The Consultant's Recovery

by Gill Sanderson

  ‘It's nearly five on Friday afternoon,’ he said. ‘Joe will be coming round soon. In the past, nearly every Friday he used to call round and we'd go for a run together. Hell, what I wouldn't give for a run! Press ups are fine, but I need to stretch my legs.’ The intercom buzzed. ‘That'll be Joe,’ he said.

  Tania smiled. ‘In that case, how would you like to go running with him?’

  She was spending far too much time with Jonathan.

  She should have left at five. But here she was, an hour later, standing at the edge of a lonely flat beach with two men dressed in running kit in front of her.

  She took a thick bandage and loosely tied Joe's wrist to Jonathan's. ‘You'll have to get used to each other's pace,’ she said. ‘Move very slowly at first. Jonathan, this beach is very flat, there's hardly anything to trip over. But try and pick up your feet a little more than you usually would. Now, start with just a jog trot, run to the edge of the sea and then come back to me.’

  Joe grinned at her delightedly. ‘This is brilliant,’ he said. ‘Tania, you're a genius.’

  Jonathan said nothing, but moved his head, as if trying to sense which way he was to go. ‘Let's try it,’ he said.

  She watched as they ran away from her. At first they had difficulty, unable to adapt to each other's pace or arm movements. But after a while they picked up a rhythm and she could tell that they were moving more easily together.

  They reached the edge of the sea, turned and ran back to her.

  ‘You're doing well now,’ she said. ‘You're on your own for half an hour. Just remember, Joe, keep away from the softer sand – you can trip in that. Oh, and Jonathan's been in hospital for a stay – he's not as fit as he thinks.’

  ‘Yes, miss,’ said Jonathan.

  ‘Off you go, then.’ She watched the two figures dwindle away into the distance. But she knew they'd come back.

  Chapter Three

  ON MONDAY morning there was a message on Tania's desk. Could she call at Derrick's office? She didn't go at once – there were a couple of letters to write, her log to fill in, a phone call to make. But eventually there was no reason to put it off any longer, so she went to see him. She suspected that no good would come of the meeting.

  But Derrick was affable. He gave her a glass of iced orange juice, asked her if she'd thought further about the full-time post, told her that he'd received excellent reports on her work from a couple of doctors.

  ‘We work best if we work together,’ he said. ‘You're the newest of our rehabilitation workers. I know all the others well. I really think you and I should get together some time in a more relaxed atmosphere. What about a drink tonight?’

  ‘I'm busy tonight,’ she said. ‘But I know two or three of the others are going to the King's Arms this lunchtime. We could join them if you like.’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I think we need to be alone together. Just the two of us. I'm free every evening this week – when are you free?’

  She would have to spell it out to him. Again. ‘Derrick, we work together. In fact, I work for you. I don't think that relationships that start at work are ever successful, so I decided a long time ago that I would never go out with anyone I worked with.’

  It wasn't the answer he'd wanted. ‘Of course, you're entitled to your point of view,’ he said sourly, ‘though I don't think it's a correct one.’

  He picked up a pen, tapped it on his desk in a rhythm that she found distracting. ‘Having a relationship with someone you work with may be foolish,’ he said. ‘Having a relationship with someone you work for – with a client, in effect – is certainly foolish.’

  He had irritated her so she would provoke him. ‘I thought our first responsibility as rehabilitation workers was to establish a relationship?’

  ‘A professional one! You know what I'm talking about, Tania.’

  ‘I'm not sure I do. Have you anything specific to complain about in my relationships with any of my clients?’

  This time he didn't respond. ‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘I'm sure I can rely in every way on your professionalism and good sense.’

  She went back to her desk, picked up her bag and went out to visit Olive Murphy.

  That afternoon Tania called on Jonathan again. They would work more in the kitchen.

  ‘You're upset,’ he said after a while. ‘You're doing a good job but you're not concentrating and there's something else on your mind. Want to tell me what it is?’

  ‘No. I'm here to help you, not have you help me. And it's only a little problem. A work problem. I'll sort it out.’

  ‘Didn't you tell me that the best thing to do with problems was get them into the open? Let's do just that.’

  So she told him. ‘I have this client, Olive Murphy. She's eighty, as bright as a button, suffering from chronic glaucoma. It could have been treated but … Olive isn't fond of the medical profession and it's now too late. With a bit of help she can live comfortably in the house she's been in for the past fifty years.’

  ‘No family?’

  ‘None at all. Her husband's dead, they never had children. The family next door are supportive but they have young children and they can't do too much.’

  ‘So what's the problem?’

  ‘I think she's ill,’ said Tania. ‘In fact, I think she's very ill and she won't accept any help. Her GP is a young woman – younger than me, in fact. She tries her best but Olive just won't listen to her. I'm quite close to Olive, but she won't listen to me either. All we want is for her to go to hospital to have a few tests.’

  ‘Doesn't seem much to ask,’ Jonathan agreed. ‘I see a lot of old ladies in my clinics who –’

  The shock hit him suddenly, hard. ‘No,’ he managed to grate out, ‘I used to see a lot of old ladies.’

  Once again, this was something Tania had met before. One of her clients would be engrossed in something, and suddenly reality would hit them. They were blind. For a moment they had forgotten, now the horror came back. It was hard.

  Tania said nothing, just reached over and took Jonathan's hand. He squeezed it for a second, then carefully released her grip and laid her hand back on her lap.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I should concentrate on what I'm saying.’ She looked at his bleak expression and decided not to comment.

  He went on, ‘As I said, I used to see a lot of old ladies, and quite often they enjoyed a trip out to the hospital. They get a cup of tea and a nurse makes a fuss of them.’

  ‘Olive is different. Her husband died in hospital – one of those unfortunate cases. He was allergic to the anaesthetic or something. It was only a minor operation. And since then Olive has never trusted a hospital or doctors.’

  ‘Hmm. Tell me her symptoms – as best you can describe them.’

  So she did and instantly Jonathan turned into a doctor. She knew he was one, of course, everyone had told her so. But it was interesting to watch his brooding face, and try to answer the detailed questions he asked. And, subtly, their relationship changed. No longer was she his tutor. They were equals – or she was even learning from him?

  ‘I want to meet her,’ he said when he had finished. ‘Can you take me round to her house? She might object to doctors – but she'll think that a blind person can't do much harm. But I don't want to intrude.’

  ‘Olive loves visitors. But I'm supposed to be helping you, not you helping me.’

  ‘Taking me there will be helping me. It'll give me the chance to feel useful again.’

  ‘We-ell,’ she mumbled, ‘I'd like to take you – but I'm supposed to be training you. I don't think Derrick Gee would think much of it. And he might be right.’

  ‘What Derrick Gee thinks doesn't really concern me.’ He'd meant that, she could tell. There was that flash of … self-confidence that she thought had once been such a great part of his character.

  ‘Tell you what,’ he said, ‘we can compromise. I'll go with you to see this Olive for a while. Then you stay on this afternoon after five. I think I might
need a companion, and you would be just right. I'm having a visitor and you would help me cope.’

  Tania said nothing, thinking about it. He misinterpreted her silence. ‘Of course, you might have plans,’ he said. ‘I don't want to interfere with your life outside work.’

  ‘I don't have much life outside work,’ she told him, and then wished she hadn't. ‘Not a lot of life outside work? No boyfriend?’ When she didn't answer, he went on, ‘Sorry, that was a personal question and I shouldn't have asked.’

  ‘I'll answer it. No, at the moment I haven't got a boyfriend. But I'm not going to go into any more detail than that. But, yes, I would like you to come to see Olive and, yes, I will stay behind after five o'clock.’

  ‘All settled, then. Let's go to see Olive.’ Then he frowned. ‘I'll fetch something.’ When he came back he was carrying the traditional doctor's little black bag. ‘Tools of my trade,’ he told her, snapping the case open. ‘But a lot of them I don't think I can use. Could a blind man use a hypodermic syringe?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Some of our clients suffer from diabetes, and blindness isn't uncommon in diabetics. Many of them manage to inject themselves.’

  ‘I see. The more I talk to you, Tania, the more I realise that in some ways I'm lucky.’

  Olive looked even weaker than she had that morning.

  Tania saw her pale face and worried. But Olive had visitors and was delighted with them. She made more tea and fussed around Jonathan, making sure he had everything he needed. ‘You can feel the difference between digestive and Garibaldi biscuits,’ she told him. ‘Just squeeze them a little.’

  He had told her he was a doctor, said he was now just getting used to having lost his sight. ‘You could help me, Olive. Tania here says you've not been feeling too well recently. Could I try to examine you? See if I can still do it? Tania will stay here and help me.’

  ‘Just so long as you don't want me to go to hospital,’ Olive said darkly. ‘That is out of the question.’

  First he asked her about how she was feeling, her diet, her sleeping, and her bathroom habits. Then he managed to listen to her chest, and with Tania's help took her blood pressure and temperature. Finally he put his instruments away.

  ‘You're ill, Olive. You must have more tests.’

  Olive knew what that meant. ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘I'm not going to hospital.’ Jonathan felt in his bag, then turned with a puzzled expression to Tania. ‘I think I've dropped a little box of pills down the side of the seat in your car. Could you go to have a look for me? I'm sorry to be a nuisance.’ She hadn't noticed him handling any box of pills but she went anyway. Her car was parked some distance away and as she paced along the hot street she thought that this had been a waste of time. Olive wasn't going to have her mind changed for her.

  She pushed her fingers down the side of the seat but didn't find the pills. A couple of sticky sweets she had dropped, nine pence in copper coins – but no pills. Feeling irritated, she went back.

  As she entered the little hall she could hear Jonathan speaking. ‘Now, you won't let me down, Olive? We have decided on what's best, haven't we?’

  ‘I suppose so, Doctor. Though what I'm going to say to Tania I just don't –’

  ‘Take my word for it, Tania will be delighted. Now, do you think I might have another cup of tea? Just if there's one left in the pot.’

  ‘I'm sure there is. Another biscuit?’

  ‘You sent me for those pills to get me out of the room,’ Tania said viciously. ‘You never dropped anything, did you?’ They had left Olive and were driving back to Jonathan's flat.

  ‘I didn't drop anything,’ he admitted, ‘and, yes, I did want you out of the room.’

  ‘Dr. Knight, you exceeded yourself. In this situation I was the professional, you were there as a helper. You might have undermined all that I've done. I've spent weeks trying to get Olive to trust me. And –’

  ‘And we got the result you wanted. Incidentally, you were right. She is ill and she needs urgent medical attention.’

  ‘Right!’ Tania still felt irritated, but she had to admit that Jonathan had succeeded where she had failed. ‘What did you say that I didn't? How did you persuade her?’

  ‘This constant blackness has it rewards. There are things you can hear when you can't see. Olive is scared of being ill. But with you she's forced herself into a corner – she can't go to hospital and still have her pride. She's spent so much time telling you she won't go to hospital that she daren't back down. She wouldn't change her mind with you in the room. I told her I thought she was ill, that we could treat her. Then I asked her what she thought her husband would have wanted her to do. That convinced her.’

  Tania was silent for a moment. ‘Perhaps I've underestimated you,’ she muttered.

  When they got back to Jonathan's flat, he telephoned Olive's GP and asked her if it was all right for Olive to be admitted to hospital. Then he phoned Joe at the hospital, asking him to arrange an ambulance for Olive and an urgent appointment to see Eleanor in the clinic.

  ‘She'll probably be admitted,’ he finished, ‘so see that there's a bed for her.’ He listened a moment longer, then laughed and said, ‘Anything to keep working.’ Then he hung up.

  ‘Joe thinks it's wrong that I wander round the town, picking up patients,’ he said. ‘He says it's not only unethical but it's more work for him.’

  ‘You really enjoyed seeing Olive, didn't you? It gave you a kick.’

  ‘It's my job, it's what I do,’ he said. Without changing inflection, he added, ‘Or perhaps it's what I did.’

  ‘Whatever happens, you'll still be a doctor,’ Tania told him. ‘You just couldn't stop. Now, we'll start from scratch. Make yourself a bacon sandwich. And I'll have one, too.’

  As Jonathan cooked, moving carefully about the kitchen, they chatted casually about his work. She had never realised quite how interesting infectious diseases were. ‘There's a book you can borrow,’ he told her. ‘Go and look in the spare bedroom, down the corridor. I think it's by the bed.’

  She walked down the passage and opened the door. This was a room she had never visited before – and it amazed her. It was unlike all the other rooms in the flat. It was a woman's room.

  The walls were a lovely rose pink, and the curtains matched. Neatly arranged bottles on the dressing table were all of the very best. Behind the door was hanging a white silk night robe. Tania thought of her own old woollen dressing gown and sniffed. There were pictures, ornaments, a pile of Vogues and Harpers' Bazaars. She didn't look in the built-in wardrobe but she knew it would be crammed with clothes.

  So there was a woman in his life. And a woman of taste, style and money. Obviously Eleanor. Well, what had she expected?

  The spare bedroom was next door. Tania found the book he had recommended and went back to the kitchen. Jonathan had the grill on too high and he hadn't replaced the bacon in the way she had taught him to. She told him to do things right, then snapped, ‘Sorry, I went into the wrong bedroom. I didn't mean to pry.’

  ‘That's all right,’ he said calmly. ‘This grill all right now? And if you ask me nicely, I'll tell you all about her.’

  ‘Tell me all about who?’ She couldn't help it. Her voice rose slightly.

  ‘Tell you all about who the woman is whose bedroom you went into.’

  ‘Eleanor explained that you're going through a bad patch now. I guess that's why she's not here. And you're entitled to see as many women as you like. I'm not in the least interested.’

  ‘Rubbish! You've been icy and upset since you came back into this kitchen. You've judged me. Here, have a bacon sandwich.’

  Reluctantly, she sat down at the table opposite him. ‘It's nothing to me if you have a woman staying here. You're a free spirit.’

  ‘Too right I am. But you wouldn't want me to ignore my poor old mum just because I've become a successful doctor?’

  ‘Your what? Your poor old mum? That's not a mum's room – it's Eleanor's room. It's not th
e room of a –’

  ‘It's not Eleanor's room, Tania. Eleanor has never spent a night in this flat. Do you want me to tell you about her?’

  She did, quite desperately, but there was no way she was going to show her eagerness to him. ‘You can tell me if you like,’ she said, pretending indifference.

  ‘Eleanor and I were lovers – some years ago when we both worked in London. Then it ended – amicably enough, I think. I got the job as Consultant here. After some time Eleanor applied to be my specialist registrar.

  I phoned her, said I didn't think it was a good idea after we'd been so close. She said that I was spoiling her career chances because of my own prejudices. We could work together, forget the past if I gave her the chance. She had quite a valid point.’

  Tania was intrigued. ‘So you gave her a job. Has she kept her half of the bargain?’ Jonathan shrugged. ‘Up till recently,’ he said. ‘Then I had to take her home one night and she misconstrued a friendly kiss –’

  ‘A friendly kiss! I’ll bet!’

  ‘It was. Tania, I assure you it was. And I've tried to convince her of this.’

  She believed him. But why was she so pleased there was nothing serious between him and Eleanor?

  ‘Well, it's not much like a mum's room,’ she said.

  He grinned. ‘Don't be ageist, Tania. Mum might be getting on a bit but she likes to keep herself looking nice.’

  ‘Honestly, is it your mum's room? I feel a bit … well, it's not my business, but I thought –’

  ‘It's my mum's room. Incidentally, you told me earlier that you had no boyfriend at the moment. Well, I don't have a girlfriend.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘This is a very professional bacon sandwich.’

  ‘I've been well taught.’

  ‘Your mum,’ Tania said when the sandwiches had been eaten and the coffee poured, ‘where is she now? And does she know about your accident?’

  ‘Mum is working in New York. And I haven't told her that I'm blind.’

  ‘Don't you think you ought to tell her? Don't you think she's entitled to know? We find that the family is very important when getting someone to come to terms with things.’