The Dragon and the Needle (13 page)

Julie welcomed him by saying, ‘Dr Clifford? Yes, of course you are.’ She pointed to Eleanor’s consulting room and said, ‘Please let yourself in. Dr Johnson’s waiting for you.’ She turned to the bodyguard with the words, ‘Can I help you, sir?’

Mike introduced him as a friend, then crossed to Eleanor’s door, tapped on it and entered. Seeing her made him feel better. She was sitting behind her desk, and she was beautiful. Then they were standing close together, their faces almost touching.

He whispered, ‘I think I have to kiss you.’ Then he did.
As he gently pulled away from her he saw the look of concern in her eyes.

He smiled and said, ‘You’re worried about me?’

‘Of course I am. Even more so now … after that.’

‘Yes. I just had to kiss you. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t say that. I’m glad you did.’

‘Somehow we’ve got to keep the right balance,’ he said. ‘There’s too much at stake, isn’t there?’

‘Yes. And Mike, you’ve just used the right word, “balance”. Perhaps yours is knocked about at the moment. Sit down and let’s talk.’

‘Is that where we begin? By talking?’

‘Yes.’ Her pen was ready and hovering over her pad on the desk.

‘Age?’ she asked.

‘Twenty-five.’

Eleanor looked up and smiled, ‘But not for long.’

Mike laughed and said, ‘No. Going on thirty-seven.’

‘That’s more like it. Any serious illnesses or operations?’

‘None whatsoever.’

‘Do you ever have any reactions, mental ones that is, after periods of tension?’

‘I don’t think I can bear this,’ he replied with a smile. Then he added quickly, ‘When can we kiss again?’

She smiled back, put her pen down, and pointed to her patient’s couch, saying, ‘Over there, Mike, and lie down.’

As he lay down, he turned to her and said, ‘For a kiss?’

Then she was by his side, not for a kiss, but taking his right wrist in her hand began feeling his pulses.

‘They’re racing, aren’t they? Your touch does something to me.’

Now she looked serious and ordered Mike to stop talking. He obeyed her. He decided that he did feel more relaxed. Is that what happened when the pulses were handled like this? For she was checking them on both wrists. He found it so
soothing that he closed his eyes until some minutes later, when she released her hold on his left wrist. He opened his eyes again as she spoke.

‘Do you only need to take paracetamol from time to time?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Put your tongue out, Mike.’

He smiled and obeyed. He pushed himself up to rest on his elbow and said, ‘So? What happens next?’ He was smiling like an open piano.

Eleanor frowned. ‘Mike,’ she said in a serious tone of voice, ‘Your energy patterns are haywire. You’re heading for problems – health problems. Thank God you’ve come to me.’

He reached out and touched her cheek. ‘Look here, Eleanor,’ he said softly, ‘I don’t have health problems and I’m a great survivor and …’

‘Stop, Mike. Listen to me. It’s nothing I can’t sort out. And quickly, too. Just believe me.’

‘My pulse rate was absolutely normal on the way here, I checked it!’

‘I’m not talking about pulse rates! I’m talking about your energy patterns, a totally different concept of acupuncture.’

For the moment, she became the stronger character. Her confidence was infectious and he began to feel strangely comforted. She told him to strip down to his underpants. He obeyed, and then asked, ‘What’s the next stage?’ But this time he did not laugh.

‘It’s best that you relax,’ she said firmly, yet softly. ‘Don’t talk. Please, Mike, do as I say.’

He smiled his reply, lay down again, and closed his eyes, finding it difficult to relax as thoughts of the future crossed his mind. These unexplained deaths were now becoming so widespread that they could only be defeated by a massive effort of … he paused in his thoughts as his mind cleared for a moment … an effort of the Western world. Then, as quickly, his mind changed to thoughts of a worldwide effort,
East, North and South in addition to the West. What was he doing here in Eleanor’s hands? Was this going to lead to a vital contribution to the massive effort required?

Then he heard Eleanor say soothingly, ‘Relax, Mike.’

He opened his eyes once more and then quickly closed them. He did not want to watch Eleanor’s next move, as he had seen her poised and ready to commence his first acupuncture treatment, holding in her hand a very fine, and, he hoped, sterilised and unbreakable needle.

With his eyes closed he said, ‘OK, but I’m crossing my fingers that it won’t be too painful.’

Then, instead of pain, he did feel a definite sensation: he was aware of the needle being inserted above his left eyebrow, near the top of his head. He heard her say gently, ‘OK, Mike?’

He opened his eyes and said, ‘No problem.’

‘Good. So don’t close your eyes. I want you to form a ring by joining the middle finder of your left hand with its thumb.’

As he did so he smiled, saying, ‘That’s the “no good” sign in France.’

She closely inspected the ring formed by his finger and thumb, and said, ‘Yes, you’re right there. But not in acupuncture … here I’m right.’

‘What are you right about?’ he asked.

‘I’m right about the depth of the needle insertion.’

‘What’s my finger and thumb got to do with the depth of the needle?’

‘Everything, Mike. Just stay still for a while, don’t talk, then I’ll tell you.’

Eleanor began testing his pulses again. Now his eyes were wide open, looking at her, with a slight smile on his face. He remembered being told once that the Chinese had developed diagnostic techniques which gave important indications of the nature, location and seriousness of disorders. Why had he remembered that?

Without looking at him she said quietly, ‘It’s getting better, Mike. The flow of energy in your Yang meridian is balancing itself very nicely.’

Ten minutes later she was able to say to him, ‘I’ve got you in time. You’re going to be in good health again sooner than I thought.’

What could he reply? He was already feeling much more relaxed. He decided to remain quiet. Eleanor inserted more needles. He counted five. Once he said ‘Ouch’, and winced slightly. All he got in return for that reaction was a smile from Eleanor.

She went across to her desk and began writing.

‘What are you up to, my dear?’ he asked.

‘Quiet, Mike, please,’ was her only reply.

When she returned to his side, he had nearly decided to call her ‘darling’ … much less formal than ‘my dear’. Then he thought, no … too soon, too much at stake at the moment … personal relationships must be kept under strict control and …

She cut in on his thoughts. ‘Relax, and close your eyes.’

Then, before she told him the treatment was completed, removing the needles, and whilst he was still lying on the couch, she explained two of the basics of acupuncture. ‘Firstly, Mike, the foundation of acupuncture rests upon the relationship that exists between a specific point on the surface of the skin and a specific organ. Secondly, relying totally on anatomical designations, that point on the surface of the skin was discovered and has been used for thousands of years and is plotted onto charts. The depth to which the needle is inserted varies according to the patient’s physical make up, or size, if you like.’ She stopped speaking and smiled, adding, ‘I’m sure you understand that.’

‘Perfectly,’ he smiled. Then, ‘Not really,’ he said, ‘but I’m feeling very relaxed.’

‘Good … and better?’

‘Now you’re trying auto-suggestion.’

‘You think so?’

He grinned, sat silent for a moment on the side of the couch and then said with a touch of surprise in his voice, ‘What I do know at this stage is how much better I feel. I really do. It all seems so simple.’

Eleanor smiled with relief and said, ‘The Chinese say “Simplicity is of all things, the hardest to be copied”.’

‘That’s a very profound thought,’ he said. ‘But why the circle you asked me to form with my finger and thumb?’

‘It’s a unit of measurement used to locate the points exactly. I can’t go into precise details,’ Eleanor smiled, ‘you can learn those gradually. It’s very hard work because they have to be memorised.’

Mike was thinking, with memory flashes as quick as lightning, of his work at Sussex University. When could he return to that important task? Although he worked hard, long hours, at least there were off-duty hours when he was able to think, relax and catch up on private matters. Then he thought, luckily for him, in the midst of all this drama, he had met Eleanor. Her voice interrupted his thoughts.

‘Mike, you look miles away,’ she said.

As he looked at her he felt certain she could be opening new doors. In light of Dorman’s last ideas about ENDS, perhaps this was a golden opportunity to go forward. The enigma might be unravelled much quicker than anyone thought.

‘Sorry, I’m not really miles away at all. I’m here, sitting on your couch, thinking of our next moves, of the need for me to know more about acupuncture, and,’ he paused, ‘of you.’ He soon solved that by putting his face within inches of hers. They kissed and laughed together.

‘Now this all calls for a small Anglo-American celebration,’ he said.

It was arranged that they should have the celebration at Mike’s London club. His bodyguard would of course be in
attendance at a nearby table. The man was delighted to have Eleanor’s secretary Julie as company.

It did not take long for Eleanor to encourage Mike’s interest in acupuncture and Oriental medicine, although she knew she was going against Ah-Ming’s directives. And she knew she would have to tread carefully.

She continued her explanations of the therapy at the celebration dinner. She felt safe in Mike’s club. Eleanor spoke of the energy contained in the universe and related by the ancient Chinese to the human body. They called this energy ‘Qi’, which she explained is pronounced ‘chee’. Qi flows continuously to all the various parts of the body, along channels known as meridians. But when she continued to describe the meridians as being represented as lines drawn on acupuncture charts, he suggested, ‘Lines? You mean veins and arteries!’

‘No, I don’t, Mike. Blood flows in its denser forms through those vessels. The meridians are subtler.’

He listened, but without showing his thoughts. He knew that the existence of the meridians could not yet be proved. The BMA journal had long ago discussed that fact. He said, ‘Those meridians … there isn’t an adequate explanation for them, is there?’

‘No.’

‘You’re about to tell me that the existence of these meridians cannot be proved?’

She smiled. ‘Yes, clever you! As if you didn’t know that.’ Her smile was part mischief, part satisfaction.

He knew she must understand his doubts. They both possessed fine, precise minds, understanding, anticipating each other’s thoughts. Eleanor talked more about the philosophy of the Chinese, relating it to their medical practises. Mike began to show deeper interest when he heard her say, towards
the end of the dinner, that the father of her Chinese husband was a brilliant acupuncturist, adding ‘He was caught by the Japanese in the Second World War.’

‘And he died in the camp?’

‘No, Mike, far from it. He survived, and in the process saved many Japanese soldiers from death from tropical diseases, illness and wounds.’

Mike smiled slightly saying, ‘I’m surprised. I’d have thought he would have preferred to kill them.’

‘Why should he have done that? The soldiers were human beings. He was a doctor.’

The evening wore on, and it was not until they were leaving that she said to Mike, ‘My husband’s father also killed some of those Japanese.’

‘How did he manage to get away with that?’

She frowned and paused before replying, ‘He was lucky, I reckon.’

It was not easy for Eleanor to wake up when her telephone rang in the early hours of the following morning. By the time she managed to lift the receiver the caller had rung off. Then she found it difficult to fall asleep again. But as she thought about Mike she was glad to feel his interest in Oriental medicine was growing. She would build on that – but Ah-Ming must never find out! She wondered how far she could let the increasing affection they had for each other develop. There was so much at stake for them both.

At that precise moment Mike too was awake thinking about her. He had just tried to telephone her, but had rung off realising she must be in a deep sleep. At first disappointed at not speaking to her, he became more relaxed as he thought about her, his love for her. The closer they became, the more he would want to protect her. He fell into a troubled sleep.

The telephone by Eleanor’s bed began to ring once more.
This time she was awake and immediately picked up the receiver. It was Ah-Ming.

His voice was firm yet apologetic, but Eleanor found it difficult to keep her hands from trembling as he spoke slowly. ‘It’s possible that soon you will be asked to go to France.’

She cut in quickly. ‘What on earth are you telling me! And why call me at this hour? Have you heard of the elementary thing called phone tapping?’

‘We know that there is no tapping of your phone. We know how to check such simple devices. I repeat that you will be asked to go to France. Perhaps that will be the beginning of a closer contact with your husband …’ He broke off.

She fought her fear, yet there was a quaver in her voice. ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’

‘All will be revealed to you at the proper time. Who knows, perhaps even Dr Clifford will finish up on the side of China!’

In her mind’s eye she could see his smile. What did he mean by that? And what was China really trying to do? She became reflective, thoughtful and full of the echoes of Chinese sayings, the mind of the Orient. A mass of uneasy fantasies burst in on her troubled senses. She was haunted by a new and fearful thought: was there some kind of counter-espionage?

She heard his voice, questioning her, ‘Did you hear what I said?’

‘Yes, and I can’t begin to understand.’ Eleanor had always been too ready to believe what people said.

‘Can’t understand?’ Ah-Ming said sharply.