on Friday,” said Dorothy, as the baby in her arms began to fret.
“What difference?” said her mother. “The train will go when it goes, whether you are sitting on it for one second or two minutes.”
The queue shuffled forward. At last it was her turn and Dorothy laid her money on the counter.
“One to Dundee, please”
“Now you yell,” said Mohmi, “you have to keep her off that train.”
Dawn screeched. She screeched as she had never screeched before, as though the worst pain in the world had just been visited upon her. Dorothy nearly dropped the baby onto the counter.
“Here, give me the baby,” said Rose, “while you get the ticket. There there, my precious, did the pain come back, then? A naughty pain, when Dr Ross says there is nothing wrong. We do not need to worry, just a bit of colic.” She shifted Dawn up to her shoulder and patted her back with a practised hand.
“I had reason to be worried, mother. She pulled up her little legs with the pain.”
“Every baby has colic. You would think there had never been another baby in the world, the way you and Lewis fuss over this one. No good doctors in Dundee! What nonsense.”
“I trust Dr Ross,” said Dorothy, as she took her ticket. “Now he says there is nothing wrong, I can relax.”
“Hmm. Until the next time. Are you going to come running home every time she has a fever?”
“I might. Will you not welcome me?” Dorothy patted the baby’s back, making no difference to the grizzly wail that Dawn was making.
“Of course, hen. This is your home. We never wanted you to go to Dundee. And I do not think this little lady wants to go to Dundee either.”
“You are right, Rose” said Mohmi, “at least, not on this train. Go on, Dawn, shout. You must not get on the train.” Dawn wailed, louder. Two other babies were crying, one very loudly.
“Maybe we should bring her back to Dr Ross,” said Rose. “He could see her tomorrow and there would still be time for you to get back to your husband before Hogmanay. I’m sure your ticket will do for another train.”
“Yes, maybe that would be better.” Dorothy took the baby back and kissed her. Dawn stopped crying and smiled at her mother.
“Come on.” Dorothy turned and made for the station entrance. A porter pushed across her path with a heap of luggage and she stopped. She turned to face her mother.
“But what will Lewis think? He will go to the station to meet us and we will not be there. He will go mad with worry.” She turned back.
“Worry does not hurt, in the long run, Dorothy, if there is no reason for it,” said Jotin. “Go home with your mother now and get the ferry tomorrow. Then you will know why I stopped you buying a return ticket yesterday.”
Dorothy hesitated. Then she started moving back towards the platform. Dawn began to grizzle again and her mother stopped and looked down into the little face.
“So, what do you think, hen? Will we go back to the nice doctor? Or home to Daddy?”
“Ask one thing at a time, you silly girl. How can she answer that?” asked Jotin.
“She does not expect an answer,” said Mohmi. “It is so frustrating. They are so deaf this time. Getting deafer all the time. Learning as souls, progressing in other ways, but getting more and more difficult to guide. Come on, Dawn, yell again, it is the only way they will hear us.”
Dawn yelled again.
“Oh the poor mite,” said Rose, “she is frightened. Maybe of the doctor.”
“No, No, No,” shouted Jotin, Mohmi, and Rose’s guide together. “Of the train!”
Rose shuddered and pulled her shawl tighter around her.
“Someone’s walking over my grave,” she said.
“You go on home, mother and get warm. No point in us all shivering. Dawn and I will be all right, the train will be here soon. I hope I can get a seat away from a window, so I do not see the sea.”
“You and not looking at the sea! You will not see it anyway now, it is pitch black out there.”
“Another good reason for going now and not waiting for tomorrow.”
“Well, goodbye, my love. Write to me tomorrow.” Rose kissed her daughter and bent forward to kiss Dawn, whose tear-stained face looked back up at her with an unfathomable expression.
“TaTa little one. Be a good bairn for mummy. Wouldn’t you love to know what she is thinking? Such