The Village Doctor's Marriage

by Abigail Gordon

  Before she could get to it Steve had answered and she heard him say, ‘I’ll be there as soon as I’ve got some clothes on.’

  She was out of bed in a flash. The call had to be connected with Philip Gresty. He was the only person Steve was available to out of hours. Anyone else would have to ring the emergency doctor service.

  He was replacing the receiver when she appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, heavy-eyed and wraith-like in a white cotton nightdress.

  ‘Is it Philip?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘He’s having breathing problems and Anna says his oxygen has almost run out. They’ve sent for an ambulance, but I want to see him for myself.’

  ‘Have you had any sleep?’

  ‘Yes.’ He was grabbing his bag. ‘I’ll see you when I see you.’ As he ran down the stairs he called over his shoulder, ‘I hope I don’t get stopped by the police again.’

  He was back within the hour and found her seated at the kitchen table, sipping at a mug of tea. As she observed him questioningly he said, ‘They’ve admitted Philip to hospital after stabilising his breathing with a fresh supply of oxygen. It’s just to be on the safe side. He’ll probably be back home tomorrow.’

  ‘I said I would go with him, but Anna and Janine were by his side in the ambulance and, as we are both aware, the A and E don’t like all the neighbourhood turning up.’

  He cast a troubled glance in her direction. ‘You’ve had another disturbed night again, haven’t you? I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise for being there for that poor man,’ she protested gently. ‘Sit down and I’ll make you a drink. What would you like?’

  ‘Nothing, thanks,’ he said sombrely. ‘I’m ready to hit the sack again and I’m sure you are, too. Is Liam all right?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. Sleeping the sleep of the innocent.’

  He was moving towards the spare room and she didn’t want him to go. She could tell he was in low spirits, and she wanted to hold him close and show him that she hadn’t stopped caring, but the door was closing behind him. The moment was lost, and she wasn’t sure how she would have handled it if it hadn’t been.

  She’d already done Steve no favours with the way she’d behaved on the morning of the Gresty wedding, almost begging him to make love to her and then changing her mind at the last moment.

  He was still in a sombre mood at breakfast and the desire to offer comfort was still there if he would tell her what was wrong. Steve was a positive thinker, not a man of moods, but something was getting to him.

  Maybe it was Philip’s condition that was upsetting him, or perhaps something she had said or done. The week that had started well with the nativity play had deteriorated with Liam’s teething problems and Steve being called out to his friend in the middle of the night.

  They needed some brightness in their lives. A visit to the theatre or a good film at the cinema maybe. But there was Liam to consider, and when Hannah had been at the apartment all day, it was too much to ask her to come back in the evening.

  There was no one else she would trust with Melanie’s child and she knew that Steve would feel the same way. Their sense of responsibility was strong and, that being so, they would be staying put.

  The decision was sidetracked almost before it was made when Hannah arrived with a handful of tickets she was trying to sell for a beetle drive in the village hall that evening.

  Steve had already gone down to the surgery, so it was to Sallie that she said, ‘It’s not in my line. But if you and Dr Beaumont would like to go, I’ll come round to mind young Liam.’

  It would be a far cry from the theatre or the cinema, Sallie thought, throwing dice and waiting for a six to start making a drawing of a beetle, but it might cheer Steve up to get out of the apartment for a couple of hours.

  ‘Yes, we’ll have a couple of tickets,’ she told her. ‘As long as you don’t mind babysitting.’

  When the two doctors went upstairs at lunchtime Sallie said to Steve, ‘How do you fancy hitting the high spots tonight?’

  ‘I’m not with you,’ he told her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve got two tickets for a beetle drive at the village hall. Hannah says she’ll babysit for us and I thought a few hours away from our responsibilities would be relaxing, as you seem to be down in the dumps.’

  ‘I am feeling a bit low,’ he admitted, ‘but there’s no call for you to concern yourself. The problem is entirely mine.’

  ‘So what is it?’

  ‘The usual thing. Regrets and frustration. When I saw the state of Philip last night it was brought home to me how important it is to make the most of every moment of every day, instead of looking for somewhere to hide in when things go wrong. Thanks for taking pity on me, but I think I’ll give the beetle drive a miss.’

  A couple of days later they woke up to dire warnings on television and radio of severe weather on its way, but, with the keys to the dream house jangling in his pocket, Steve barely heard them.

  The night before, when the workmen had gone and the site had been cleared, he had met Jack there and the builder had officially handed over the keys.

  ‘We only finished the lily pond and the gazebo at lunchtime,’ Jack had told him, and as he’d looked around him he’d said, ‘Your wife is a very fortunate woman, Dr Beaumont. I know that mine would love a place like this. But I’m always so busy building houses for other folk, I never find the time to build one for us. We’re still living in the semi we bought twenty-five years ago when we got married.’

  Sallie had watched Steve depart into the night quite unaware that he’d been hoping it would be the last time that he disappeared without explanation. He’d intended taking her round to the house the next day and carrying her over the threshold. After that he would be holding his breath.

  When he’d gone she decided that in his absence she would wrap the Christmas gifts she’d bought for him. Among them was a watch that he’d admired in the window of the jeweller’s in the village and a telescope that she knew he was interested in.

  Neither of them were mind-blowing choices. She knew that the only thing he wanted from her was herself, and so far she hadn’t been able to give it. She’d been so near to it on the morning of Janine Gresty’s wedding, but memories had got in the way.

  And now it was going to be the strangest Christmas of their married life. The three previous ones had been non-events because they’d been separated. Would this one be any different? They were back together, but in every way that mattered they were still apart.

  When she’d heard him come back from wherever he’d been, she’d pushed the gifts back into the cupboard unwrapped, and her dejection had been replaced by irritation, because for some reason Steve had come back with a satisfied smile on his face.

  As they listened to the weather forecast, it was one of the mornings when she wasn’t sorry to be living above the surgery, as outside there was sleet and a biting wind. Roads and pavements were icy and snow was on its way.

  ‘Try not to be too long on your house calls,’ Steve said. ‘There’s somewhere I want to take you in the lunch-hour.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ she exclaimed. ‘Have you seen the weather?’

  ‘Yes, I have, but we won’t be going far.’ And that was it, as it was almost time for Hannah to appear, and Liam had just dropped his empty cereal dish over the side of his high chair. But it left her curious and she wondered if Steve was going to show her the mysterious accommodation he’d found for Melanie and her family.

  Margaret Chalmers, who owned a craft shop in the village, was Sallie’s first patient that morning, and when she’d seated herself the two women exchanged smiles, though Margaret’s was rather tense.

  ‘Your receptionist phoned to say that you’ve got the results back from the tests,’ she said without wasting any time.

  ‘Yes, we have,’ Sallie told her, not happy about what she had to say next, ‘and they show that the tendency towards breast cancer that runs in your family is
there in you, Margaret.’

  It was like the Janine Gresty scenario all over again, she thought. Except for the fact that Janine was in no hurry to know. She watched the colour drain from Margaret’s face and wished that what she’d had to tell her could have been different, but it had to be said.

  ‘Your sister was wise to persuade you that you should both be tested to see if either of you are at risk. The results show that she is clear of the inherited genetic abnormality but you have it, and there is a strong possibility that at some time in your life you may develop breast cancer.’

  ‘I didn’t want to go for the tests,’ Margaret said tearfully, ‘but she wouldn’t let it rest, and now she has peace of mind and I’ll be living in dread.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be like that, Margaret,’ Sallie told her gently. ‘Just because you’ve discovered this, it doesn’t mean that you are going to get breast cancer. Now that we know the score, you’ll be asked to go for regular checks, which means that at the very first sign of anything we’ll be on your case.’

  The woman seated across from her was in her fifties, pleasant, hard-working, with two grown-up sons and a husband who was the local policeman. Sallie thought that from this moment Margaret’s life was going to change, but only if she let it.

  She hoped that when she had calmed down Margaret would realise the wisdom of having the tests and feel more positive. That she would see herself as fortunate, rather than unlucky, to be living in an age when such safeguards were available.

  ‘I’m not going to tell my boys about this,’ she said as she got up to go. ‘No point in blighting their young lives.’

  ‘No point in blighting yours either,’ Sallie told her. ‘It might never happen. But if it should, the appropriate medical services will be at your disposal.’

  Margaret nodded sombrely. ‘Thanks for helping me to face up to it. The next thing I must do is speak to my sister. I don’t want her having a guilt trip over this.’

  ‘Yes, do that,’ Sallie agreed, ‘and don’t forget, you know where to find me if you need me.’

  ‘You’re looking very serious,’ Steve said when he came into her room shortly afterwards while searching for a patient’s records. ‘Was that Margaret Chalmers I saw going out a few moments ago?’

  ‘Yes. I have just had to tell her she has a high risk of getting breast cancer, and it reminded me of what you said when you’d been to visit Philip the other night. That we should grasp each day as it comes. That life is to be lived one day at a time. Yesterday, whether good or bad, has been and gone, and tomorrow has yet to come.’

  ‘Very philosophical,’ he commented wryly. ‘Did I say that? And which one of us does that apply to?’

  Her smile was meant to be reassuring as she told him, ‘You said something of the sort. Maybe there’s a message in it for both of us.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said, and went back to his patients.

  He intended calling at the Grestys’ after surgery as Philip was home from hospital and his tomorrows weren’t looking very good at all. Swallowing and breathing were getting to be more difficult for him and he was confined to a wheelchair all the time now. It was frustrating that he could do so little for the man, but Anna knew that he would be there in a flash if they needed him, as had been the case a couple of nights ago.

  Sallie had just seen off her last patient and was having a quick coffee before starting her calls when one of the receptionists came in to say that there’d been a call from Jennifer Maxwell to say she’d had a fall and would Dr Stephen Beaumont call to see her.

  ‘Not Dr Sallie Beaumont,’ the receptionist commented laughingly. ‘It would seem that our elderly actress friend likes your husband. He left twenty minutes ago, and asked us to tell you that he’ll be back as soon as he can.’

  Sallie frowned. In keeping with the weather forecast, the sleet had turned to snow. Big white flakes had been falling steadily for the last two hours and were turning the village into a winter wonderland. Beautiful to the eye, but a danger to anyone out on the tops, and Jennifer Maxwell’s house was high up there in a remote lane.

  There were no workmen in sight when Steve arrived, just high white drifts that the wind had blown up to doors and windows. He was going to have to move some of the snow before he could get into the house.

  He had a shovel and a blanket in the back of the car, which he always carried in case he was ever trapped in this kind of weather while out on his rounds, and with speed and efficiency he began to shovel the snow away so that Jennifer would be able to get out if she had to, and he would be able to get in.

  He saw that she was watching him from one of the windows and thought that at least she appeared to be on her feet. Snow shifting didn’t come within the remit of the country GP, he thought wryly, but somebody had to keep their eye on Jennifer.

  ‘I was coming down the stairs and tripped over the cord of my dressing-gown on the last two steps,’ she told him as he opened the door and let in a blast of cold air. ‘I think I might have fractured my elbow.’

  She was holding her left arm across her waist in a bent position and he could see without touching it that the elbow didn’t look right.

  Still in the offending dressing-gown and nightdress, she was ashen-faced and shivering, either from cold or shock, or maybe both, as the house didn’t feel very warm inside. He glanced out of the window. The snow was drifting up against the walls and doors again and he needed an ambulance.

  ‘I’m going to send for the emergency services,’ he told her. ‘They will take you to A and E for X-rays, and I’m going to ask them not to send you home until they’ve checked that your house is accessible. The gritters are out on the side roads as well as the main ones, but up here is something else. We’ll just have to hope they can get through.’

  ‘And what if they can’t?’

  ‘We’ll have to play it as it comes,’ he told her, as his dream of showing Sallie the house began to fade. Bringing his thoughts back to the present, he examined her elbow, and put the injured arm into a sling before asking, ‘Have you had any breakfast?’

  Jennifer shook her head. ‘No. I’d only just got up and was coming downstairs to make a cup of tea.’

  ‘I see.’

  He would have liked to have made her one, she looked as if she could do with it, but if they had to operate, the fact that she’d had no food or drink since the previous night would speed up the process.

  ‘I’m going to go and take a blanket off your bed to wrap round you,’ he said as she continued to shiver, ‘and perhaps, with a hot-water bottle tucked inside it, you will get warm.’

  She managed a grimace of a smile. ‘I suppose country life does have its advantages,’ she called after him as he climbed the stairs. ‘When one’s GP is like you.’

  The ambulance did get through, but it took half an hour and by that time the colour had come back to the injured woman’s cheeks.

  ‘We mustn’t linger,’ the older of the two paramedics said after Steve had explained why he’d sent for them, ‘or we’ll be snowed in here and so will you, Dr Beaumont, if you don’t get moving.’

  ‘Yes. I know,’ he said flatly.

  This was to have been the day he gave Sallie her dream house and if he didn’t look sharp he could be stranded miles from anywhere in what was turning into a blizzard.

  The paramedics had put Jennifer on a stretcher before carefully transferring her to the ambulance. While they were doing that, Steve saw that the key was in the front door. He locked it quickly and dropped it into the pocket of her dressing-gown, submerged beneath the blanket.

  ‘I’ll ring A and E tonight to find out what they’ve done about your arm,’ he told her. ‘They might have to operate, and if they do Sallie and I will be in to see you.’

  Still a woman of few words, she nodded then was gone. Now it was his turn to make a quick back track to civilisation, but it wasn’t that easy. For the first mile he drove in the tracks that the ambulance had left in the snow, but when he
came to where it had turned off, heading for the town and the nearest hospital, he was onto deep unbroken snow and the engine stalled.

  While Steve was deciding what to do, with the snow continuing to fall relentlessly and his car refusing to budge, Sallie had just got back from visiting a young mother with a new baby girl who was having trouble breast-feeding. Her breasts were very sore, to the extent that she dreaded feeding time, yet at the same time was frantic because the baby wasn’t putting on any weight.

  The midwife had been to see her and advised that she should persevere, which hadn’t surprised Sallie as Joan Adams was fanatically keen for all mothers to breast-feed. But as far as she, Sallie, was concerned, it should be what was best for mother and baby, and after observing the extreme tenderness of the young woman’s breasts and taking note of angry little fists waving from the baby’s crib, she suggested, ‘Give her a bottle for a day or two until your breasts are less painful. In that time the milk will increase so that when she goes back on the breast she will be satisfied. If you find there is too much milk accumulating, express it and put it in the fridge to give to the baby at alternate feeds.’

  ‘You must think I’m stupid,’ the worried mother said tearfully.

  ‘Not at all. Some mothers have no trouble with breast-feeding, but for others it’s a nightmare. When I get back to the surgery I’ll have a word with the midwife and tell her what I’ve advised you to do.’

  ‘She won’t like it.’

  ‘Your welfare and the baby’s come before an outsider’s personal preferences. How often have you seen her since the birth two weeks ago?’

  ‘A few times, but she can never stay long. She has a heavy workload.’

  Haven’t we all? Sallie thought wryly, but she was aware that Joan needed extra help from the authorities and she wasn’t getting it.

  Sallie expected Steve to be waiting for her when she got back to the surgery, but his car wasn’t there and neither was he. It was almost two o’clock. If he wanted to take her on this mysterious errand before late surgery, he would have to hurry, she thought.