A Rift in the Fabric of Time

Chapter 11: Seeking Gainful Employment

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Bloody, insufferable rotter. And Jamie had to ask why I had no connections with the Catholic Church? I stormed out of her office, cursing under my breath. Miss Frizzy, or Turley, or whatever the hell her name was, waved while I streaked on by. No wonder she was such a sour grape, having to associate with the undisputed Queen of Mercy.

I sailed through the hallways, with my head bowed. Just before reaching the lift, I literally bumped into a man clad in white. I peered up at him, and he blinked at me in recognition. "Claire?" he said.

"Dr. Tanner ..."

His eyebrows shot up. "This is a pleasant surprise. I haven't seen you since we collaborated during the war. Are you working here?"

"Not bloody likely."

"With your experience and skills? I don't understand; they need nurses here. Why would anyone be foolish enough not to hire you?"

"Her worship, the Mother Superior, says I'd be a taint on the pristine reputation of the staff. I'm going through divorce proceedings, and apparently, everyone here is either blissfully married, or single, and pure as the driven snow."

The good doctor chuckled. "I'm divorced myself, and thankfully, the old witch has nothing to say about it. I submit to a higher authority."

His eyes darted to the door of the lift. "I wish I could chat with you a little longer, but I should get back to the clinic. Why don't you come with me? It's just right around the corner."

He frowned in concentration. "Wait ... here's a clever idea ... let's have a bash at the Mother Superior, shall we? How would you like to be my assistant at the clinic?

That should make her repent of her decision."

"Oh, Dr. Tanner, that would be lovely."

"Claire, we've known each other far too long to be formal. Please ... call me, Geoffrey."

My feet began to feel lighter as we walked out to his vehicle and to the new job awaiting me. What a fortuitous turn of events.

# # # # #

I watched mo nighean donn walk away, and felt a heavy weight in my chest. It was a foolish fear I kent, to be sure, but my heart was still uneasy. I turned, trudgin' along the road wi' a hope to procure honorable employment. Scairt I was, as Claire might havta pay our way, and that fact was verra shameful to me. I could no be a drone. I'd worked all my life and I'd be damned afore I let my woman keep me. How could I hold my head op, if I didna earn my own bread?

A good forty minutes or so passed I expect, afore I spotted farmland spread 'bout the land on either side o' the road. I didna ken which farm bore the MacGregor name, so I searched high and low for some sign o' horse corrals and such. The first one I set foot on, hadna any stables, nor the next one neither. So, I kept on, eyes sharp, and nose as weel. Bein' near horses since a wee bairn, the smell o' them was verra familiar to me, e'en comfortin', ye might say.

There was nary a sign o' horseflesh amongst the followin' two, but I did see that some o' the farms had a number o' cattle, and I memorized the names above the gates in the event as MacGregor hadna need o' my help. My period o'cattle rustlin' was no some o' my proudest moments, but it did give me a bit of experience, aye?

As I was ruminatin' over my less than illustrious thievin' days, a young lad approached me; a big dog by his side, barkin' as loud as ye please. The boy waved his hand at the beast and yelled, "Quiet, Brutus."