Give me another chance, the girl begged again, pulling a tiny handkerchief from the pocket of her cardigan and dabbing her nose. The kerchief was white with a pale blue trim and little flowers at the corners.
Touching, thought Professor Andrew Whitfield. How sweet. I cant stand a womans tearsno, really, Im allergic to them.
None of that, love. Try again next year, or shall I set you up as a hospital orderly? Its grim work, but at least youll get a glimpse of what goes on behind those pristine white doorsimagining yourself as a halfgod, nodding at patients who look at you with pleading eyes. Isnt that the dream? He glanced over the bustling courtyard of the medical school, the students swarming like bees.
How many freckles do you have, Miss Crimson? he teased, leaning under the girls bonnet. The sun must have kissed you all over. He chuckled, delighted by the light sprinkling of freckles on her cheek, by the way the sun seemed to shower her with kisses, by the fact that his wifes birthday was that very day and they were off to the countryside where pike and chub lurked in the pond, and the bees in the hives buzzed in protest while Andrew chatted with them about the meaning of life.
Daisy frowned, squinting. The professor is laughing thats odd. Everything feels wrong, she thought, embarrassed at the exam hall, her sweaty hands crumpling the admission ticket, terrified to meet the panel.
Er Im not laughing at you, Andrew said, his voice softening. Miss Daisy, youre absolutely lovely. He tugged at his shirt collar, his briefcase rustling. Shall we get some icecream? Its scorching today! He pulled a crumpled note from under his woollen coat. Heres a few quidgo buy us both a cone. Ill wait on the bench. He gestured vaguely toward a nearby bench.
Daisy shrugged, her brow still furrowed. What flavor? she asked quietly.
Whatever you like, and make it quick. If you dawdle, therell be a wet spot where I should be a tidy orderly, and that wont do. He watched, amused, as she shuffled across the campus with her skinny legs, clutching the icecream stall.
Just a girl, nothing more, he muttered, shaking his head. How did she end up on my doorstep?
He settled on the bench, his briefcase beside him, and produced a massive, gaudy bluegreen handkerchiefnothing like Daisys dainty one. He dabbed his forehead, grimacing. Ugh, being sweaty, tired, and old is dreadful. Its maddening to feel grand next to a freckled, delicate girl. Not that I want to flirtGod forbid! I love my wife more than anything; I never cast a sidelong glance at students. It just pains me that life has passed me by while I watch youthful ambition like Daisys bloom.
Daisy, still blushing, asked, Why are you studying me? Ive got the icecreamheres a double scoop. She handed him a paperwrapped cone.
What about you? Andrew asked, eyeing her empty hands. I said two cones. Youve already ignored me! What now?
She darted back to the stall, bought another scoop, and plopped down beside his briefcase. Eat, he ordered, and then goodbye. Ive got a lot to dowifes birthday, taking the car to the cottage, hauling luggage, the lot. You?
She dabbed the corner of her mouth, shrugged. The icecream was overly sweet, too richmore drink than dessert.
You dont even know where you are, do you? Andrew snapped his foot in irritation. Youre wandering around, arent you?
Yes, Daisy admitted. Im staying with my aunt for now. Some relatives from the north are arriving today, so Ill have to go. My aunt keeps reminding me the flat isnt a hotel. She sighed.
Where do you live? How did you get here? Andrew asked, chewing his cone.
It doesnt matter. Just take me for another exam, please! I can tell you three things, foursomething I just got confused. She gestured helplessly.
Dont bother, he warned, tapping his finger. You cant have a jumbled head in this line of work. Youll end up cutting out someones spleen instead of an appendix. Impossible!
Can you even cut the right thing? Daisy asked, eyes wide. Want another cone?
She grabbed his arm; he jerked away, huffing. No, thank you. Ive had enough. I must be offmy wifes waiting. He stood, bowed, and walked away down the park walkway, leaving Daisy in her redandwhite bonnet, sighing forlornly on the bench. She tucked a tiny suitcaseno bigger than a dollsinto the shrubbery.
Everything its really over, she whispered, sniffling, her freckled nose trembling. Everyone will laugh at me. Who would have believed Id study to be a doctor?
In the sleepy village of Redbridge, split by a winding country road into town houses and neat cottages with cheerful gables, no one believed that little Daisy, as spry as a grasshopper, would ever graduate from medical school and stroll the local hospital in a white coat, giving advice to nurses nearing retirement.
The hospital was a crumbling threestorey block with yellowgreen mould on the walls, overseen by chief surgeon Nicholas Firthhis face perpetually flushed, nose streaked with blue veins, eyes sunk in deep bags, lips dry as old parchment. He rarely left his office, refused to hire fresh graduates, and swore by steam inhalations to cure everything. Supplies of rubbing alcohol vanished faster than you could say tonic water.
Daisy, determined, prepared for the entrance exam but failed biology, chemistry, and genetics. Not meant to be, she muttered.
Andrew Whitfield had vanished from sight, while Daisy lingered on the bench, clutching her melted icecream stick.
Now I just want a drink, she mused, retrieving her suitcase from the bushes and hurrying toward the bus stop, hoping to catch the early train before night fell.
She dreaded walking alone after dark; every rustle in the hedges seemed a ghost, every owl hoot a warning. Her granny had filled her head with stories of demons and forest sprites, and now the night sounds made her shiver. She curled under a blanket, listening to the creak of a fence, the snap of a branch, the cluck of hens, the crow of a rooster, the distant bark of dogs, and the snore of her grandfather, who, despite his gruff mutterings, oddly soothed her.
Grandpa had since passed away from pneumonia, and Nicholas Firth still prescribed his beloved steam treatments. The villagers whispered that the old doctors death had been swifttwo days, a final bout of stubborn coughing.
Another one bites the dust, muttered the night nurse, Tamara Egerton.
The road from the station to the cottage remained the sameovergrown hedges, stray trees, abandoned brick houses full of mystery. Daisy trudged along, her suitcase bumping against her leg, sobbing softly. Why did Andrew never believe in me? I wouldve done better than anyone, she thought.
A lanky lad named Victor appeared, snatching the suitcase. Daisy gasped, ready to scream, then recognised him. Victor! What are you doing here? You didnt think Id get in, did you? she snapped.
Calm down, love! Victor growled. Ive been cheering for you, even when you thought Id quit. Aunt called, said you were coming back, so I came to meet you. He paused, then pulled her into a tight hug, his arms warm around her trembling frame.
Now, give me a kiss, she whispered, halflaughing, halfcrying.
Victor, blushing, leaned in and pecked her cheek. It was awkward, a bit soggy, but sweet. He pulled back, smiling. Glad youre back, Daisy. If youd stayed, Id have driven to see you.
She nodded, feeling a strange peace settle over the chaos.
Back at the hospital, Andrew, now looking a little greyer but still spry, rummaged through the admissions list, muttering names: Kerr, Carver, Whitton Oh dear, wheres she? He spotted a tidylooking nurse, Nadia, wiping her spectacles with a bluebordered handkerchiefidentical to his own, though far uglier.
Where did you get that? he asked sharply.
Its from the market. They had a version with yellow flowers, but I like this one better, Nadia replied, tucking the cloth away.
Enough! Andrew barked. I need Miss Daisy Crimson. Shes the one Ive been looking for.
Nadia, now pregnant, shrugged and munched an apple, her stomach growling.
She never showed up! Ive been pestering the dean, begging for a spot outside the normal quota, but they said no. All those students are dreaming, but she didnt come. Do you think shell ever return?
Later, Professor Fadey, a sharptongued lecturer, laughed. Youre not looking for protégés anymore, are you?
No, Andrew snapped, ripping his hand free and marching to the icecream trolley. He bought a double scoop, sat back on his bench, and began chewing thoughtfully.
Ah well, he sighed. At least Ive got pike in the pond and a birthday cake for my wife.
The day progressed, and the villages celebratory atmosphere turned sour when Andrew suddenly collapsed, clutching his chest. His wife, Tessa, screamed, Call an ambulance! Neighbours swarmed, shouting diagnoses, while the local driver tried to navigate a road blocked by a tippedover fuel tanker.
The nearest medical centre was a dingy threestorey building with peeling plaster. Inside, the caretaker, Igor, shouted, Wheres the doctor? Weve got an emergency! The door was locked; after a frantic pounding, the head physician, Nicholas Firth, staggered out, hair dishevelled, smelling of cheap whisky.
Stop making a racket! Im trying to think! he snarled at Tessa, who, trembling, pushed past him into the ward.
Andrew lay on a cold cot, the morning light barely filtering through the grimy windows. His wife slept on a hard metal chair beside him, her head resting on his arm. He tried to reach for her hand, but his body refused to move. Then the door opened and a young nurse in a blue coat entered, adjusting her headscarf.
Water, please, she said gently, handing him a glass. Youre looking rather pale.
Miss Crimson? You? Andrews freckled nose twitched in surprise.
Yes, Im Daisy. Ive been looking for you for two years. Im coming back this year, I promise. I met Victor at the station, we married, we have a son, Sam. Ive started as a hospital orderly, just as you suggested, and Ive learned a lot.
Where am I? Andrew whispered, bewildered.
This awful place, but I want to change it, Daisy replied, brushing a blanket over his shoulders. Ive seen how you run thingsno wonder youre so colourful.
Andrew chuckled weakly. Youve got the right spirit, Daisy. Perhaps well fix this place together, or at least make it less miserable.
The nurse, Tamara, laughed. If we manage not to die like Dr. Firth here, thatll be a win.
Andrew, now a shade paler, managed a smile. Alright, lets see what we can do. And maybe, just maybe, Ill finally get a proper cup of tea.
Outside, the village of Redbridge went on, its hedges rustling, its old stone cottages whispering, and somewhere a tiny suitcase waited patiently for its owners next adventure.
