Dismissal

Chapter 1 (after 15.05 Love or Money)

As Julia spoke her parting words to Doctor Forbes, her voice became thick, and she felt tears pricking at her eyes. But she would not cry. To do so would only reinforce his supposition that she was emotional and hysterical. So, with an erect posture and head held high, she strode from the room. She made eye contact with no one on the way to her office, and once inside, she still did not give way to her emotions. Instead, she packed the few necessities she could into her bag, resolving to later figure out a way to retrieve the rest of her belongs without having to step foot inside the building again.

Outside, she flagged down a carriage, telling the driver to take her to the one place (or rather to the one person) she wanted to be. She still did not succumb to the inevitable upset once inside the confines of the carriage. Her hands held the straps of her bags in a grip so tight her knuckled turned white. Her features were set, her expression unreadable to anyone who may have glimpsed her as she passed.

Finally, once she alighted at Station House Four, she strode with purpose to her destination. Quite out of character, she did not nod, or greet, or even bestow a smile to any of the constables. Instead, she made a beeline for her husband's office.

William looked up from his report at the opening of the door. "Julia!" His smile fell at the expression on her face, still quite unreadable to anyone else, but he knew her well enough to note her lack of cheer.

She stopped by his worktable to lay down her bag. "William." Her voice choked at that one word, so she had to force out the rest of her sentence. "I've been fired."

"Oh!" And then, at seeing her eyes become rapidly luminous with tears, he stood and made his way quickly towards her. "Oh, Julia." He took her elbow, leading her to one of the chairs before his desk, carefully angling it so she was seated with her back towards the rest of the station house. He sat down, too, so that their knees touched, and he could lean close and grasp her trembling hands. "Julia, I'm sorry. Is it related to the operation you performed yesterday?"

She nodded, gripping his fingers. The night before, over dinner, she'd told him through her fury about Doctor Deakins' misdiagnosis of his patient, and her subsequent actions. Now, she told him of Doctor Forbes' insistence that she apologise, and Doctor Deakins' dismissive and condensing response when she spoke with him. For a time, her tears abated as indignation and righteous anger took over. But when she related her final conversation with Doctor Forbes, the upset returned. "He said that I'm always angry and find oppression where there is none. Both he and Doctor Deakins accused me of hysteria and of being overemotional."

While she spoke, William maintained a steady, sympathetic gaze, although she rarely looked at him to be able to see it. His heart ached to see Julia so upset. As the tears began to drip from her face to make form circles on her skirt, he loosened his hold with one hand to offer his handkerchief.

"Thank you," she sniffed, dabbing at her eyes, this gallant act of his doing a little to calm her, so much so that she huffed a short laugh. "I'm aware I'm not doing a very good job of not appearing hysterical."

"By definition, hysteria is an exaggeration or emotion. I'd say you have plenty of cause to be upset and angry. I am furious on your behalf!"

"Perhaps…" She was silent, and then a small sob escaped her, quite without her volition. "I just don't know what I'm going to do!"

"Oh, Julia," he uttered again. Unable to merely sit there while she cried, he shifted so he could gather her to him. Her face tucked against his shoulder, she huddled against him. It was then that he noticed Inspector Brackenreid making his way towards his door. William held up his hand, and the older man nodded, shot a look of concern at Doctor Ogden, and retreated.

Once Julia had calmed, she eased away from William, who reached to tenderly tidy his wife's hair. "Thank you," she sniffed again, although she was still downcast.

Knowing his wife as he did, William understood that in times of strife a plan helped to ward off despair. So, he took her hand again, stroking her knuckles while he spoke. "Do you think you'll have any recourse to contest your dismissal?"

"I don't believe so. Apparently the board are in agreement with Doctor Forbes."

He nodded, again angry that she was being so unfairly punished. But his anger, while supportive was not going to help her. "A new position elsewhere then... Might you try The Hospital for Sick Children?"

"I'm not sure…" She shifted, her fingers twitching against his, while she decided whether to utter her next words. "Darcey worked there; I doubt I'll be welcome."

"Perhaps, but that was some years ago. It might be worth a try." She nodded but was clearly unconvinced, so he made another suggestion. "There are others: York General, St. Michael's, the Salvation Army hospital… Or what about joining a medical practice, or opening one of your own?"

"But a medical practice won't allow me to perform surgery. It will make these past few years worthless!"

That was a slight exaggeration in his eyes, but he wasn't going to comment, lest she infer that he, too, thought she was hysterical. "Well, what about something further afield? Perhaps a hospital in Berlin or Guelph?"

"They're a little far to travel, don't you think? We'd barely see each other, and I'd be permanently exhausted!"

"We could relocate so we're halfway between your new hospital and the station house."

He spoke so casually that she was taken back. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course." Again, there was no doubt or hesitation and he bestowed upon her one of his winsome smiles.

She raised a hand to his cheek. Tears again filled her vision, but then they were of awe and gratitude and the overwhelming feeling of being loved. "William Murdoch, you are such a lovely man. Thank you. And thank you for dealing with this." She gestured over herself, indicating both herself, and the state in which she'd entered his office.

"No thanks are necessary. I'm thankful that you came to me." He kissed her softly, reverently. He nodded to her bag on his worktable. "And tomorrow, I will collect the rest of your belongings from the hospital; there is no need for you to accompany me if you'd rather not."

With his statement, he'd solved another of her problems without her saying a word; her gratitude only increased.

"Now," he rose, bringing her to stand with him, "I suggest we go home and relax. I have much to tell you about George and his Aunt Zinnia."

And so, William set aside his report on Juan De Leon's murder, deciding for once that work could wait. Arm in arm, they exited his office and the station house. Julia, still angry, still upset, felt calmer with William's support, and a plan to pursue employment elsewhere. For William's part, his heart was full with tenderness for his wronged wife, and gratitude that their bond was such that he was the one she sought out in her upset.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'm not sure this story contributes much, but aside from research and edits, I wrote it in one sitting, which is rare for me – it usually takes weeks, months, even years for me to finish a story!

I did some research and I believe the hospitals William mentions were in existence during 1909/1910. Riverdale Isolation Hospital also existed, but as it specialised in diseases such as tuberculosis, I didn't think William would recommend it given what happened to Liza.

Berlin was the previous name of Kitchener (shout-out to anyone who was at the Murdoch weekend there!), which had the formerly-named Berlin-Waterloo Hospital. There was also a hospital in Guelph. It's a bit of a distance, but might have just have been do-able (in TV-land at least) if William and Julia moved halfway between Toronto and Berlin/Guelph – based on my understanding of reading railwaypages dot com, I believe there was a railway line connecting the two to Toronto, if possibly indirectly in the case of Berlin.

Part two coming soon(ish)…