Another instalment of the "when Things Go Too Far" series. I'm not that good at writing romance, but Isobel and Clarkson do feature heavily in this one (they have to- it's their series), and Lavender and Hay will be publishing a new part of this series very soon.
The school was in turmoil. Despite the war, the head teacher was determined to keep traditions alive and running, and so the prize giving ceremony was to proceed as planned. The only problem was- there was no one to give a speech.
The teachers had wanted someone in the army, or in some way helping the war effort, to talk to the children about perseverance, loyalty, and the other qualities expected to be taught at school. Corporal Swinton had been due to make the speech, but had been called away on urgent business at the last minute.
Mrs White organised the prizes on the table and thought hard. Who could give that speech? And where was Miss Evans who was supposed to be helping her? Both her questions were answered in the following minutes.
Firstly, Enid Evans came rushing into the hall, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.
"Whatever is the matter girl?" Mrs White asked, looking both worried and curious at once.
"The ambulance- it's here! It's actually come here! Oh, everyone in the village has gathered round it- come and see!" Enid ran back out again, and Mrs White hastily followed.
Arriving outside she could see the mentioned ambulance, and caught sight of the men operating it. Setting eyes on the doctor, her pulse sped up and her knees sank.
Who better to give a rousing speech on helping the war effort than a doctor?
. . . . .
Dr Clarkson eyed himself in the mirror, and straightened his tie. He was honoured, of course, that he had been chosen to speak at prize giving, but it was quite short notice and he wasn't sure how it would go. He heard a knock at the door, and opened it, expecting Branson. Instead, he was met by Isobel.
"Hello. I've come to wish you luck for your speech." She smiled, and waited to be invited in. Clarkson smiled back, and held open the door for her.
"Thank you. I'm actually just waiting for Branson to pick me up- the school thought it would be fitting if I arrived in the ambulance."
"I'm sure you will do marvellously- you have such an inspiring voice."
Dr Clarkson wasn't quite sure what to make of this compliment, but was saved from answering by another knock on the door.
"That will be Branson." Isobel swept to the door and opened it. Clarkson hurried after her.
"Well, thank you for coming to wish me good luck." He said, with a cough and a meaningful glance at Branson, who was staring purposefully into the distance. "I will see you again sometime soon?"
"Oh, I'm coming with you." Isobel replied. Clarkson looked confused. Branson looked like he was trying not to laugh.
"I'm a governor at the school- I have to be there for prize giving." She smiled again, and offered her hand to Clarkson so he could help her into the ambulance.
"I'm sure I mentioned that to you."
. . . . .
The speech had gone well. Too well in fact. Clarkson had successfully instilled patriotism and courage and eagerness into every pupil there. Unfortunately, he'd also appeared to have had quite an effect on one of the teachers. Isobel noted this with a frown. She could see clearly, as she was sitting on the stage along with the other governors, and saw that a teacher in the second row seemed to be completely enamoured with the doctor.
When the ceremony was over, pupils and adults alike mixed in the hall before the dance began. Isobel searched for her doctor, and set eyes on him just in time to see him being led into a corner by the teacher from earlier. To his credit, he looked slightly perplexed.
It's nothing he told herself; she's just congratulating him on his speech. But then she saw the teacher's hand laid on his arm, and her thoughts changed completely. Before she knew it she was walking over towards them, without a plan in her head as to what she would do when she reached them.
The teacher turned to her when she approached, and gave her a frown.
"We're having a conversation- it would be rude to interrupt." Her hand never left his arm.
"I can see that. But there's a phone call for Dr Clarkson." She looked meaningfully at him.
"I didn't hear the phone ring. Are you sure-" the teacher tried to continue.
"It's his wife." The words were out before Isobel could stop them, but to her delight they had the desired effect. The teacher's mouth formed an 'o', and she hastily let go of Clarkson's arm.
Seizing his freedom, he left the room, and Isobel followed him, but only after shooting a reproachful glance at the teacher.
. . . . .
They met, ironically, by the telephone. Clarkson held his hat in his hands, and was looking down at it. He looked up when Isobel approached.
"I apologise. I didn't know she was-"
"I know." Isobel cut him off. She took one of his hands in hers. "I know you wouldn't do that."
"Thank you for your faith in me." He replied solemnly, then caught sight of the telephone. His eyes lit up.
"You recall all those times I knocked you over while trying to get to the telephone?"
"I do." Isobel replied, smiling. She could see where this was going.
"It wasn't entirely an accident." He looked at her expectantly.
"My dear doctor- you don't think I was there by accident do you?" She gave a laugh.
"I thought it was simply lucky coincidence." He paused, before continuing. "As a governor, you will be expected to stay for the dance, correct?"
Isobel nodded. "And as the guest speaker, so will you."
"I see. Would you care to accompany me to the hall?"
"I would."
They headed back to the hall, leaving the telephone behind them and the ambulance just visible through the window.
How was that? If you have time, please review, and if you have even more time, please check out the other stories in this series!
(And if you remember that bit in the 6th Harry Potter film with the luck potion, please substitute the word 'hall' for 'hut'.)