‘Hi,’ said Carly.
Dr Cooper turned around to look at her. ‘Oh, you’re awake. I hope you don’t mind coming back into town with me. I found you asleep in my carriage when I came back from seeing my patient and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.’
‘I don’t mind,’ said Carly. ‘How did the operation go?’
‘Which operation?’
‘The appendix operation. The one you did on the dining table.’
‘Oh - that? Dr Cooper looked surprised. ‘Back in 1891? That was over three years ago!’
Carly was confused. How did I skip forward three years? She drew the shawl back up over her shoulders. Then an idea came to her. When she had fainted, the shawl hadn’t come off - but it had slipped down to her waist. By almost coming off, it had sent her forwards in time - but only a few years.
‘It went well,’ Dr Cooper said. ‘The girl was cured.’
‘Great,’ Carly said, and she meant it.
They drove on for a while in silence. The carriage seats were padded but the road was so bumpy that Carly felt as if her teeth were rattling. They seemed to be out in the country. It was hot and muggy. The layers of petticoat and the long sleeves and corset and the shirt buttoned right up to her throat didn’t help.
‘Ugh,’ Carly said. ‘These clothes are so uncomfortable.’
Dr Cooper glanced at her with a small smile. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘Why do women have to wear all this stupid gear?’
Dr Cooper chuckled. She had a deep, hearty laugh. ‘You know, I often wonder the same thing.’
‘Well, you should stop wearing these silly dresses. Wear something more comfortable, like trousers.’
‘ Trousers!’ Dr Cooper looked at Carly as if Carly had just told her to bite the head off a chicken. ‘Good heavens! Imagine the gossip!’ Then she barked with laughter. ‘No, I can’t do that. I’ve had enough trouble getting people in Brisbane to take me seriously as it is. Imagine what they would say if I wore trousers!’
‘Do people still not like having a lady doctor?’ Carly asked. ‘Even after they’ve seen how good you are?’
‘Well, that’s kind of you to say so,’ the doctor replied. ‘There are some people who still don’t like it. But, no - mostly, people have got used to the idea. I’ve got lots of patients: enough to keep me busy in my own practice. They’re mostly children and women. I’ve delivered more babies than you could imagine!’
‘Well, I’m glad they realise that being a woman doesn’t make you a bad doctor. That was a stupid idea.’
‘I know. Even the male doctors are starting to accept me. You know what? Last year they even let me join the Medical Society of Queensland. The first woman ever!’
‘That’s great!’
Dr Cooper chuckled and muttered to herself, ‘Trousers!’
‘I don’t see what’s so funny about wearing trousers,’ Carly said crossly. She wore shorts most of the summer and jeans in winter. ‘Trousers are practical.’
‘I dare say they are,’ Dr Cooper said, still laughing. ‘Though I’ve never tried them.’
‘Well, you should. And you should get your friends to do the same.’
‘As a matter of fact,’ Dr Cooper went on, ‘I’ve been thinking the same thing. Not about trousers - I’m not that much of a trouble maker! But you’re right; women should be taught not to wear these silly clothes - not just for the sake of fashion. It’s not healthy.’
‘Well, what are you going to do about it? You’re the doctor. You’re supposed to look after people’s health.’
Dr Cooper thought quietly for a moment. Then she said, ‘You’re right. Queensland women dress like the British because it’s the fashion. It’s crazy when you think about how much hotter it is in Queensland. But they don’t want to change because they’re afraid of being laughed at. People don’t like to stand out. They don’t like to be different.’
Carly thought about this. Dr Cooper was right, of course. She thought about how dowdy she had felt in her ‘woop-woop’ shorts and t-shirt beside trendy Simone in her skinny jeans and platform shoes. Then she thought of her friend Dora, who wore loud, mismatched clothes and ankle boots and red-rimmed glasses. Dora didn’t care about fashion and wasn’t afraid to stand out. How Carly missed her.
‘But what they don’t realise,’ Dr Cooper went on, ‘is how unhealthy some fashions can be. Look at corsets—’
‘I hate corsets!’
‘Me too. They’re not only uncomfortable; they’re harmful too. They squeeze all of the organs out of place. If you must wear one—’
‘I’d rather not—’
‘—then it should have as few bones as possible, hang from the shoulders by straps, and not be laced too tightly.’
‘OK.’
‘And hats!’
‘What about them?’
‘Well, the fashion for bonnets ... ’ Dr Cooper frowned at the top of Carly’s head. Carly put a hand to her head and discovered that she was wearing a lacy bonnet with frills forming a half-circle around her face. ‘Well, bonnets are foolish. They give no protection from the hot Queensland sun. Is it any wonder that so many ladies get headaches? No! Sensible, wide-brimmed hats are what we need.’
‘Gosh,’ said Carly. ‘You have lots of ideas. You should tell people.’
‘You know what?’ Dr Cooper said. She flushed with excitement. ‘I think I will. I will give a series of lectures on that very subject. I will call it The Hygiene of Dress.’
‘Good for you,’ said Carly.
They were driving into the outskirts of town. Houses and carriages and people started to appear.
‘Whoah!’ Dr Cooper shouted so suddenly that Carly jumped.
‘What?’
‘Over there,’ she replied, pointing with her whip. ‘Those boys.’
She was pointing to a pair of boys up ahead on the side of the road. One of the boys - a tall, heavy teenager - was yelling and pushing the smaller boy around. Dr Cooper’s mouth set into an angry line. She cracked her whip and the horses took off in a canter. Carly clutched her hat and shrieked as the carriage lurched
