Doctor On The Brain (17 page)

‘Nothing special. Just one of you and I as kids with our mother and father. We needn’t have kept it, really, except for sentimental reasons.’

‘He knows we’re brother and sister?’

‘It wouldn’t take a man like him long to latch on to
that
.’

‘I suppose it’ll be all round St Swithin’s by tomorrow?’

‘No, I don’t think so. He’ll keep his part of the bargain. He’s a bastard, but a fair bastard.’

She sat on the edge of the easy chair. ‘So we’re to move?’

‘I’d no alternative, had I? You don’t blame me, Gissie, do you?’

‘Of course not, Cedric. In a way it’ll be a challenge for you.’

‘It’s a challenge, all right. I can only hope I’ll be rather more successful than my predecessors.’

‘I’m sure you’ll be, Cedric. You’re much cleverer,’

‘At least we’ll be together, won’t we?’

‘That’s the important thing.’

‘Perhaps we should kill off Mr Tennant? Make you a lovely young widow?’

‘Perhaps we should. But I could hardly revert to my maiden name, could I?’ She gave a wan smile. ‘I’d better cut that old name-tape from my tennis shoe, before anyone else noses about.’

‘At least
some
good’s come out of all this. I managed to slip my scheme for these three houses through the hospital committee last night, entirely because the dean and Sir Lancelot were otherwise somewhat heavily engaged. It’s an absolute disgrace, hospital property being used for the medical staff’s living accommodation, when there’s such a shortage of psychiatric beds. As the leases fall vacant, the houses will be put to good use housing psychopathic youths from the East End. If we get on with our packing, they should start moving in here within a couple of weeks. Now will you get me my violin, Gissie? I really feel that I need a little Mozart.’

‘Lancelot!’

Sir Lancelot had just stepped out of No 1 into the bright midday sunshine. He turned to see the dean skipping hatless round the corner. ‘I say, dean, are you all right now?’

‘Splendid. Wonderful. Never been better. I’m having a baby.’

‘So I gathered. Congratulations.’

‘Come inside. I’ve got some champagne in the fridge.’

They went into No 2. The dean at last pulled the champagne cork and he poured the wine into a pair of glasses in his sitting-room.

‘How’s Josephine?’ asked Sir Lancelot.

‘Having a little lie-down at St Swithin’s. Got to take life very carefully, you know. Though I’m sure everything’s going to be all right. After all, she’s still quite young, compared with me.’ The dean gave a laugh. ‘Looking back now, I must have been blind and deaf these last four days. Josephine took her specimen bottle to that rather awful fellow Winterflood early on Monday morning, with the excuse that she had to visit the physiotherapy department at St Swithin’s about her back. She almost dropped dead when she ran into Muriel in the corridor immediately afterwards – I suppose poor Muriel didn’t suspect anything, because she had enough on her own mind at the time. Then in the evening Josephine went to collect the result, telling me she’d gone to post a letter in the box outside St Swithin’s. The duplicity of women!’ he said gaily.

‘No wonder Mata Hari got away with it for so long.’

‘But why didn’t Josephine just tell you she suspected she was in pod?’

‘She thought I might say she was being stupid, unless she could produce firm evidence. I can’t understand what put that idea in her head. Though of course, I should have made the diagnosis myself. She suddenly developed longings – for asparagus and plovers’ eggs, of all things. The next day she had morning sickness, but I put it down to gastritis. And she had a peculiar emotional outburst about Frankie Humble. Still, I never was very brilliant at midwifery. To tell the truth, I thought it rather too messy, and the hours were terrible.’

‘I hope it’ll be another boy.’

‘So do I.’ The dean raised his glass. ‘It all happened on
your
champagne, Lancelot. Well, well. Fancy that doing the trick. What brand was it? It might do to get in a case or two.’

‘So you’re pleased?’

‘Delighted. In fact, it’s saved my life. Absolutely saved it. I don’t know if you noticed, but recently a certain melancholy has been coming over me…a certain sense of futility, of uselessness…of all my dreams and ambitions being fulfilled, and of it all perhaps hardly having been worth the trouble.’

‘That the world was your oyster, but it had turned out a bad one?’

‘Precisely. I had unpleasant physical symptoms, too. Fear of approaching dissolution. Not uncommon in men of our age, I’m sure? But now they’ve all gone. Flown! I have something to look forward to in life, someone to replace my other two children, who have gone off into the world. It’s really most thrilling.’

‘Could be twins, of course.’

‘Good God, I never thought of that.’ The dean swallowed his champagne quickly. ‘I actually consulted Bonaccord about my mental state, you know. I don’t think he really understood my case.’

‘He’s leaving Lazar Row.’

‘Really? He said nothing to me.’

‘And St Swithin’s. He’s taking another post. Vice-chancellor of Hampton Wick University.’

‘Lancelot! How did you manage–’

‘I have my methods, dean.’

‘How splendid! I shan’t be sorry to lose him as a neighbour. Though I must admit, his secretary decorates the street a bit. I wonder who’ll move in?’

‘It’s a matter of indifference to me.’

‘We want someone congenial, surely?’

‘I shall be moving out.’

‘Oh, come…’

‘My dear dean, I suffered an intense phobia of Miss MacNish’s cats. Bonaccord cured it overnight by making me pretend to myself they were little gurgling babies. I assure you that if I saw a baby now I should shake like an aspen and run like a hare. It is what, I believe, the psychiatric fraternity call “transference”.’

‘Perhaps you’ll find somewhere comfortable near your fishing?’ suggested the dean heartily. The notion of getting shot of Sir Lancelot as well as Bonaccord had a certain appeal. It would be pleasant to rid himself of the onions. ‘I shall stay on, of course. I have nowhere else I could possibly go. Muriel’s flat will become our nursery suite, once she’s married. I wonder who the hospital will put in your house? Doubtless they have plans for someone already.’ He finished his drink. ‘I’ll be sorry to lose your company, I must say, Lancelot. I mean that most sincerely.’

‘And I yours.’

‘At least it isn’t a permanent loss.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well…you’re not dying, or anything like that.’

Sir Lancelot eyed him narrowly. ‘Why should you say that?’

The dean looked uncomfortable. ‘May I say something, Lancelot, which you may find as embarrassing to hear as I to utter? Quite frankly – and I did not seek the task, not for one moment, it was thrust on me and 1 had to do my duty – I have been entrusted with the exercise – the onerous, I might say painful, exercise – of preparing your obituary notice.’

‘Don’t get so worried about it, cock. I’m doing yours.’

The dean’s mouth opened. ‘When were you asked?’

‘Monday morning.’

‘But so was I.’

‘Both been working hard, then, haven’t we?’

‘I found it incredibly difficult. I mean, to do you justice, Lancelot.’

‘I’m sure you did,’

‘Listen, Lancelot – it’s a horrible task, almost like performing a post-mortem on you–’

‘Thank you.’

‘Surely you must find it equally distasteful? Why don’t we both write our own? We can swap them, get them typed out, send them off to the editor, and no one will be any the wiser.’

‘I say, dean, what a capital idea. Quite the best you’ve had for some time.’

‘It’s a great relief, Particularly as I’ve got so many happy thoughts in my mind. Well, I must get back to Josephine at the hospital. She deserves all the care and attention I can possibly foster on her.’

They parted. Sir Lancelot opened the front door of his own house. He staggered backwards as a Great Dane leapt up, put its paws on his shoulders and started licking his face.

‘Oh, sir,’ said Miss MacNish fondly from inside the hall. ‘He likes you.’

Sir Lancelot struggled with his handkerchief. ‘Miss MacNish…quite so…as it happens, I am very fond of dogs.’

‘I’m sorry he’s so playful, sir. But he’s still only a puppy.’

‘Good God,’ muttered Sir Lancelot.

He shook off the animal. He mounted the stairs to his study. He drew towards him a blank pad of foolscap. He uncapped his fountain-pen. He wrote:

The tragic death yesterday of Sir Lancelot Spratt FRCS deprives the world of one of its greatest trout fishermen. He became a legend in his lifetime. There is a little-known story that he once landed a record rainbow trout of not less than fifteen pounds, to be deprived of it before its weight could be authenticated by a cruel accident…

At least, Sir Lancelot had a serene sense of values.

(in order of first publication)

These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

(in order of first publication)

(in order of first publication)

Published by House of Stratus

The Captain’s Table When William Ebbs is taken from a creaking cargo boat and made Captain of a luxury liner, he quickly discovers that the sea holds many perils…probably the most perilous being the first night dinner, closely followed by the dangers of finding a woman in his room. Then there is the embarrassing presence of the shipping company’s largest shareholder, a passenger over board and blackmail. The Captain’s Table is a tale of nautical misadventure and mayhem packed with rib-tickling humour. ‘An original humorist with a sly wit and a quick eye for the ridiculous’ – Queen

Doctor and Son Recovering from the realisation that his honeymoon was not quite as he had anticipated, Simon Sparrow can at least look forward to a life of tranquillity and order as a respectable homeowner with a new wife. But that was before his old friend Dr Grimsdyke took to using their home as a place of refuge from his various misdemeanours…and especially from the incident with the actress which demanded immediate asylum. Surely one such houseguest was enough without the appearance of Simon’s godfather, the eminent Sir Lancelot Spratt. Chaos and mayhem in the Sparrow household can mean only one thing – more comic tales from Richard Gordon’s hilarious doctor series. ‘Further unflaggingly funny addition to Simon Sparrow’s medical saga’ – Daily Telegraph

Doctor at Large Dr Richard Gordon’s first job after qualifying takes him to St Swithan’s where he is enrolled as Junior Casualty House Surgeon. However, some rather unfortunate incidents with Mr Justice Hopwood, as well as one of his patients inexplicably coughing up nuts and bolts, mean that promotion passes him by – and goes instead to Bingham, his odious rival. After a series of disastrous interviews, Gordon cuts his losses and visits a medical employment agency. To his disappointment, all the best jobs have already been snapped up, but he could always turn to general practice…

Doctor at Sea Richard Gordon’s life was moving rapidly towards middle-aged lethargy – or so he felt. Employed as an assistant in general practice – the medical equivalent of a poor curate – and having been ‘persuaded’ that marriage is as much an obligation for a young doctor as celibacy for a priest, Richard sees the rest of his life stretching before him. Losing his nerve, and desperately in need of an antidote, he instead signs on with the Fathom Steamboat Company. What follows is a hilarious tale of nautical diseases and assorted misadventures at sea. Yet he also becomes embroiled in a mystery – what is in the Captain’s stomach remedy? And more to the point, what on earth happened to the previous doctor? ‘Sheer unadulterated fun’ – Star

Doctor in Clover Now Dr Grimsdyke is qualified he finds practising medicine rather less congenial than he anticipated. But the ever-selfless Grimsdyke resolves to put the desires of others (and in particular his rather career-minded cousin) before his own, and settle down and make the best of it. Finding the right job, however, is not always that easy. Porterhampton is suddenly rife with difficulties – as is being a waiter, as is being a writer. And writing obituaries is just plain depressing. Doctor in Clover finds the hapless Grimsdyke in a hilarious romp through misadventures, mishaps and total disasters.

Doctor in Love In this hilarious romantic comedy, Richard Gordon awakes one morning with a headache. It takes him a while to realise he is ill – after all he is a doctor! Dr Pennyworth diagnoses jaundice and prescribes a spell in hospital. But amongst the bedpans and injections on Honesty ward, Richard falls in love – with his very own Florence Nightingale. However he soon learns that he has a rival for her affections, and unwilling to lose his love to the pachyderm Dr Hinyman, Richard sets out to impress… More medical mayhem from the hilarious Richard Gordon.

Doctor in the House Richard Gordon’s acceptance into St Swithan’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 Swithan’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! ‘Uproarious, extremely iconoclastic’ – Evening News ‘A delightful book’ – Sunday Times

Doctor in the Nest Sir Lancelot Sprat, surgeon and patriot, is finding that his faith in the British National Health Service is taking a bit of a battering – especially when the ceiling of his operating theatre collapses. It had already been a bad day…a call from Nairobi, a disagreement with Miss MacNish over the breakfast haddock, and a visit from Sir Lionel… Sir Lancelot’s single-handed battle to save St Sepulchre’s Hospital from closure creates a hilarious tale, complicated by two ex-students and three ladies only too willing to satisfy a widower’s sexual desires.

Doctor in the Nude Mrs Samantha Dougal is against it. Nudity that is. In a Soho strip-club, the Dean of St Swithan’s Hospital feigns indifference. Mrs Dougal’s husband, however, is totally in favour – and has just moved in with the Dean, who just happens to be his brother-in-law. The jokes positively spill from this elegantly written and languorously witty tale that includes Sir Lancelot, the Queen, a totally impractical new building, and the voluptuous young daughter of the trendy hospital chaplain. ‘The jokes spill forth fresh and funny… Not a book to read on a train: it’s impossible to keep a straight face’ – Sunday Telegraph