from the Police Station. Wondering idly to herself what a person who is not a voyeur but a listener is called she paused long enough to hear Lolly give a triumphant shout of: 'Orgassissimo Orlando! Orgassissimo!'
Walking Wounded
THE GLASGOW ROYAL Infirmary has the usual complex parking system most hospitals support and Delia was anxious to arrive there before Beth was discharged. Beame was reassuring about her injuries. He'd spoken to the dog owner and reported that it was a simple bite in the girl's bottom, regrettable but not serious. Delia left the Rolls Royce, with Beame still hunting for a parking spot, and hurried into Accident and Emergency. Steve was sitting in the waiting room. Delia hurried over to him, her beautiful face a mask of concern and compassion.
'Steve! How is she? Poor love! What a dreadful thing to happen. I am so glad you called me.'
'She'll be OK I guess,' said Steve. 'They already gave her a tetanus shot. Right now they're putting a few stitches in her butt.'
'Butt? Oh you mean her bottom. Poor old thing. Where is she..?'
Steve pointed to a cubicle off to the right of a passageway, murmuring that he'd been asked to wait outside. But Delia wanted to make contact with Beth as soon as possible and was convinced no 'please wait outside' request could apply to her. She therefore invaded the cubicle just as a nurse was completing putting a dressing on Beth's upper thigh. A young woman doctor was there too.
'D'you wear a bikini?' she was asking Beth.
'Never have. Why?' asked Beth.
'It could leave a bit of a scar,' said the doctor.
'My vanity doesn't extend to my butt,' laughed Beth, not noticing Delia standing just inside the cubicle.
Beth thanked the doctor and the nurse, wondering why no one had yet mentioned insurance or credit cards.
'Take this to the pharmacy for your medication,' said the doctor.
'Try and keep the dressing dry,' added the nurse.
And they were gone. It was then that Beth saw Delia smiling sympathetically at her.
'My dear Beth. You have been in the wars. I'm so relieved it is nothing worse than, as Steve puts it, a bite in your butt.'
'Thank you so much for coming, Delia.' Beth was really grateful. Some of these Scottish people were so kind and thoughtful. Others were – well you'd find them in Texas too. She knew that, and added: 'Terry, our teacher, said there'd be days like this.'
Beth had slipped on her clothes while Delia went to find Steve. On their return she was delving in her handbag for her credit cards.
'So where do we pay?' she asked.
'Pay? You don't pay. No one pays,' Delia told her. 'Now listen you two. Lachlan has this terrific idea. We want you to come home with us. We have some wonderful raw material for your mission. You never saw as many heathens as we have at Tressock, our place on the Borders. Lachlan, for one.'
'Lachlan is a heathen?' Beth was astonished.
'Lachlan's religion is music,' said Delia. 'If he weren't the chairman of a big company he would like to have written an oratorio like Handel. Call him agnostic if you like. Buddhism, Hinduism, Zoroastrianism are all one to him – manifestations of the Life Force. Christianity too of course. But, as I said, you'll find better missionary material within twenty miles of our home than in Papua New Guinea. Not like the lot you saw this morning. Nice people. People who probably deserve to be saved – starting with Lachlan. Me too perhaps.'
'Sounds good to me. No mad dogs?' asked Steve.
'Friendly dogs,' smiled Delia. 'We specialise in horses actually, Steve. Beautiful horses. Do come. We'll invite the whole of Tressock. Our little town.'
But Delia could see that Beth was unconvinced. She wondered whether the girl had a bit of a martyr complex and really wanted to suffer for her cause.
'You and Lachlan are both just so sweet to think of doing that,' said Beth without a great deal of conviction. 'But right now I think I'd feel I was running away from the challenge right here in Glasgow. Don't
Walking Wounded
THE GLASGOW ROYAL Infirmary has the usual complex parking system most hospitals support and Delia was anxious to arrive there before Beth was discharged. Beame was reassuring about her injuries. He'd spoken to the dog owner and reported that it was a simple bite in the girl's bottom, regrettable but not serious. Delia left the Rolls Royce, with Beame still hunting for a parking spot, and hurried into Accident and Emergency. Steve was sitting in the waiting room. Delia hurried over to him, her beautiful face a mask of concern and compassion.
'Steve! How is she? Poor love! What a dreadful thing to happen. I am so glad you called me.'
'She'll be OK I guess,' said Steve. 'They already gave her a tetanus shot. Right now they're putting a few stitches in her butt.'
'Butt? Oh you mean her bottom. Poor old thing. Where is she..?'
Steve pointed to a cubicle off to the right of a passageway, murmuring that he'd been asked to wait outside. But Delia wanted to make contact with Beth as soon as possible and was convinced no 'please wait outside' request could apply to her. She therefore invaded the cubicle just as a nurse was completing putting a dressing on Beth's upper thigh. A young woman doctor was there too.
'D'you wear a bikini?' she was asking Beth.
'Never have. Why?' asked Beth.
'It could leave a bit of a scar,' said the doctor.
'My vanity doesn't extend to my butt,' laughed Beth, not noticing Delia standing just inside the cubicle.
Beth thanked the doctor and the nurse, wondering why no one had yet mentioned insurance or credit cards.
'Take this to the pharmacy for your medication,' said the doctor.
'Try and keep the dressing dry,' added the nurse.
And they were gone. It was then that Beth saw Delia smiling sympathetically at her.
'My dear Beth. You have been in the wars. I'm so relieved it is nothing worse than, as Steve puts it, a bite in your butt.'
'Thank you so much for coming, Delia.' Beth was really grateful. Some of these Scottish people were so kind and thoughtful. Others were – well you'd find them in Texas too. She knew that, and added: 'Terry, our teacher, said there'd be days like this.'
Beth had slipped on her clothes while Delia went to find Steve. On their return she was delving in her handbag for her credit cards.
'So where do we pay?' she asked.
'Pay? You don't pay. No one pays,' Delia told her. 'Now listen you two. Lachlan has this terrific idea. We want you to come home with us. We have some wonderful raw material for your mission. You never saw as many heathens as we have at Tressock, our place on the Borders. Lachlan, for one.'
'Lachlan is a heathen?' Beth was astonished.
'Lachlan's religion is music,' said Delia. 'If he weren't the chairman of a big company he would like to have written an oratorio like Handel. Call him agnostic if you like. Buddhism, Hinduism, Zoroastrianism are all one to him – manifestations of the Life Force. Christianity too of course. But, as I said, you'll find better missionary material within twenty miles of our home than in Papua New Guinea. Not like the lot you saw this morning. Nice people. People who probably deserve to be saved – starting with Lachlan. Me too perhaps.'
'Sounds good to me. No mad dogs?' asked Steve.
'Friendly dogs,' smiled Delia. 'We specialise in horses actually, Steve. Beautiful horses. Do come. We'll invite the whole of Tressock. Our little town.'
But Delia could see that Beth was unconvinced. She wondered whether the girl had a bit of a martyr complex and really wanted to suffer for her cause.
'You and Lachlan are both just so sweet to think of doing that,' said Beth without a great deal of conviction. 'But right now I think I'd feel I was running away from the challenge right here in Glasgow. Don't
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