Margaret pursed her lips.“ann, do you really think it a good idea for ladies to become doctors?”

Monday 5 January 1880

“You smell nice, Mamma,” said Lizzie, putting her arms around Ann.

They were sitting on the window seat in the drawing room awaiting their guests.

“Thank you, sweetheart. A lady must always smell delicious.”

Ann turned as she heard the crunch of feet on the gravel. “Here they are!”

Ann and Lizzie went to meet the Donaldsons and, with each step, Ann was thinking of the letter upstairs in her room, drying off in front of the fire.

Hopefully she would be able to unfold it and read it later.

“Please would you do the honours with the Madeira, Archibald.”

Ann smiled and turned to Margaret who, as predicted, wore a black gown, buttoned tightly up to the neck and with a pearl brooch at her throat.

“That is a pretty brooch, Margaret. How well it offsets the black.”

Margaret smiled at her friend and placed her hand on Ann’s sleeve.

“I presume there is no more news?” She looked Ann up and down, as if to ask if she would ever wear full mourning.

“Nothing. Baxter continues to seek out information each day. Until then we must have hope.”

“Here we are, ladies,” said Archibald, handing his wife and Ann a glass of Madeira each.

Unusual

“Thank you.” Ann turned to the four children at the window.

“James and Lizzie, before you go to the nursery with the twins, you may hand round your shortbread.”

Lizzie ran to the table and picked up the plate of shortbread. James sat at the window seat, scowling.

“James, go and help your sister, please!” Ann turned to Margaret.

“The children have helped Mrs Baxter in the kitchen this afternoon.”

James slouched across the room. He took the second plate of shortbread and handed it to Margaret.

“This looks excellent. What an unusual idea having the children help in the kitchen. How terribly novel.” “It’s not for boys,” James mumbled. “Nonsense, young man.” Archibald said, wiping sugar from his lips. “I used to adore helping Cook with her baking.

“Nanny used to help too. We loved it. I used to help make bannocks and pancakes.

“My mamma said I made them better than Cook in fact.”

“Is that old Mrs Donaldson?”

“Lizzie, it is impolite to mention a lady’s age.” Ann looked sternly at her daughter. “Yes, it is Dr Donaldson’s mother.”

James looked up at Archibald. “Papa used to say cooking was for girls.”

“Not at all. Girls are doing all sorts of things now. Good God, there is even a woman doctor practising in Edinburgh these days.”

“Is there really?” Ann’s eyes widened. “Lizzie, did you hear that? You might become a doctor one day, like Dr Donaldson.”

Lizzie ran over to them and beamed. “I’d like that.” “And so should I,” Ann said, hugging her daughter. “Now off you children go upstairs. Take some shortbread up with you, if you like.

“Miss Graham is up there waiting with a new game.”

She caught James’s arm and drew him towards her to kiss him on the top of his head.

Margaret pursed her lips.

“Ann, do you really think it a good idea for ladies to become doctors?”

“Of course. If both my children ended up in medicine, I should be delighted.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow.

Charitable

“Dr Jex-blake is not only the first lady doctor in Scotland, she also does something which more of my profession ought to,” said Archibald.

“She concentrates on helping the poor.”

“A cause near Ann’s heart,” Margaret said, twirling round her Madeira glass and smiling sweetly. “What do you mean?” Ann snapped.

“All those clothes you give to the children in the hovels. That is most charitable.”

“Yes, yes, I do help take them to the tenements to be distributed, but what else is there to do with one’s children’s clothes?”

“Make rags. That is what my Aggie does. It does not behove us to become too close to such people, Ann, they will get ideas above their station. They are content with their lot.”

“Content?” Ann felt a surge of anger.

“How do you know? How do any of us, in our fine houses, know?”

She pointed to the table with the Maderia. “Archibald, would you be so kind.”

Archibald came over to top up their glasses then sat down beside the ladies.

“Let us change the subject,” he said, noting Ann’s flushed cheeks.

“Ann, now the children are gone, might I ask if there is anything you need help with?”

“It is most kind of you to enquire, thank you. I was wondering whether, since there is still no news of poor Robert, I might have to begin looking at financial matters. But the entire business of finance is all a mystery to me.

“I am, however, aware I shall need some . . .” She paused to fan herself. “I, or rather we, shall require funds soon.”

Ann turned away and took a delicate sip from her glass.

“Ann my dear, Archibald and I were discussing this very matter. Of course you must have some assistance.”

“Indeed we were. Ann, come and see me tomorrow morning in my study and we shall arrange something.”

Key people

Ann nodded demurely. “I am most grateful.” “Did you hear the news that the court of inquiry has been adjourned?” Margaret asked.

“They had the key people called in – eyewitnesses, construction workers, divers and so on – but have had to adjourn for a couple of weeks until more information is gathered.”

Ann nodded. “I had heard. “

“One imagines they also await more bodies,” said Archibald.

“My colleague Dr Anderson has been attending to things along at the mortuary. A most unpleasant task.”

He glanced at Ann’s rigid expression.

“But Ann, do you still believe that, until there is firm evidence that Robert was on the train, there might still be some explanation to account for his absence?”

Ann gazed out the window at the dark night and listened to the wind howling round the trees.

“All things are possible.”

More tomorrow.