The Country Doctor: Captivating tales from a young GP's case notes

by Jean McConnell

  ‘No, Doctor. She’s not anxious to. She and my niece have struck up a friendship and they’re keeping each other amused very nicely.’

  As Linda walked up the stairs, Mrs Dibley was called to the telephone. She turned back, gesturing to Linda to carry on. Hearing children’s voices in the distance, Linda continued up and along a landing.

  There were several closed doors along the landing, and the voices had suddenly stopped now so that Linda had no idea where the children might be. She tried a couple of bedrooms without success, then found herself at the end of the corridor faced with a single, impressively carved door. She paused.

  Behind it she felt sure she could hear whispering. She tried the handle but it didn’t give. She listened again and thought she heard a window shut.

  ‘Erica! Are you in there?’ said Linda, uncertainly.

  It was at this point that Mrs Dibley came hurrying up behind her. She gave a little gasp.

  ‘Those children are surely not in the gallery!’ she said. She rattled the door-handle. ‘Come out!’ she cried. ‘Come out this instant!’

  They heard a key turn in the lock, and the door opened slowly. There stood the two small figures. Erica looked very red in the face, while Jenny was ashen.

  ‘You know you’re not allowed in there! Where did you find the key?’

  ‘I know where Grandfather keeps it.’

  ‘Give it to me. At once!’

  Mrs Dibley seized the key from the child and hustling them out of the way, she locked the door. And as she did, Linda was surprised to notice that her hand was trembling.

  Jenny had already disappeared below stairs when Linda examined Erica and pronounced her on the mend with no further visits necessary.

  But the next morning Mrs Dibley was on the telephone to surgery. ‘It’s my niece ‒ Jenny. She’s had nightmares all night. And her temperature’s up. I’m afraid she’s got ’flu.’

  When Linda got to Westbrook House, it was to find Jenny in bed. She could see at once there was more to Jenny’s sickness than ’flu.

  ‘Has something happened to her, Mrs Dibley? She seems to be in a state of shock.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the housekeeper, ‘I think it has.’ She looked worried. ‘I’m sure something upset her yesterday, but I don’t know what. You remember when I found the two girls in the long gallery?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘You won’t tell the Commander, will you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Well, it was after that, she seemed to be in a terrible state.’

  ‘I wonder if I could have a word with Erica, Mrs Dibley.’

  ‘Yes, of course, come with me.’

  Under Linda’s questioning, Erica wriggled and hedged evasively.

  ‘Now listen, Erica, we know you were in that gallery and that something frightened Jenny. What was it?’

  ‘A ghost!’ said Erica, suddenly. ‘We saw a ghost.’

  ‘A ghost? In daylight?’

  ‘Yes, Doctor Ford. It was all dressed in grey and it sort of glided right down the corridor and into the gallery ‒ that’s why we went in ‒ then it disappeared. We were terrified!’

  ‘Mm,’ said Linda. ‘You know, I think we’d better investigate this, Mrs Dibley.’

  ‘Oh, it won’t be there now,’ said Erica, quickly.

  ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘Nobody’s allowed in the gallery ‒ Grandfather says so!’

  Linda looked at Mrs Dibley, who hesitated, then said: ‘Well, it so happens the gallery is open for window-cleaning today so ‒’

  ‘I’m not going! There’s a ghost! A ghost!’ cried Erica, and ran away down the passage.

  The window-cleaner was busily at work when Mrs Dibley and Linda entered the gallery.

  Mrs Dibley nodded to him then led Linda down the long room where the Commander’s art treasures were housed. Set out all up and down the room were pieces of delicate and rare china; ornaments, bowls, vessels and figures of all kinds. The sunlight streamed down on the sparkling porcelain, highlighting the colours and setting gold leaf winking.

  Linda could see nothing that could have accounted for Jenny’s shock. Nothing in the least gruesome or ‒ Suddenly, Mrs Dibley beside her gave a cry and grasped at her arm.

  ‘Oh no!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s missing.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Doctor Ford, there should be a china group over there ‒ three eighteenth-century figures playing musical instruments. It’s always been there. Always.’

  ‘Perhaps the Commander has taken it up to London with him,’ suggested Linda. But neither of them believed this for a moment.

  ‘But if he hasn’t ‒’

  The uncompleted sentence hung in the air, a suspicion dawning on them.

  As they left the gallery, the window-cleaner watched them from the corner of his eye, aware of the anxiety in that heavy silence. He well appreciated their apprehension. Hadn’t he often suffered under the lash of the Commander’s tongue for as little as a smeared window. Poor old Mrs Dibley had a right to be scared. He was terrified of the Commander himself. If it hadn’t been that Westbrook House was a considerable job with its many windows, and that he needed the money right now, he’d have left the Commander to his own devices long ago. As it was he just steered clear of him.

  And so it was that when he came across the china ornament in the window-box half an hour later, he had no hesitation in leaving it strictly where it was, determined to forget he’d seen those tell-tale pieces.

  Mrs Dibley saw Linda out of the front door. The lines on her face seemed deeper.

  ‘I wonder if it’s very valuable,’ she said distractedly.

  Linda departed without answering her question. But she knew it was; as she told the assembled company at supper on Saturday evening.

  ‘The poor woman must be worried sick,’ said Linda.

  ‘Of course he’s crazy about that collection,’ said Peter.

  ‘Let’s put it this way,’ said his father. ‘I wouldn’t like to be in her shoes when he discovers his loss.’

  They had finished eating and decided to take their coffee in the lounge. As they rose, Peter stepped quickly round to pull back Linda’s chair for her, and she was strongly aware again of his nearness. With her chill only just conquered she hadn’t dared to wear anything too flimsy, so she’d chosen an emerald silk kaftan, embroidered with gold thread. It was exotic; and as her voice was still two tones down the scale, she felt quite glamorous. As long as my nose isn’t still rose pink! thought Linda as she caught Peter eyeing her intently again later.

  The conversation turned to current films and Linda realised she’d grown quite out of touch and said so.

  ‘Let’s see what’s on in Yelchester tomorrow night,’ said Peter, reaching for the local newspaper.

  ‘I thought you were going back tomorrow,’ remarked his father.

  ‘I’ll go up Monday morning,’ said Peter quickly. ‘What’s the position about surgery?’

  ‘Doctor Ford’s off duty,’ said John Cooper. ‘But don’t keep her out till dawn. She’s had a touch of the plague!’

  ‘Look, I have to see some friends the other side of Yelchester in the afternoon. Could we meet at the Royal Oak for a drink then go on to the film?’ asked Peter.

  ‘Thank you. I’d love to,’ said Linda, only later realising she hadn’t even thought to ask what film was on. It’ll make a break, she said to herself. And it’ll be no hardship to be squired about for an evening by Peter the Great.

  On Sunday evening it was raining. Surgery was over, John Cooper was out on a call and Elsie Peach was manning the telephone, as Linda climbed into her reliable old M.G. and began backing across the yard.

  She swung the car round towards the gate, but got no further. A small figure was caught in her headlights.

  Linda leapt from her seat and ran forward just in time to catch Jenny in her arms as she fell.

  She half-led half-carried
the girl across the yard and somehow got her upstairs into her flat. All the time Jenny was shivering and sobbing and clutching at her as if she were drowning.

  At last Linda was able to comfort her enough to get a coherent explanation.

  ‘She said I did it! She told Auntie it was me!’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Erica. She told Auntie that I took the ornament!’

  Linda had wrapped a blanket round Jenny and was now busy making her a warm drink.

  ‘You shouldn’t have left your bed, you know, dear,’ she said, frowning at the child’s flushed cheeks.

  ‘I heard them talking. Auntie told Erica she would have to tell the Commander it was missing. So Erica said I took it. But I didn’t! I didn’t!’

  Linda put the weeping girl into her bed where she calmed down a little although she was still in a fever. After a while Linda phoned Elsie Peach and told her to switch the telephone through and come over to the flat.

  ‘I’ve done all I can for the child for the moment, Elsie. I’ve been trying to ring Westbrook House but I can’t get through. They must be frantic about her. Will you keep an eye on her while I slip up and tell them she’s here?’

  Elsie nodded and sat down beside Jenny, tenderly mopping her wet forehead.

  Mrs Dibley was appalled when she heard what had happened.

  ‘Poor Jenny. Poor little girl. I’d no idea she could hear us talking. Of course she didn’t take the ornament. I know that. And Erica only said it because she was afraid. It must have been burglars. I’m sure it was a burglar!’

  So that’s what she intends to tell the Commander thought Linda. She knows the children are lying, but she’s prepared to lie herself to protect them.

  When Erica appeared, Linda confronted her with her untruth which she soon admitted.

  ‘It must have been the ghost that took it. We did see a ghost. Honestly we did!’ said Erica, frantically changing her story again.

  ‘A ghost,’ said Linda. ‘Up there?’ She pointed to the shadows at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Y‒yes,’ said Erica.

  ‘What was it like did you say?’

  ‘Erm ‒ all grey. It was in a sort of nun’s costume.’

  ‘Really?’ Linda peered up the stairs with great interest, then suddenly pointed.

  ‘Heavens yes! It’s there now!’

  Erica shrieked.

  Linda quickly took her hand. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘It’s only the curtain blowing.’

  But Erica had dissolved into tears. She clung to Linda despairingly: ‘It was broken! We didn’t mean to! Please don’t tell Grandfather! Please!’

  ‘What did you do with it?’ asked Mrs Dibley, stroking Erica’s hair. But the girl would say no more and Linda passed her over into Mrs Dibley’s arms.

  ‘Leave Jenny with me for the time being,’ said Linda and Mrs Dibley accepted gratefully.

  Driving home, Linda suddenly felt a surge of anger at the whole business. She hurried back to take care of Jenny.

  It was several hours later before she remembered she had missed her date at the Royal Oak.

  Now I’ll never know what film was on, she thought ruefully.

  In the morning, Peter’s newly acquired BMW had gone. Linda hoped he’d got the note she sent via Elsie, apologising for letting him down.

  Elsie arrived just before ten at the flat as arranged so that Linda could get off to surgery.

  ‘How’s the little girl?’’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Her temperature’s down a bit but she’s none too bright.’

  ‘I hope you slept all right on that divan bed, Doctor. It looks a right devil.’

  ‘It is ‒ and I’ve the scars to prove it,’ grinned Linda.

  ‘Doctor Cooper says she can come over to the big house in the spare room, just as soon as it’s possible.’

  ‘That’s very kind of him. I certainly don’t think we can send her back to Westbrook House. The Commander’s due back tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh my dear life,’ proclaimed Elsie. ‘Now the fat’ll be in the fire!’

  It was.

  The Collector missed the piece almost at once and came striding out of the long gallery with a face of thunder, calling for Mrs Dibley. Half an hour later she was still standing before him in the study, her hands pressed tight together and her shoulders hunched against the storm. At last she escaped and made for the telephone.

  She came through to Linda on the pretext of asking after her niece but almost at once she broke down and was pouring out everything through broken sobs.

  ‘He said he’d always thought me a responsible woman ‒ that he’d always trusted me ‒ and I’d let him down. He said the articles in the long gallery were in my care and that I should have stopped anyone entering the gallery while he was away. And he just shouted when I mentioned burglars! And as for ghosts! And he said he trusted the window-cleaner because he’d worked here for years. So there was only one person.’

  ‘Who did he mean?’ asked Linda.

  ‘My niece, of course! He’s asked that her room be searched, and her suitcase! And he even asked if she’d had anything with her when she left so suddenly. That’s what’s made him so suspicious, you see, her rushing off like that. I’m at my wits end! I told him little Jenny was ill and got frightened and didn’t know what she was doing. But he wants her questioned. In fact, he says as soon as she’s better he’s going to question her himself!’

  She dissolved in such a flood of tears that Linda could make out no more of what she was saying. So she made comforting noises and replaced the receiver. Really the whole thing was getting wildly out of proportion. And that Commander had no right to trample everyone under foot like this. This was the man that Doctor Cooper dined with. Even so, she would tell him all about it when the opportunity arose.

  During the ensuing days the story of the missing ornament became village gossip and there was scarcely a house Linda visited where Jenny’s health wasn’t asked after ‒ which was a good way of leading the conversation round to the mystery.

  Then amongst the victims of the ’flu fell the window-cleaner’s wife. Linda climbed the dark, boxed-in stairs of their terraced cottage to attend the woman, who had contracted the illness badly.

  The window-cleaner stood anxiously by and two subdued young children waited below in the kitchen.

  Linda wrote her prescriptions and rose to leave.

  ‘Doctor!’

  Linda returned to her patient.

  ‘Is that ornament still missing?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  The woman looked up with frank and honest eyes. ‘Then my husband has something to tell you.’

  The window-cleaner looked troubled, and his wife took his hand.

  ‘We must, my dear,’ she said. ‘No matter what happens. It’s only right.’ He nodded reluctantly and she went on. ‘He found it in a window-box. It’s probably still there. He should have said, but he was afraid he’d get the blame. We’ve both been that worried!’

  Linda found herself quite enraged by the fact that, through fear, so many normally honest people had been driven to spin such a web of deceit and mistrust.

  Now possessed of the whole facts of the case, she recounted them to Doctor Cooper.

  ‘I suppose you think I ought to “bell the cat”,’ he said.

  ‘Not at all!’ flashed Linda. ‘I think I’d quite enjoy telling him.’

  ‘I think you’re getting your priorities wrong, Doctor,’ observed John Cooper drily. ‘The Commander has good reason to be annoyed.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Linda. ‘But what has he gained by instilling terror into everyone round him? Just delay in getting at the truth. The children didn’t intend to do malicious damage. It was unfortunate and everyone’s sorry ‒ but I see no reason why they should be subjected to excessive torment!’

  John Cooper took a long look at her and when he spoke his tone was formal.

  ‘Doctor Ford,’ he said. ‘I have already advised you against getting
emotionally involved in the problems of your patients.’

  Linda felt ashamed of her outburst. But she had to make her point.

  ‘I know you’re right, Doctor Cooper,’ she said soberly. ‘I also accept your word that the ornament was worth a great deal to the Commander. But people’s feelings must surely be respected too, and aren’t they equally fragile?’

  ‘I could get down this weekend if you were free to come to dinner.’ Peter Cooper was on the telephone to Linda.

  ‘I’m sorry, your father and I have an invitation to Commander Hewson-Laws.’

  ‘You can get out of that, surely?’

  ‘I want to go.’

  ‘You’re kidding. First you stand me up at the cinema. O.K. I got the note. And now this. Are you warning me off? I mean seriously?’

  ‘No! We’re taking young Jenny back with us as she’s better now, and there’s likely to be a scene.’

  ‘Now take my advice, Linda. Don’t interfere.’

  Oh no, thought Linda, not him too! Why couldn’t anyone understand. ‘I don’t want the Commander upsetting those children any more.’

  ‘You’re taking too much on yourself.’

  ‘They’re my patients!’

  ‘I suggest you leave it to my father.’

  ‘But the Commander’s his friend.’

  ‘That wouldn’t prejudice him, I assure you.’

  ‘He won’t get involved ‒ he said so.’

  ‘And very right too! Come to dinner with me. I won’t be free again for ages, I warn you.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  On Saturday evening, as she got dressed, Linda felt quite as glum as Jenny, who was miserably gathering her belongings together for the transfer to Westbrook. They all drove over in Doctor Cooper’s car and at the door Jenny was quickly spirited away by Mrs Dibley whilst the two doctors went into the study to take sherry with the Commander.

  Linda joined in the general conversation on a strictly social level. The two men were soon engaged in the discussion of antiques and Linda lapsed into silence. Despite herself she found the Commander’s knowledge and enthusiasm impressive and fascinating.

  They went in to dinner. The table was set for three. So Erica was not to eat with them. Still in disgrace probably.

  The meal was excellent and the Commander held forth with stories and reminiscences of the strange histories of old works of art. As he talked, his eyes alight and his voice warm with delight in his subject, it gradually dawned on Linda how deeply the man was obsessed with his passion for these treasures, and suddenly she understood something of the rage he had felt at the children’s carelessness.