Ellen wrinkled her nose. “Just. We’re rushed off our feet from dawn till dusk, but I don’t really mind. The work keeps me from being homesick. What about you?”
“The lectures are wonderful. I’ve always wanted this, time to read and learn and just think. It feels such a luxury.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I feel a bit guilty, leaving everyone at home...”
“They want the best for you,” Ellen protested, and Lucas glanced down at his tea, his expression turning brooding.
“I know, but sometimes I wonder if it’s the best for them.”
Ellen thought of Jed and Mr. Lyman, both working so hard on the farm, especially after the flooding of a few years ago. The farming life was never an easy one, the work constant and endlessly demanding. “Somehow I don’t think Jed would trade places with you,” she teased, and Lucas gave her a half-smile.
“No indeed. But it’s hard not to feel guilty when I’m enjoying myself so much.”
“And the university fees, I suppose,” Ellen said, and then could have bitten her tongue. As if Lucas needed reminding that his education was costing his family! Besides, the Lymans didn’t have to worry about money the way the McCaffertys or even Ellen herself did.
“Yes, it is quite a sacrifice,” he said tonelessly, and Ellen reached over to touch his hand.
“I’m sorry, Lucas. I didn’t mean to sound as if—”
“It’s not you, Ellen.” He patted her hand awkwardly. “It’s me. The truth is I feel guilty and selfish for coming to university while Jed’s toiling away at home, even though I know it’s exactly what he wants.” He stared unseeingly into the distance, the sound of the other tearoom patrons a soothing murmur in the background. “Jed could have gone to university if he chose.”
“Do you really think so? How would your father have coped with the two of you gone?” Once again Ellen cursed her thoughtlessness. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that university had never really been a choice for Jed, not the way it was for Lucas.
Lucas’ face, usually so open and smiling, hardened briefly. “My father can afford to hire a man, Ellen, or even two. Or a woman to help in the house! He just doesn’t want to, because Jed’s willing to do it all for free, and work himself to the bone in the process. I won’t do that. I have other things in mind for my life.”
Ellen could only nod, taking a sip of tea, her mind spinning. She didn’t like the implacable note in Lucas’ voice, as if he were warning her. Did he never want to return to the island? “Tell me about university,” she finally said, and seeming as eager as she was to lighten the mood, Lucas was soon regaling her with tales of the Freshers’ Week at Queen’s and the many antics he and his classmates got up to in between their lectures.
“Have you managed to do any drawing?” Lucas asked when the tea things were cleared.
Ellen thought of the sketchbooks and charcoals in the trunk at the foot of her bed, untouched since she’d arrived. There had been plenty of subjects in the hospital, stored in her head, aching to be released on paper. There had simply been no time or energy.
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t had a moment.”
Lucas frowned. “You need to, Ellen. That’s as important as breathing to you.”
“Yes, well, I’ve managed without breathing for the last fortnight then,” Ellen said with a touch of asperity. He smiled wryly in acknowledgement.
“I never understood why you didn’t try for art school. There’s a good one in Toronto or even New York. You could have gone a hundred different places. You have the talent—”
“If only I had wings,” Ellen said lightly, for she didn’t want to dredge up the uncomfortable topics of money or ambition with Lucas. He wouldn’t understand the need to be independent, to have financial security. To not be a burden. She could hardly swan off and do a course that had no useful purpose, all on someone else’s bank account.
Besides, a little voice whispered inside her heart, what if I'm no good?
Ellen didn’t listen to that voice, instead inquiring brightly after Lucas’ lectures and the people he’d met. He was happy to regale her with several more tales, and the rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly enough.
The Nurses’ Home was half in shadow when Lucas finally walked her home. Ellen knew she’d been gone too long, and hoped she would not suffer the sharp edge of Superintendent Cothill’s tongue, or worse, for it.
“You’ll keep writing me, won’t you, Ellen?” Lucas asked as he took her to the door. “I can take you out whenever you’ve a day off. If you’ve an evening free, we could even take in a play or a concert.”
“You don’t want to spend all your spare time with me,” Ellen protested.
“Oh, but I do,” Lucas assured her, his tone so low and heartfelt that Ellen felt a frisson of both excitement and alarm.
“I’ll write soon,” she promised and this time without kissing his cheek, she hurried inside, her thoughts tumbling and whirling inside her head.
The days at the hospital were long, yet they passed in a blur for Ellen never felt as if she had a moment to catch her breath. She soon became used to the barked orders of the attending physicians, and kept her head meekly bowed as she changed sheets or bathed a patient.
The patients, for the most part, Ellen discovered, were kind; she encountered a few crusty termagants but in general she found she preferred patients to doctors or senior nurses. Amity and Harriet had both become good friends; Amity hated nursing and was clearly miserable while Harriet possessed a burning vocation that Ellen envied, for the truth was she didn’t know what she felt about nursing, and she was afraid she felt closer to Amity’s despair than Harriet’s passion.
“Why don’t you just quit?” Ellen asked one evening as they sat in the cozy parlor of the Nurses’ Home. Amity was glumly repairing a tear on the sleeve of her uniform; to leave it could result in, as