An Ideal Wife. Бетти Нилс
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Louisa looked up as he passed her desk.
‘Will you bring your notebook with you, Miss Howarth? We have ten minutes to spare, I believe.’
The look he gave her was indifferent, although his voice was pleasant. She followed him into the consulting room and sat down, pencil poised.
‘I should like to be sure that we fully understand this rather complicated routine we must follow until Sir James returns. I shall remain here until tomorrow midday. You will accompany me back to my own practice, stay the night so that we can work on the patients for the following day, and return with me late on Saturday morning. I must ask you to work during Saturday afternoon, but you will be free on Sunday.’
Louisa said nothing; he was reiterating what she already knew. He went on, ‘I shall return here on Monday morning, stay until noon on Tuesday and return to my practice until Wednesday afternoon. I believe there are two patients for the early evening?’ And, when she nodded, he added, ‘I shall remain here until Friday noon, when we will return to my practice. We shall have the time then to sort out the patients for the following week. And I will see Sir James’s patients on Saturday afternoon.’
There would be a lot of toing and froing, reflected Louisa, and, of course, the only way he could cope was to go over Sir James’s patients’ notes with her whenever he could spare the time. Hopefully it would only be for a short while. The whole thing had been unexpected and there had been no time to make a better arrangement.
She said, ‘Very well, sir.’
He nodded without looking up from the papers on the desk. ‘Now, these patients this afternoon. Is there anything special I should know about them?’
She replied promptly. ‘Mrs Leggett will be here at two o’clock. She’s an old patient, but very nervous. We usually give her a cup of tea after you’ve seen her. Colonel Trump is next. Peppery, doesn’t like to waste time. Miss Fortesque is young and fashionable, and likes to be buttered up.’
Dr Gifford’s firm mouth twitched. ‘You are most helpful, Miss Howarth. I shall expect Mrs Grant here as chaperon.’
‘Well, yes,’ said Louisa matter-of-factly. ‘Sir James always has her in for the ladies.’ She added, ‘It’s not quite the same as a general practice.’
She was treated to a cold stare from hard blue eyes. ‘Thank you, Miss Howarth. I expect you wish to get on with your work.’
Louisa snapped, ‘Yes, I would. I’ll let you have the letters at the end of the afternoon.’
It surprised her when he got up and opened the door for her, looking remotely over the top of her head as he did so.
It wasn’t until Mrs Leggett had come and gone and Colonel Trump was closeted with the doctor that Louisa had the chance to speak to Mrs Grant. Jilly was in the little treatment room, setting it to rights, and for a moment they were alone.
‘Will he do?’ asked Mrs Grant. ‘Mrs Leggett liked him.’
Louisa pulled a face. ‘I dare say he’s got a super bedside manner, only he isn’t going to waste it on me. He looks through me, over me and round me, but hardly ever at me, and when he does it’s like an icy draught. I don’t think he likes me …’
‘Nonsense, Louisa, everyone likes you. Shall you be able to manage with all the going back and forth? Is it really necessary?’
‘I’m afraid it is. He’s got to know something of Sir James’s patients before he sees them as well as keeping an eye on his own practice. The idea is for us to get their notes sorted out between his surgery hours, so that by the time we get back here he’ll have them all at his fingertips.’
‘Poor man; he’ll be worn out.’
‘So shall I.’
‘I dare say it won’t be for long. Have we any idea how long Sir James will be away?’
‘Not an inkling. I hope it’s only for a few days.’
Miss Fortesque arrived then, in a cloud of expensive scent and wearing an artlessly simple outfit which must have cost the earth. She was wearing an armful of gold bangles which jingled and jangled, and she was in high spirits.
‘I wasn’t sure about coming; Sir James said that he was called away but that a colleague would see me. What’s he like?’
‘I’m sure you’ll like him, Miss Fortesque,’ said Louisa, with just the right amount of enthusiasm in her voice. ‘I’ll show you in if you are quite ready.’
She opened the door, and Miss Fortesque swept past her and advanced with a little cry to where the doctor had risen to meet her. Louisa waited long enough to see him greet his patient with bland courtesy, but over that lady’s head he shot Louisa a look which made her blink. ‘If you would be good enough to send in Sister Grant?’
Miss Fortesque had been coming regularly for some months and she could never be hurried. Today the consultation lasted twice as long as usual, and when she finally came out of the consulting room she left in high spirits.
She tripped over to Louisa’s desk and bent over it to whisper, ‘He’s gorgeous; I hope Sir James is away for a long time. Is he married?’
‘I believe that he’s engaged, Miss Fortesque. Sir James will be away only for a short time. Shall I book you in for your next appointment?’
‘Yes, I’d better come sooner, I think. I don’t feel as well. Next week, perhaps?’
‘I’m afraid we’re fully booked for the whole week. Shall I fit you in on the following week and let you know?’
‘Yes, do that. Before Sir James gets back.’ Miss Fortesque gave her a little smile. ‘Lucky you, here all day with him. Though I don’t suppose he really notices you.’ Her gaze swept over Louisa’s person, suitably dressed for her job with not a bracelet or earring in sight, and she smiled again.
Louisa got up. ‘I’ll show you out, Miss Fortesque,’ she said, and ushered the lady through the door and closed it with a sigh of relief. She locked it, too. There were no more patients for the moment and they could have a cup of tea.
They had their tea sitting at her desk. Jilly had just carried Dr Gifford’s tea tray in, and reported that he had thanked her nicely and smiled. ‘He’s on the phone,’ she said. ‘I like him.’
Mrs Grant chuckled. ‘So did Miss Fortesque, but that cut no ice with him. Very professional, he was, lovely manners, beautiful bedside manner, too, but remote, if you know what I mean. I must say he’s a remarkably handsome man.’ She glanced at Louisa. ‘He’s good too; I’m not surprised Sir James got hold of him. Are they old friends, I wonder?’
‘Perhaps you could find out when you go back with him tomorrow,’ said Jilly.
‘Certainly not,’ said Mrs Grant. ‘It’s none of our business, Jilly. Let’s get tidied up; old Lady Follett will be here very shortly.’
They were piling cups and saucers on the tray when the door opened and Dr Gifford put his head round. ‘Miss Howarth, if you will come?’
He motioned her to a chair. ‘Lady Follett. I see that Sir James intended to suggest hospital treatment. Does she know this?’
‘No. He wrote to Mr Wolfitt, the surgeon he had in mind, and asked about beds and so on. We’ve had no reply as yet.’
He nodded. ‘And Mr Tait—I see there’s a query on his notes.’
‘Mr Tait can’t make up his mind whether to start a course of treatment or not.’
‘Thank you.’ He glanced up. ‘You are most helpful, Miss Howarth.’
It was after six o’clock when Mr Tait left, still undecided, allowing them to clear up quickly and go home, leaving Dr Gifford sitting at his desk.
‘Poor man,’ said Mrs Grant as they