Somewhere south of Great Leigh Audrey was having a similar sort of heart to heart chat with herself. The nurses at Longbourne House had started easing up on the pain killers and were teaching Audrey how to move her portly person around on crutches. It wasn’t easy but it was easier though more painful without the morphine. After this morning’s little session, Audrey was recovering with a big fat book. “Well Audrey, how are we today?” Audrey looked up from Our Mutual Friend and noted that Dr Sandra Lockwith could do with some help in the clothes department. “We?” she said, pushing her borrowed glasses down her nose and looking over her shoulder. Dr Lockwith pasted a pretend smile of appreciation under her nose and clasped her hands together, bouncing them slightly on her abdomen and mustering all her persuasive skills. She couldn’t upsell this patient on a medical basis, that was certain. Her doctor’s qualification is based on a ten week course in women’s healthcare from Santa Monica College ten years ago. It wouldn’t stand up to any sort of orthopedic question. It would have to be something more subtle.
“Audrey, you are clearly still not yourself are you?” she said, as she perched herself on the edge of the library desk. “Perhaps we should consider another few days at Longbourne for you? I mean for your state of mind, your confidence, self-assurance, you know. You’ve had a nasty experience. I am sure we can come to an arrangement that would ease the transition back to the outside world? Hmmm? ” This last accompanied by a vague wave in the direction of the tall windows and the sweep of the South Downs glittering in the bright morning light. Audrey followed her arm and smiled. “Not particularly user friendly to a woman in my position, that particular outside world now is it?” Dr Lockwith ignored the sarcasm, looked down at her lap and sighed a sympathetic sigh that only just masked her annoyance. This wasn’t going anywhere. “Are you sure? You really should think about it?” Audrey stared back at her, keeping the rictus in place. “Is leaving us after just a few short days, really the best thing? Why not stay on through the weekend?” Audrey’s eyes were staring fixedly back at Dr Lockwith whose usually steely nerve was starting to turn molten under Audrey’s gaze. “Are you certain you will be able to manage in London, on your own?” she weaseled. Audrey was by no means certain that she would be able to manage in London or anywhere else. But she knew that the American Express bill would soon be arriving and that at the moment there was no possibility of paying it, which meant there could be no chance of extending her time at Longbourne House without the ignominy of being found out. And besides, she knew she had to face the mess. The time for quiet avoidance was ebbing fast away and now that Angus was buried it was time to collect all that she knew about their finances, and work out how best she could burn it all down and start again.
“The thing is Dr Lockwith, I really do feel ready to tackle my own life again. This place has done me a power of good and I am ready, almost, to leave.” Sandra Lockwith wasn’t about to give up, but determined as she was on her upselling mission she recognised in Audrey’s faux pasted smile that she was beaten. Audrey oozed oily smooth confidence blended with an air of slight impatience. It discouraged further challenge, so Dr Lockwith looked down her long nose and sucked in her lower lip mute and acquiescent. The combination of underbite, missing lower lip and size nine nose combined to give her the impression of a mountain goat. And she dresses like one Audrey thought to herself, returning to her book.
“Well,” said Dr Lockwith to Audrey’s bowed head with a sigh, “you know best what’s best for you” and tweaking her smile ever so slightly held out her hand. “I am going to be away for a few days, so I shan’t be here to wave you off”. Audrey looked up, took her hand and returned the smile with a couple of tweaks of her own, mostly to display her perfect teeth. “I am sure all will be well” she called to Dr Lockwith’s retreating back encouragingly. She almost believed it herself.
When she relayed the conversation to Dr Herbert Saltcake later in the morning, Dr Lockwith was tempted to ask Herbert for any medical reason as the basis for encouraging Audrey to extend her stay. Dr Lockwith trusted Dr Saltcake’s forty years in clinical practise for all medically important decisions. As she watched with fondness his quiet reading of the Lancet, she marvelled at their mutual trust and understanding. She has never asked dear Herbert about his qualifications and medical experiences in Africa. And he has never asked her about what happened in America, perhaps for similar reasons.
Dr Herbert Saltcake is a real doctor, except that he is a doctor of philosophy, rather than of medicine. Years spent in Africa working for an NGO exposed him to more than he expected of illness and disease, and his aptitude for medical diagnosis although only a well polished act, was enough to convince many of his colleagues and their patients that he could be a doctor. And so it was, a habit growing easily and unchecked on fertile ground. His actual expertise was in medieval accounting and financial history, a topic that was surprisingly useful when his brother left him a nursing home. The annoying thing was, that the nursing home was a vibrant and successful enterprise that demanded Herbert’s return from Africa. This in fact turned out to be quite convenient, Herbert having managed to embroil his handsome self in a number of risky relationships, including one with a real doctor who was wanting to get to know him better. So he left and pitched up at Longbourne as Dr Saltcake, legitimately so, but not quite.
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