There was a polite nod, as he explained that it was more of an experiment than work. She was, however, a bit too distracted to answer anything more on that as he lead her through the building. Taking in all the sights of the plants and foliage that surrounded them, Murphie was truly in awe. There were so many, and quiet a few of them seemed so out of place for the town – too vivid in their colours, and she found herself curious about those, most of all. But now was not the time for that. She had come here with a purpose, and the man was being gracious enough to hear her out.
“It is a pleasure t'meet you as well, Alan.” She had to smile a little at his words. Yes, she knew the lecture about being proper all too well. It seemed as though her very profession should have not been one for a lady, as it was rough on the hands. But she didn’t mind. And someone had to take over the shop when her father…
Swallowing hard, Murphie tried to bring herself back into the moment. Watching Alan save a few clippings from whatever it was that he’d been trying to accomplish before she had arrived. Licking her lips slowly, she nodded a little, trying to make sure she could give all the details to him, in hopes of bettering the condition.
“T'e cough is t'e worst bit.” She started, wringing her hands together idly, shaking her head even as she thought about it. “S'a deep sort o'cough, right deep in t'e chest – he can’ catch a breath. Barely can stand uprigh’ when he gets to it.” Her voice was soft, laced with obvious worry. Even if there wasn’t anything to be done to heal her father… surely there was something to ease that pain from him. At least, she hoped so. “Oh, aye. T'ey have come t'our house several times, an’ it’s always t'e same.”
Alan thought he saw of flash of concern over his experiment gone awry. Should he try to reassure the woman? Would that be too blatant? Although he still attended his mother’s parties when she begged him, he wasn’t up on all of the social niceties - the dos and don’ts. Would it be forward of him to say he’d noticed her discomfort? Probably. Best not to mention it. He didn’t want to offend Ms. MacManus so terribly that she left without him at least attempting to help her father.
“Thin…coughing…possibly blood…” Alan wrote quickly. “And nothing more than broth and tea. Hmm…that would explain the thinness most like. We need to make sure he’s getting all of his nutrients and vitamins when he eats…and the sooner the better. Recovery can be made all the more difficult when the body isn’t feeling fit. I believe I can make a powder…it will be slightly bitter, but that can’t be helped. You can mix it in with anything liquid. It’s not a cure…not yet. For that, I think I’ll need a sample of your father’s blood.”
Closing his battered journal, a soft exclamation left his lips as several pages fell out and fluttered to the floor. Stopping to retrieve them, he stood back up with a sheepish expression. “I believe I offered you tea, yes? Right this way. I promise I do have an actual home here…the kitchen isn’t quite as surrounded by greenery.” Smiling again, the scientist, motioned for Murphie to follow him. “I can deliver the nutrient powder tomorrow at any time you’d like. And perhaps I could take the blood I need while I’m there? I need to examine it…test it against a few medicines I’ve mixed in the past…study its make-up, and the like.”
It was alright, whatever his experiment was. That was his business... and while, yes, it gave Murphie some pause, it was not enough to deter her from getting help from Alan. So far, even the experiment aside, he'd been kind in listening to her plight - she wasn't a fool enough to walk away now.
Chewing nervously on the side of her thumb as he wrote down the symptoms, Murphie chided herself inwardly. Even in nerves, she wasn't being very ladylike. Forcing herself to drop her hand, posture straightening a bit, as she waited for him to finish up his notes, she perked up a bit, when Alan spoke once more. Already, he had some kind of start - perhaps not a solution, but it was at least something different from what the doctors had been trying.
"His blood?" It wasn't so much of a question, but a soft whisper in affirmation. Right. Well, if Alan was to come by to see her father, and hopefully help, there would be no keeping it a secret from the older man. No doubt Noah would try to wave off help, not wanting to be a burden.... But Murphie couldn't let him die like this. Much less live like this. Even if it wasn't a cure, she wanted to find some kind of comfort for him in all of this. "I-I can certainly mix it well, t'at won' be an issue." The redhead assured Alan, offering him a slight smile and nod.
"Mus' be nice ta have all t'is greenery, though." She mused a bit, following him towards the kitchen. "Nearly as green as back home." Or, at least, as green as it had been in her memories. It'd been years since she saw the rolling hills of the countryside. For all she knew, it was just as worn down as the cities now. "Aye, t'ank ye. T'at would be wonderful. I..." She paused, thinking hard, "We're at t'e ol' leather shoppe. S'open most o' t'e day. I've been runnin' it, hopin' ta let him rest upstairs." Her eyes fell to his journal, busted, papers easily escaping... now that was an idea, wasn't it? There was plenty of leather to work with at the shoppe, and it sure did beat trying to scrape money together that she really didn't have to pay him. Perhaps an exchange of services instead?
