,’ said Mark. ‘It’s been a bad time for you. Well, for everyone, but Maybel’s was special to you, wasn’t it? How’s the owner taking it?’
‘Mr Kyle? He might bounce back. He always says he’s like a rubber ball.’
Sitting opposite Mark, meeting his amazing eyes, Shona was being borne along on such a crazy cloud of happiness she really didn’t want to think of Fraser. Yet how could she not think of him, and want him, somehow, to find someone he’d feel the same way about as she did with Mark? At the same time, she knew she should be careful, giving way to happiness, when she might in fact have no right to it at all.
Still, there she was, and there was Mark, looking at her so cheerfully over their tea things. It seemed to her that she might as well feel happy while she could, and Fraser’s image faded from her mind.
‘Well, this is nice, isn’t it?’ Mark said, passing her a cucumber sandwich. ‘You and I together again.’
‘I never thought we would be.’
‘Why was that?’ He was watching her pour the tea.
‘I suppose I was thinking of Miss Ruddick.’
‘Ah, Jay. I’m afraid Africa cut me out there.’
She passed him his cup, wondering what to say. Sorry? Of course, she wasn’t, but said it, anyway.
‘It’s all right – water under the bridge, as they say. I had to find out that she wasn’t interested in love or marriage. A genuinely fine person, quite selfless, only wanting to help people, but not, you see, wanting me.’
He drank his tea, keeping his eyes on Shona’s face. ‘Once I understood, I had to accept the situation and I did. We’ll always keep in touch, be friends, but no more. End of story.’
‘I see,’ Shona murmured. ‘I do believe she’s a very wonderful person.’
‘Oh, she is, and before I forget, she asked me to tell you she was sorry she hadn’t had time to come in to say goodbye, but wishes you all the best. She thought very highly of you, you know.’
‘Another sandwich?’ asked Shona, flushing, but Mark shook his head.
‘One of those delectable little cakes, I think. But, listen, mind if I ask whether you feel like telling me about your cousin yet?’
No, she decided, she didn’t feel like telling him about Brett. What could she say when so much was secret? How could she ever tell Mark what Brett had done? ‘He had to go,’ she answered slowly. ‘Felt he had to be on the move. I didn’t want to leave Scotland, so we parted.’
‘And now?’ he asked softly.
‘Now?’
‘I mean, is it over?’
‘It’s over,’ she said steadily.
‘You don’t mind that I asked?’
Mind? Her heart was singing that he had. ‘Oh, no, I don’t mind,’ she told him.
He sat back with a sigh. ‘Seems we’ve both had our fingers burnt, then, doesn’t it? Both had some heartache. Has it put you off?’
‘What do you mean? Put me off?’
‘Seeing me. Beginning again?’
She leaned forward, her eyes luminous, her feeling for him so real, she was sure he must recognize it, sense it sweeping over him, as his feeling for her, that she now could truly see, held her in thrall. ‘With you there’s no question of beginning again, Mark. There’s always been something there, right from the start.’
‘For me, too.’ He took her hand. ‘From that first day when I showed you the Handkerchief Tree, there was rapport, wasn’t there? But you were so young. I always had to stand away.’
‘And you found Jay.’
‘And you found Brett.’
‘Water under the bridge?’
‘Torrents.’
‘I’m no’ so young now, you know.’
His smile was tender. ‘I know. Come on, let’s go. I’ll take you back to the Lodge.’
On their return he parked near the entrance to the house. ‘No skulking round at the gates this time. Why should we?’
‘I don’t know, really. It’s just that people . . . talk.’
‘As I say, let ’em. Listen, I’ve a few minutes, shall we look at the Handkerchief Tree?’
Shona had said it wasn’t in full bloom, yet there it was, covered in all its May glory, her special tree that had brought their lives together, hers and Mark’s.
‘I thought we should both see it again today,’ he told her quietly, slipping her hand into his. ‘To remember the past. Maybe think about the future? You want to do that, Shona?’
‘You know I do!’
‘You’ll see me again, then? We can meet?’
‘Any time, Mark. Any time!’
For some moments they stood looking at the tree, not thinking that anyone might see them, even Shona not caring. There was no one in the garden but themselves.
‘You don’t think the tree’s getting old?’ Shona asked fearfully. ‘I mean, too old? You don’t think it will die?’
‘No, it’s fine. But if it did, you know where there’s another, don’t you?’
‘In your garden? But that’s yours.’
‘I’ll share it with you, Shona.’
‘Share it?’
He did not explain. Perhaps he thought he didn’t need to, only suddenly he drew her into his arms so that they might stand together to exchange a long, serious kiss while the Handkerchief Tree looked on.
‘Our only witness,’ Mark said, catching his breath when they drew apart. ‘There’s no one around.’
For a moment time seemed to stand still as they stood gazing into each other’s faces, but Mark could not forget he had to go. His surgery was waiting.
‘Time,’ he groaned. ‘Why is there never enough? And why have we wasted so much?’
As they reluctantly left the Handkerchief Tree to bloom alone, their free afternoon over, they knew they would waste no more.