Maybe she should stop trying so hard to change her life. Maybe she needed to be more like Chrissie and let life happen to her

Rebel was there to greet him and rushed to the door when Ian came in. “I know, boy,” he said, clipping on his lead, “walkies.” Usually, Ian would drive to Caird Park but today, Rebel got a quick march to the Swannie Ponds and back again. While Rebel ate his dog food Ian washed and shaved and put on his only suit. He was going to see Maisie that afternoon and had to look his best, so after arranging with a garage to take on the repair of his car and handing in his documents at Bell Street, Ian set off for the DRI and Maisie.

On the way there, he found a florist open where he bought a bunch of freesias and a tray of fruit, unsold before Christmas and still wrapped in cellophane topped with a red ribbon.

Afternoon visiting time was three to four o’clock and on the dot of three, Ian entered the ward, his eyes anxiously scanning the beds for Maisie.

She was reading a magazine and didn’t see him approach and the sound of his voice made her jump.

“Ian!” she exclaimed, “you’re all right! I was worried about you, but there was no one to ask.” Her voice tailed off as he handed her the flowers and the Christmas fruit basket.

Reaction

“They’re for you,” he said, sitting down on the chair by Maisie’s bed and trying to gauge her reaction to the gifts. She sniffed the freesias and gazed at the fruit.

“Thank you,” she said, “but I’m not ill, really. It’s just this.” She held up the plastered arm secured by a sling tied around her neck. Ian grimaced, this small talk wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I know you’re not ill,” he said, “but I wanted you to have them anyway,” he said, searching for the right words to say and failing.

“I don’t want you thinking I’ve been neglecting you,” he rambled, “but I had to get the car fixed and visit my mother and there’s Rebel, of course, he needed looking after.”

“Stop blethering!” he told himself. “Tell her that you love her, make it all right.”

Maisie felt uneasy. She wasn’t used to men who were so controlled and polite and didn’t know quite how to react to Ian’s detailed list of reasons for his delayed appearance.

“It’s all right,” she said, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” The silence that following lasted far too long.

Ian realised that instead of professing his love and affection for Maisie, he was floundering.

“Will you be getting home soon?” he asked bleakly, beginning to realise that all the things he’d wanted to do and say had come to nothing.

“Tomorrow, I think,” she replied. “The doctors will be speaking to mum and dad today, but I think tomorrow I’ll be home.”

Again, the conversation dried up and almost simultaneously, Maisie and Ian realised that he still didn’t even know where she lived, but neither of them broached the subject.

What was it? Maisie wondered, as Ian continued to gaze at nothing in particular. Where was the ‘have a go hero’ she’d felt drawn to when she’d read about Rebel and him capturing the two robbers at NCR?

The distance between them widened in the silence and despite wanting to feel some closeness, right now, all she felt was sorry for him.

Loud voices

Loud voices at the ward door drew Maisie’s attention. She felt herself cringe as her dad, followed by her mum, came unsteadily up the ward waving at her and bristling with temper.

“They said you were only allowed two visitors at a time,” her dad said, eyeing Ian Brown, “so they weren’t going to let us in.”

Joe Green turned his full attention on Ian Brown. “Who’s this, then?” he asked Maisie.

Ian stood up and offered the seat to Maisie’s mother. “This is Ian,” Maisie said hastily, “the driver of the car.”

Ian was unhappy about being referred to as “the driver” and not “my boyfriend,” but he said nothing. Instead he watched as Maisie’s mother cast a puzzled eye over him, before sitting down in the chair and giving him no more heed.

Maisie’s dad looked at the ward clock and then at Ian Brown. It was obvious he’d outstayed his welcome, not just by Mr and Mrs Green, but by Maisie as well.

Ian looked at Maisie’s parents and then at her. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, inanely, “and get well soon.”

No one did anything to stop him, so with ears burning, he left the ward and Maisie behind. “Who was that?” Esther Green asked her daughter, “and dressed up like a dog’s dinner an’ all.”

“And whut possessed you to go in a car with someone like him?” added her father, dismissively.

There it was. Her mum and dad had spotted it right away. The problem wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough for Ian Brown, it was that Ian Brown wasn’t man enough for her.

The feelings of panic she had experienced at the Angus Hotel when she’d run away and again at Ian’s flat, when all she’d wanted to do was go home, had confused her, but seeing him now made her realise that what she was being offered was only the appearances of love, perfect on the surface with its wine and flowers, but what was missing was the spark of love, from his heart.

The rest of the visit blurred into words and gestures, but Maisie heard none of it. Maybe it was still the shock of the accident, maybe the thought of another year coming to an end, but whatever it was, Maisie felt empty and lost.

All her plans for a better life for herself had evaporated with the departure of Ian Brown from the ward and from her life.

Celebrating

The bell sounding the end of the visiting hour rang into Maisie’s thoughts. “So, we’ll come and get you tomorrow, then,” she heard her mother say.

Maisie forced a smile. “Great,” she said. “I can’t wait to get home.”

But get home to what? Maybe she should just stop trying so hard to change her life. Maybe she needed to be more like Chrissie and let life happen to her.

The nurse came over to check her temperature. “Going home soon?” she asked. Maisie nodded, the thermometer bobbing up and down in her mouth. The nurse noted the reading on Maisie’s chart. “You’ll be home for Hogmanay, then,” she said. Again, Maisie nodded.

“Lucky you,” came the reply. “I’ll be working here while all my pals will be celebrating.” Maisie could think of nothing better than missing Hogmanay altogether. It was going to be miserable and maybe she could convince Chrissie to give it a miss.

More tomorrow.