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nurse, Yona helped her onto the examination couch and took off the brace, revealing a thickened, swollen knee stuck in about twenty degrees of flexion.
    'You'd make an excellent nurse, Doctor,' Mike Preston murmured satirically as Yona resumed her place to one side to give the consultants room.
    'They teach attention to detail in rarefied Edinburgh,' she murmured back, but he gave no sign of having heard that. He was already palpating the patient's knee with sure and gentle hands.
    After the examination, he said gently, 'I'm very sorry if that was painful, Mrs Brown.' Then he studied the X-rays, before saying to Ted, 'No doubt about it—a replacement is the only answer.' Speaking to the patient again, he went on, 'You do realise, I hope, that replacing your knee joint is not an instant cure? There'll be weeks of hard work with the physios before you're really mobile again.'
    'I'm not afraid of hard work, Doctor,' Mrs Brown said hardily. 'If I had been, happen I'd not have worn my bones out scrubbing. But I'll be damn glad to get rid of the pain— if you'll excuse the language.'
    He smiled at her in a friendly way Yona hadn't supposed him capable of. 'Professor Burnley tells me you've already made a good start by losing some weight, so I'm sure you'll do just fine. I'll put your name on the list and get you in as soon as I can. I'm sorry I can't give you a definite date, but accidents and emergencies play havoc with our waiting lists.'
    'Get me fixed up before Wakes Week, and that'll do me,' Mrs Brown responded cheerfully when Yona had replaced her support and helped her to stand up.
    'Please, what is Wakes Week?' asked Yona when the patient had gone.
    'A throwback to the days of the Lancashire cotton mills,' explained Ted. 'They all used to shut down for the same week in July, and the towns were totally quiet, with all who could afford it going off to places like Blackpool and Morecambe. Is there nothing like that in Scotland?'
    'Oh, yes! In Glasgow, they still talk about the Fair Fortnight—also in July. In bygone days, the shipyard workers would go 'doon the watter'—that is, down the Clyde on the steamers to all the little seaside resorts.'
    'Trust the Scots to go one better and have two weeks off,' observed Mike Preston.
    'Yes, superiority will out,' returned Yona smoothly.
    Ted said he hoped he wasn't going to have a rerun of Bannockburn on his hands and how about getting in the next patient?
    Five more potential candidates for surgery came and went, all receiving the same meticulous assessment. 'How often are these clinics held?' asked Yona while they were waiting for the famous Senga Taggart.
    'Once a month,' both consultants said together.
    'Why?' asked Mike.
    'I was thinking that if they were any more frequent, you must have a very long waiting list. However—'
    'I have,' he said. 'I get plenty of direct referrals from GPs as well.' He was looking at his watch and frowning. 'Surely Senga should be here by now? I'm due in Theatre in fifteen minutes. I wonder what can have—?' He broke off when a thunderous knock on the door was promptly followed by the lady herself.
    She was obviously a great favourite with both men. 'It's good to see you after so long, Senga,' said Ted.
    'And looking so well, too.' That was Mike's contribution.
    She accepted that as no less than her due and she asked, before either of them could introduce Yona, 'So, who's the lassie, then?'
    Ted did the honours. 'Meet our new colleague, Dr MacFarlane. She's a fellow countrywoman of yours.'
    'Is that so?' she responded. 'Then she'll be richt guid at her job. Whaur are ye from, hen?'
    'I'm Edinburgh born and bred, Mrs Taggart,' said Yona with a smile.
    'I'm frae Glasgow myself,' responded Senga with a definite air of one-upmanship. 'Have ye telt them the auld saying yet, Doctor?'
    'Not yet, but I can guess the one you mean.' Yona turned to the men. 'If you were to drop in around teatime in Glasgow, they'd say, "I'll just put on the kettle," but in