The Summer of Sir Lancelot (21 page)

‘And here are your sleeping pills, Sir Lancelot,‘ she was telling him brightly. ‘You‘re first on the list tomorrow morning,‘ she added gaily. ‘And now I‘m going off duty for a lovely cold swim in the baths. Night night!‘

Sir Lancelot grunted. He placed the two shiny bright blue capsules on his locker. The Professor hadn‘t yet done his round, and he wanted to keep a clear head.

He reached for a magazine brought him by the redheaded nurse. He was becoming quite interested in the story of a young woman in love with her doctor, when the door opened.

‘I just looked in to see if you were absolutely comfortable, Lancelot,‘ announced Professor Hindehead smoothly from the threshold. ‘This time tomorrow it will be all over. I don‘t suppose for one moment we shall find anything in the slightest alarming, shall we, Paul?‘

‘I‘m quite certain we won‘t,‘ agreed Paul Ivors-Smith behind him. ‘Please come in.‘ Sir Lancelot tossed the magazine aside. ‘Come along now,‘ he added firmly. ‘Kindly sit down.‘ He indicated the foot of his bed. ‘I want a word with you, Dicky. And you, Paul,‘ he added, as the Registrar was slipping away. ‘The Unit has been doing some important work on a new steroid, I hear?‘

The Professor nodded. ‘Yes, and it‘s been extremely interesting. Though Paul here earns most of the credit.‘

‘And I gather the results will shortly be apparent?‘

The Professor gave his smooth smile. ‘The somewhat elephantine pregnancy is coming to an end, I‘m glad to say. Though I‘m afraid we can‘t let you view the baby yet - you know those rather tedious regulations about the Research Council publishing first.‘

‘The United Drug Company, of course, put up the money?‘

Professor Hindehead shrugged his shoulders under his white coat. ‘I think that‘s an open secret.‘

Sir Lancelot put his fingertips together. ‘You had some shares in United Drug, Dicky?‘

‘My dear Lancelot!‘ He laughed briefly. ‘You really can‘t ask me to remember such things. I have absolutely no head for business. Possibly I once had one or two.‘

‘You had more than one or two, and you sold them yesterday.‘

‘Really, Lancelot!‘ The Professor‘s smooth cheek went pink, i must say, prying into my private affairs is a bit thick.‘

‘You know the news that your steroid is in fact useless was leaked to the City?‘ Sir Lancelot persisted.

‘You can‘t expect me to keep such things as secret as the atom bomb.‘ The Professor for once looked ruffled. ‘Possibly one of the technicians or a houseman let the cat out of the bag. Our last resident was a pretty shifty piece of work. What on earth are you making so much fuss for?‘ he complained, if a few people in the City have lost some money, they can well afford it. It‘s not a matter of importance to the hospital.‘

Sir Lancelot tugged his beard. ‘On the contrary, it is a matter of the utmost importance to the hospital. I have information that a complete copy of your typewritten report was in the office of Ivors-Smith, Hardcastle, and Potter in Moorgate by last night.‘

Paul looked up.

‘I can explain that quite easily—‘

‘I can save you the bother,‘ snapped Sir Lancelot. ‘You decided to line your pocket with the tatters of your professional honour.‘

Paul bit his lip. ‘Well, I — I admittedly had rather a lot of shares. My... my wife didn‘t see why we should lose the money.‘

‘This is all rather inconsequential, Lancelot.‘ The Professor rose to go. ‘You are making a mountain out of a molehill.‘

‘Out ot a dunghill,‘ Sir Lancelot corrected him. ‘The respect we receive in our profession must be nourished with our own self-discipline. We must labour under a stricter ethical code than the public at large. Anyone breaking it lets down not only his colleagues but his forebears who painfully built up the status of the modern doctor. Such a person, to my mind, is not fit to be a member of the profession.‘

‘Oh come,‘ objected the Professor, edging towards the door. ‘You‘re quite out of proportion, Lancelot. A doctor‘s entitled to be a human being. We‘re not a collection of saints.‘

‘I agree. I will qualify my remark. Such a person is not fit to be on the consultant staff of a distinguished hospital.‘

‘Uncle Lancelot!‘ cried Euphemia from the window. ‘Help!‘

‘Great Scott!‘ Sir Lancelot leapt out of bed and caught her. ‘What on earth‘s the matter, girl?‘

‘Quick!‘ The Professor pushed Paul into the corridor. ‘Let‘s get out of this.‘

‘Have you been in an accident?‘ Sir Lancelot demanded anxiously.

‘I - I‘ve had a terrible experience, Uncle.‘ She buried her tousled head in his pyjamas and burst into tears. ‘It was awful!‘ He produced the yellow silk handkerchief. ‘That dreadful man!‘

‘The white-car feller?‘

Euphemia nodded tearfully. ‘The damage is quite irreparable.‘

‘What!‘

‘To my dress,‘ she explained.

‘The villain is not in pursuit, I trust?‘

‘I -1 don‘t think so, Uncle. I left him unconscious.‘

‘Did you, by George? Good girl!‘ exclaimed Sir Lancelot warmly. ‘But I think you had better sneak back to your room before someone comes and catches — ‘

‘Sir Lancelot!‘ Tim Tolly burst in without knocking. ‘Effie!‘ he gasped. ‘Oh, Tim, darling!‘ wailed Euphemia, transferring her custom to Tim‘s chest and breaking into tears all over again. ‘Oh, Tim! I love you so much.‘

‘Good grief,‘ muttered Sir Lancelot. ‘What premedication for an operation!‘

‘Uncle!‘ Euphemia‘s blue eyes widened amid the smudged bronze. ‘You‘re walking.‘

Sir Lancelot looked in surprise at his feet. ‘So I am,‘ he exclaimed confusedly.

‘Effie, my love,‘ murmured Tim into her hair. ‘You are so wonderful. It was all psychosomatic,‘ he added to Sir Lancelot. ‘Think back, and you‘ll find it only came on in moments of stress.‘

‘Dammit boy! Are you implying I‘m a nut case?‘

‘No, only a hysteric. Effie, my sweet,‘ Tim continued, ‘what on earth has happened to you?‘

i might inform you that wasn‘t the diagnosis of a Professor of Surgery,‘ Sir Lancelot told him briskly.

‘Good lord, one should never send back pains to
surgeons.
But Sir Lancelot — !‘ He collected himself, i‘ve got Mr Chadwick in the car outside.‘

Sir Lancelot‘s brows furrowed.

‘I - I‘m afraid I‘ve made a bit of a boob,‘ Tim confessed, still holding Huphemia. ‘All summer I‘ve diagnosed a straightforward hypochromic anaemia, but it was only tonight I suspected he‘s bleeding into his gut. He‘s looking pretty poorly at the moment, poor chap. I‘d come along to implore advice — ‘

Sir Lancelot chucked the sleeping pills into the dressing bin.

‘Take the case into casualty,‘ he commanded.

‘Yes, sir.‘

‘Tell private block theatre to stand by. It may possibly be needed.‘

‘Yes, sir.‘

‘You‘ve grouped the blood? Good. See if the Senior Resident Anaesthetist is on duty.‘

‘Yes, sir.‘

‘And tuck that young woman up in bed.‘

‘Yes, sir.‘

i must just scribble a line to the Chairman of Governors — ‘ he reached for Nikki‘s sheet of writing paper. ‘By the way,‘ he broke off, i don‘t suppose you know if Midsummer Madness came home at Newmarket this afternoon?‘

‘As a matter of fact, I noticed it in the paper, sir. At thirty-three to one.‘ Sir Lancelot did a quick calculation on the corner of the paper. ‘Five hundred pounds at thirty-three to one makes sixteen thousand five hundred.‘ He rubbed his hands. ‘Things are looking up.‘

15

An old-fashioned Englishman out for a day‘s fishing needs a good deal of equipment, but this is no hindrance to the day‘s sport when carried a respectful five paces behind by his faithful gillie. Sir Lancelot‘s load was only his rod as he once again made his way down the familiar path among the brambles to Witches‘ Pool that warm and clear September morning.

‘There‘ll be a good few rising later on, mark my words,‘ he declared.

‘Wouldn‘t be surprised if we got a hatful,‘ agreed Crimes.

The pair stopped at the hawthorn bush.

‘I trust you will find this employment congenial, Crimes?‘ Sir Lancelot inquired.

‘Sir, I‘ll say a little prayer every night to my old governor what I chauffered — just to thank his soul for teaching me fishing.‘

‘I am glad you are well suited.‘

‘You know, it had always been my wish, sir, to end my days nice and quiet in the green of the country.‘ Crimes dropped the fishing gear and produced his matchstick. ‘And now I shall, sir. So shall we both, eh?‘ he added with a wink.

Sir Lancelot gaffed him with his eye.

‘Crimes, I appreciate your disappointment that I was not, after all, operated upon last month by the Professor. But I wish to make clear that I find our topic of mutual interest somewhat wearisome. So much so, that should you raise the matter again, even by your delicate implications, I shall automatically sack you on the spot.‘

‘Yes, sir. Very good, sir.‘

‘If you wish to make conversation, confine yourself to the fish.‘

‘As you say, sir.‘

‘And furthermore, you will chuck away that filthy matchstick. It has irritated me continually now for thirty years. Ah, Charles,‘ he broke off heartily, as another party approached along the bank.

‘What a splendid day to take up my rod again after the operation!‘ exclaimed Mr Chadwick, blinking behind his glasses.

‘I‘m sure we‘re in for good sport. ‘Morning, Millichap. You know my own new man, I suppose? I say, Charles, you‘re fishing double-barrelled today, or what?‘

‘The rod is for you.‘ Mr Chadwick reverently handed it over, i know how you admired it that afternoon in the shop. And after all, Tim Tolly tells me you saved my life.‘

‘But my dear fellow — ‘ protested Sir Lancelot modestly. He felt it would be nearer the mark to say he had saved Tim Tolly‘s skin.

‘It is considerate of them to fix the wedding after the season ends,‘ smiled Mr Chadwick. ‘We shall not lose a single day‘s fishing.‘

‘I unfortunately have to attend my other niece Felicity‘s blasted nuptials next week, but I‘m hoping for an hour on the water before leaving.‘

‘I‘m delighted we came to such an amicable agreement over this lovely Witches‘ Pool,‘ observed Mr Chadwick. ‘You own it, of course, my dear Lancelot,‘ he added hastily. ‘Quite indubitably. Informing my solicitors to that effect was my very first act after the operation. And how- much I appreciate your generosity, leasing me the fishing rights in perpetuity for nothing. I only hope my health will remain strong enough to enjoy it.‘

‘Of course it will, man,‘ Sir Lancelot told him bluffly. ‘Though when you‘re in town for Effie‘s wedding you might as well have a check-up. See Simon Sparrow in Harley Street - capital feller, on the staff of my own hospital. Great Scott!‘ He grabbed Mr Chadwick so fiercely he nearly broke an arm. ‘Did you see that one? Bigger than Percival, I‘d say. Have a go at it, Charles.‘

‘Oh, no, Lancelot. You saw it first. Your fish.‘

‘Rubbish, man! After all you‘ve been through you deserve a bit of fun. Ye gods! Look at the rise under the tree.‘

The two fishermen faced each other. Slowly a look of rapture crossed their faces. It crept on them that Witches‘ Pool, not having been fished all summer, was quivering with enormous and highly gullible trout.

‘Both together!‘ Sir Lancelot gave the battle cry.

‘Glad to see Surrey won the Championship again,‘ Crimes was observing as the two gillies settled to watch their employers from the shade of the hawthorn bush.

Millichap looked up. ‘You interested in cricket?‘

‘You bet I am, mate. Only thing that kept me going in London. The Oval‘s a second home to me.‘

‘Go on? I‘m dead keen on it myself. I‘d have given a month‘s pay to have seen that Saturday in the Lord‘s Test.‘

‘I was there, mate,‘ Crimes informed him proudly. ‘All afternoon. One of the St Swithin‘s doctors had a spare ticket. I saw Strongi‘th‘arm and Winterbottom, every ball of it.‘ Crimes made himself comfortable on the crisp bracken. ‘I remember like it was yesterday, Strongi‘th‘arm came in at the Pavilion end when England were fifty-four for two. Haggert had taken off Duffy a couple of overs before, and McGregor was on at the Nursery end trying to get a bit of turn out of the wicket with his left-arm leg spinners — ‘

‘I‘m on!‘ cried Sir Lancelot. ‘I‘ve got the brute!‘

So we come to the close of that bewitching, irritating, fascinating, frustrating feminine thing, an English summer. We leave one pair of gentlemen quietly fishing, and another pair contentedly discussing cricket. I really cannot imagine a happier ending.

Unless, it occurs to me alarmingly, you not only find cricket a frightful bore but aren‘t much interested in fishing either.

RICHARD GORDON

DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE

Richard Gordon‘s acceptance into St Swithin‘s medical school came as no surprise to anyone, least of all him — after all, he had been to public school, played first XV rugby, and his father was, let‘s face it, ‘a St Swithin‘s man‘. Surely he was set for life. It was rather a shock then to discover that, once there, he would actually have to work, and quite hard. Fortunately for Richard Gordon, life proved not to be all dissection and textbooks after all... This hilarious hospital comedy is perfect reading for anyone who‘s ever wondered exactly what medical students get up to in their training. Just don‘t read it on your way to the doctor‘s!