‘Not long, just passing through for the night,’ she replied, feeling utterly exhausted by the slow journey from Dumfries. The train had stopped at every station, from sad memories of Gretna and Carlisle to hill halts on windswept Cumberland moors to country stations amongst rivers and wooded valleys. At each screech of the brakes she just wanted to rush off the train and go back home but her limbs were strangely disobedient to her will. All the energy had drained from her. In her eyes was a picture of baby waving her off with his pudgy hand. Rage burned inside her head. If anyone else had told her that it was all for the best that she should go south and find herself work, she would have hit them.

Dr Begg had arranged for her to stay at some temporary hostel near Leeds. She even had Vida Bloom’s old letter in her hand with her last address, the one ‘kent’ face she could find in a foreign land. There was a regular train service northwards and it was promised she could come back anytime to measure baby’s progress. Peg was full of smiles and Father was generosity itself, putting enough money in her Post Office account to tide her over until she found work.

As the train rattled over the bleak Yorkshire moors and the sky grew grey and dark, so her spirits sank deeper into hopeless despair. What was the point? After sea and shore, hills and streams, this dark industrial landscape of exile sapped the last of her confidence. There was only one thing left to do and once the thought pushed its way into her head, her feet sprang into action and she jumped out of the train at the first busy station.

*

‘Mrs Hunter, Doctor will see you now.’ A loud voice interrupted her thoughts. Netta shuffled down the hall passage, sniffing the surgical spirits and hospital smells of Park Royal again. She entered a small room on the right that was dimly lit by a lamp. It was difficult to focus on the man sitting at the desk in his crumpled tweed jacket. All she could see were the dark pools of his eyes watching her. She shoved her trembling hands into her coat pockets and sat down, averting her own eyes.

‘How can I help you?’ His voice much to her surprise was foreign, cultured but with a curious Scottish lilt. She looked up but the light dazzled her eyes.

‘I can’t sleep, Doctor, I need something to help me to sleep.’

‘I see. You’re not one of my regulars, are you? What part of Scotland are you from? I trained in Glasgow, it’s a beautiful country.’ She bent her head and muttered.

‘From the south, Galloway… but I’ve come visiting and don’t want to disturb my hosts. If you could just give me something to tide me over…’