I’ll Bring You Buttercups. Elizabeth Elgin

Alice yelled. ‘And give her some air. Don’t stand there, gawping!’

      ‘Let me through. And do as the young lady asks. I am a doctor. I’ll see to her, and the rest of you be away to your homes – at once!’

      And not, if she lived to be a hundred and one, Alice thought fervently, would she forget her relief as the young man took off his hat and removed his gloves, then felt with sure, gentle fingers for the pulse at Julia’s wrist.

      As if they had never been, the women were gone. Only the policemen remained, dusting down their uniforms, retrieving lost helmets, returning truncheons to back pockets.

      ‘Is there any need for you to stay, sergeant?’ the doctor asked quietly.

      ‘If you think she’s all right, doctor; not badly hurt, I mean?’

      ‘She’ll do, but I’d like to get her home and have a look at her. Do you know where she lives?’ he asked of Alice.

      ‘Yes, sir. Not far away – the other side of the park.’

      ‘Then if I could have the use of your – er – conveyance, officer, to get her there, I’d be obliged. I take it she isn’t under arrest?’

      ‘No. I’m prepared to look the other way this time.’

      ‘And when she comes round,’ Alice gasped, ‘I’m sure my young lady will be prepared to do the same.’

      But it was all her fault, she admitted silently. She shouldn’t have pushed the big policeman quite so roughly, even though he’d been a threat to Miss Julia and the young mother. Oh, what a mess they were in, and when would Miss Julia open her eyes?

      ‘There now – that’s better,’ said the strange young man, who shifted and swayed into focus as Julia blinked open her eyes.

      ‘Who? Where …’

      ‘You are safely home, ma’am, and I am a doctor.’

      ‘Oh, my head …’ The room tilted, then righted itself. ‘And the blood!’

      ‘It’s all right, miss. It’s stopped, now.’ Alice whisked away the offending bowl and towel. ‘You hit you head – knocked yourself out, and the doctor had you brought here – in the police van.’

      ‘That poor woman,’ Julia fretted. ‘They’d no right … Was there any trouble?’

      ‘No trouble. I think Miss – er –’

      ‘Sutton,’ Julia supplied.

      ‘I think, Miss Sutton, that there was fault on both sides, so there’ll be nothing further said about it – this time.’

      ‘And the girl who threw the cricket ball?’

      ‘She scarpered, miss,’ Alice breathed. ‘Well, with the doctor wanting their carriage for you, there was nothing to cart her off in.’

      ‘Good. I’m glad she knocked his helmet off.’

      ‘Madam! You are completely without shame – but at least you appear to be recovering.’

      ‘Shame? Yes, I suppose I am.’ There was a silence as Julia looked, as if for the first time, into the face of her deliverer. Then, grasping the chair arms firmly, she rose unsteadily to her feet. ‘I am grateful to you, doctor, though I’m still not sure what happened.’

      ‘Nor I, Miss Sutton, though from a distance you appeared to take a flying leap at a policeman. Luckily I was there, though your injuries appear worse than they really are. The abrasion to your forehead, though slight, bled rather a lot, and you will have quite a bruise in the morning. I can well believe that your head aches, too.’

      ‘Aches!’ Alice whispered. ‘She went down with such a bang I’m surprised it’s still in one piece!’

      ‘Well, I think she’ll be all right now, with your help, Miss –’ He smiled.

      ‘Hawthorn, sir. I’m Miss Julia’s maid, and I’ll see to her.’

      ‘And you’ll call a doctor at once, should Miss Sutton develop a sudden feeling of sickness or coldness or clamminess of the skin. Is there a telephone in the house?’

      ‘There is, sir. But she will be all right?’

      ‘I’m almost certain she will. And take a powder if the headache prevents you from sleeping, ma’am.’

      ‘But where will we find you, if –’ Julia stammered.

      ‘I’m afraid I’m not on call, Miss Sutton. I’m not in general practice. I work at Bart’s. But your local doctor, perhaps …’

      ‘I’ve been a terrible trouble, haven’t I?’ Julia whispered contritely. ‘How can I thank you?’

      ‘By thinking no more about it. I’m only glad I was there in the park to – to get you out of trouble.’

      Gravely, he made a small, polite bow; smiling, he left her.

      ‘Do you think he’s married?’ Julia demanded when Alice had handed him his hat and gloves and bobbed a curtsey before closing the front door behind him.

      ‘Married, miss? The doctor? Whatever put such a thought into your head?’

      ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. I think it must be the bump to my forehead. And I don’t know why I’m making such a fuss, because I won’t ever see him again, will I? He didn’t even tell me his name.’

      ‘No, miss, he didn’t.’

      ‘Just my luck to meet someone like him, then find he isn’t interested,’ Julia whispered soberly.

      ‘Well, miss, the way I see it is this. Tonight you were his patient, so it wouldn’t have been proper for him to be interested, would it? And he didn’t need to tell you his name, because he gave me his card – just in case, he said – before he left. And if you’d like to know it says his name is Andrew MacMalcolm, and if you want my opinion I’d say definitely that he isn’t married.’

      ‘Isn’t?’

      ‘Not a chance. Married men have all their shirt buttons. Doctor MacMalcolm had two of his missing.’

      ‘He did?’ A smile lifted the corners of Julia’s mouth and a distinct sparkle lit her eyes.

      ‘Oh, yes. A sewing-maid always notices such things.’

      ‘Hawthorn! What a dear, clever person you are. Do you know, I’m really glad you came to London with me. It wouldn’t have been half as much fun with Mary or Bess. And I think I’ll go to bed now. It’s been a funny sort of day, hasn’t it, and all at once I’m a little tired. Be a dear, and untie my corset laces? I can manage on my own, if you’ll do that for me.’

      All at once, Julia wanted to lie quietly in her bed and think about the young doctor and the height of him and the broadness of his shoulders – and those grey, thicklashed eyes – or were they green? – that laughed, even when he was scolding her.

      ‘I’ll do that,’ Alice smiled, ‘and when you’re settled down I’ll bring you up a drink of milk. And you won’t be cross with me in the morning, will you, when you find you’ve got a terrible ugly bruise?’

      ‘Of course not. Why should I be?’

      ‘Because it was my fault, really. All of a sudden I didn’t see why I shouldn’t join in too, and I gave that big policeman such a shove from behind, though if I’d known he’d land slap-bang on top of you I’d never have done it. I wouldn’t – honestly.’

      ‘Why, Hawthorn – and you pretending to be such a sober-sides! And I’m not the least bit cross with you.’

      ‘You’re not?’

      ‘Honestly. I’d even go so far as to say,’ Julia smiled, ‘that