by Suzie Twine
“Oh really, I feel a bit too sober for telling that one.”
“I’ll tell it then,” said Debbie, emptying her glass of wine, which Adam refilled for her immediately. She served up the food as she spoke.
“One day, Richard had rushed to fit in a repeat acupuncture treatment in between his GP consultations. He’d used a spare consulting room. I can’t remember what was wrong with him now Richard?”
“I was treating him for migraine.”
“So where did you have to put the needles?”
Richard paused; he wasn’t sure about telling this story to people who were relative strangers. But Debbie seemed to be tricking him into it. He took another slug of wine, “I put two here, under his nose, two to the sides of his nose and the remaining six at various points on his forehead. He did look quite funny it has to be said, he looked a bit like a fat, bald porcupine!” Richard laughed at the thought. “I asked him to stay on the couch and relax and said I would be back in half an hour to remove the needles.”
Richard looked at Debbie, waiting for her to continue with the story. “No, go on Rick, its much funnier coming from you.”
“Well, by this time I was late for my next NHS patient, which flustered me a bit, I don’t like running late and had to play catch-up for the rest of evening surgery. Even then, I finished later than I should have and still had paper work to do. Lindsey, the receptionist, knocked to say she was off home and that as I was last to leave, would I lock up. I glanced at my watch, it was seven thirty, later than I’d thought. I’d promised to get home early that night. So, I grabbed my coat and bundled my paperwork and laptop into my bag and made for the door. As I left my consulting room I heard some muffled sounds coming from the room next door, which seemed odd, after Lindsey saying I would be the last to leave.” Richard paused and took some more glugs of wine. “My first thought was whether there was an intruder in the building and as I approached the door, my second thought was, should I be going into the room unarmed? The only potential weapon I could think of, which happened to be in my bag, was my tendon hammer. I listened at the door, yes somebody was definitely in there, Lindsey must have forgotten to lock the door behind her.
“A tendon hammer? That sounds like a dangerous weapon to be wielding!” said Mel, astonished.
Richard laughed, “Hang on a minute, I’ll fetch it.” Richard disappeared briefly to his study, returning with his tendon hammer behind his back. Mel looked suspicious, while Debbie started giggling.
“Okay,” said Richard, “a demonstration of me wielding a tendon hammer. I approached the door of the room containing the ‘intruder’, thus,” he lifted a tiny wooden hammer, resembling a child’s toy, above his head. At which point Mel and the rest of the party, joined in with Debbie’s laughter. “Giving the impression of brave defender of property or complete prat? I leave you to decide. I gently opened the door and walked in, heart racing, hands shaking. A man turned towards me, “Oh my God it’s Frankenstein!” I thought. Then I realised it was my poor patient, needles still in place, looking very concerned.
““I thought you’d forgotten all about me Doc.” he said, his forehead wrinkling, making the needles point in different directions, which did look very comical, but I managed to contain my laughter! I lowered the hammer.
““Forgotten you Mr. Smith! No, I would never forget about you!” He was looking at the tendon hammer enquiringly, so I continued, “no, I was just coming in with my tendon hammer to, er,” I had to think fast. I could of course have said “to check your tendon reflexes,” but no, what came out was, “to just give some of those needles a little tap before I take them out. It’s fairly standard practice you know.” God, saying those words made me cringe! I was also beginning to wonder whether I could be struck off for malpractice. I decided if I went ahead with tapping the needles with a hammer, I probably could. So I asked him how he was feeling. The reply was that he was a bit stiff after lying on a couch for two hours, but otherwise ok. So I said in that case, no need to use the tapping method, I’d just remove the needles.”
Laughter filled the room. Mel was laughing so much at the idea of the poor old bloke with a face full of needles, she could barely breathe. “Hence, the reason I want to start seeing my private patients at home, I’m hoping to be more focused! Anyone wishing to book an appointment?”
“I have every confidence in you Richard,” said Tom, “I seemed to make a remarkable recovery after coming to see you.”
“Did you Tom,” said Debbie, sounding very excited, “that’s great news! I have to say we use homeopathy a lot for the children and very often it has a staggering effect. I think Richard ought to start doing some official research into the results he gets. I’m sick of reading in the papers about these bloody doctors, who are too closed minded to accept that there might be a place for homeopathy and acupuncture. It reminds me of all the academics who believed the world was flat and refused to believe otherwise until it was proven to them that it was round. Just because they can’t understand something scientifically, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t work.”
“All right Debs, don’t get on your high horse,” Richard said, smiling, looking like he was enjoying every second of Debbie’s rant.
“Go on Debbie, I’m enjoying it, I reckon you could take on all the sceptics singlehandedly!” said Tom.
“Well, it seems downright pompous to me to consider, homeopathy for example, as ‘hocus pocus’, I bet most of them have never even tried it, not properly. As for all this crap about it being a psychological effect of having an hour’s chat to somebody, how come it works on children, babies, animals? Sicily and Maureen have been using it on their horses with great success, on ailments that conventional veterinary medicine struggles with.” Debbie sat back in her chair and downed the remainder of her wine. “There, I’m done!”
“Come on let’s change the subject,” said Richard, knowing that he and Debbie could very easily monopolise the evening talking about alternative medicine, they were both so passionate about it.
“Before we move on,” said Mel, “we have to know, your patient, did he respond well? To the acupuncture I mean, not the incompetent care and near assault!”
“He did, fortunately. He responded very well. When he came back for his follow up, he brought a fantastic bottle of Scotch as a present! Talking of which, can I tempt anyone?”
All the men’s eyes lit-up, as did Mel’s. Richard went to fetch the bottle, while Mel, Lois and Annie cleared the table ready to serve dessert. Lois and Mel were most impressed to see Debbie produce two fantastic looking puddings from the fridge. “Tiramisu, sorry Lois, that’s not for you.”
“No, that’s for me!” said Annie, who had quietly polished off the best part of a bottle of wine and a couple of G&Ts since arriving. She took the dish from Debbie and walked out of the kitchen with it.
“Here’s yours Lois,” said Debbie, “lemon tart.”
“Wow Debbie that looks amazing! And will do me very nicely, thank you.” Lois carried it through to the dining room and was surprised to find no sign of Annie or the tiramisu. “Anyone seen Annie and a pudding?”
“Oh no, not again!” said Dave. “She’s done this before. She gets a bit pissed and the next thing you know, she’s stolen a pudding! Come on, we’d better go and find her, before she finishes it.”
“Are you serious Dave? She surely isn’t going to lock herself away somewhere and eat that whole thing!” Dave left the dining room and went to the TV room, where he immediately enlisted the help of the children to help track down Annie and the remaining tiramisu.
With so many people on her trail, Annie was soon found. Hannah discovered her, sitting on the floor in the coat cupboard by the front door. She was in the dark, in the lotus position, feeding herself with a huge serving spoon, which she was having trouble getting in and out of her mouth.
Dave came, along with the rest of the guests and having rescued the remaining two thirds of the pudding and handed it to Debbie, pu
lled Annie out of the cupboard, mumbling apologies for his disgraceful wife.
As she emerged, a small amount of tiramisu still around her mouth, Annie started to giggle. “That big spoon reminds me of a funny story,” she slurred, “do you remember Dave, when we went out to dinner with Chaz and Margaret?” Dave smiled. He remembered it well. “When it came to eating pudding, Chaz asked the waiter for a teaspoon,” Annie was spluttering with laughter, it took her a few moments to continue, “he said,” again, she laughed, making a noise that sounded a bit like a cross between a pig and a horse, “it’s just me wife’s go’ a very small mouf!”
This time they all laughed until it hurt. The thought of the voluminous Margaret needing a teaspoon because her mouth was so small, was very funny.
When the laughter died down, Dave said, “Look guys, thanks for everything. It’s been a great evening, but, bearing in mind that the wife’s as pissed as a parrot and has eaten a rather large helping of tiramisu, I think I’d better get her home, before she disgraces herself further!”
Everyone said goodnight to Annie and Dave. Dave put his arm firmly around Annie’s waist and headed out of the door, relieved to see that it had stopped raining. Lois was feeling exhausted and would happily have gone home too. But Debbie had put a huge amount of effort into making desserts and with Annie having messed up one of them, she felt she must stay and show her appreciation.
Lois found herself sitting next to Debbie when they returned to the table, who asked her where she was planning to have the baby, then immediately jumped up and said “I’ve got something for you, I’ll be back in a minute!” and disappeared.
“I wonder what it is,” said Mel, who’d overheard their short conversation, “must be something to do with birth or babies.” She thought for a moment. “A DVD on childbirth perhaps? A pair of forceps?” Mel and Lois started laughing. “Some maternity clothes that will so not fit you?”
“Thanks!” said Lois, as Debbie reappeared through the door and handed her a well-read book.
Lois looked at it. “Mamatoto,” she read, “A Celebration of Birth.”
“I found it really useful,” said Debbie. “It discusses the history of pregnancy and childbirth and different cultural beliefs and customs. The one I enjoyed most was about a tribe, where they have a two-story birthing hut. The woman who is giving birth stays on the ground floor, with a rope. Her husband is on the upper floor with the other end of the rope tied around his testicles. Every time she gets a contraction, the woman pulls on the rope!” There was a gasp from the male end of the table as they overheard Debbie’s crescendoing voice and giggles from the female end. Debbie continued, “So he can share in the pain of the contraction!”
“What a good idea!” said Mel.
“What do you think Pet? You could sit at the top of the spiral staircase?” said Lois, smiling. Tom did not look amused.
“Anyway, moving on,” said Richard, diplomatically, “when do you think you’ll be up to more mountain biking Tom? I’m thinking we could get a Saturday morning group ride organised.” He looked across at Adam.
“Yep, I’d go for that, I need something to stimulate me to get out on the bike regularly. It cost me a small fortune and I’ve hardly used it.”
“Well I think it’ll take me a while longer before I’m ready,” said Tom, who could see Lois scowling out of the corner of his eye. “Um, and before I’m allowed out? Perhaps in the new year, when our lives have settled down a bit?” He winked and smiled at Lois, who, he could see was looking exhausted. The men chatted for a few more minutes about the possibilities for cycling in the area. Then Tom said it really was time they got home to bed, before Lois fell asleep on her dessert plate.
They both thanked Debbie and Richard for a great evening and for their gift. Richard, to Tom’s great relief, offered to barrow the willow down to them the following day. “I suppose neither of you are in a position to plant it either!” said Richard; with the realisation dawning on him that he was going to end up planting the thing too. Adam came to his rescue, with an offer to do the planting, all Lois and Tom needed to do was to decide where to put it.
Richard and Adam, true to their words, arrived on Sunday morning, with Mel in tow and tree in barrow and Adam dug a large hole in the middle of the front lawn. He was relieved that the rain from the previous night had softened the ground considerably. He put a bag of manure in the hole, which was apparently one of ten which Bill had delivered to him and planted the little willow. When he’d finished patting down the soil to finish off the job, he said, “Now don’t expect us to be looking after you two forever, okay?”
“Okay,” said Tom, “we owe you one. Talking of which, we do owe you, for the roofing work. How much is it, did you give Dean an invoice?”
“Oh forget it, all part of the welcoming committee!”
“Are you sure Adam? That seems very generous.”
“My pleasure. Consider it my gift. I don’t do stuffed animals!”
Lois bought coffee and some slightly squashed cakes into the front garden for everyone. Tom told her about Adam’s gift and as they both thanked him, Charles Black shuffled his way past.
“Morning Charles,” shouted Richard, “lovely day!”
“For some it might be,” Charles grumbled to the ground, barely acknowledging any of them.
Lois, Mel and Tom exchanged glances. When Tom thought Charles was probably out of earshot, he said, “Ah, so that’ll be the delightful Mr. Black then.”
“Yup,” said Richard, “laugh a minute that one. Right, where do you want this turf and topsoil?” he asked, as he went to retrieve his full wheelbarrow.
“I’ll chuck it over the road, on the manor scrubland if you like,” said Adam, “that’s what I do with most of my garden rubbish. Nobody notices it, amongst the brambles.”
“That would be great, thanks.” Tom said and he followed Adam, through a hole in the hawthorn hedge on the opposite side of the road to see where he meant. As they emerged on the other side of the hedge, Tom was amazed to see a collection of ramshackle barns, which he had never noticed before. They were partially hidden behind a mass of brambles. Having emptied the barrow, Adam followed his gaze.
“They’re great aren’t they? Belong to the Manor. Been lying dormant for a very long time, I expect at some point the board’ll opt to apply for planning permission, who knows what monstrosity they’ll try to put there. In the meantime, come with me.”
Adam picked up a large stick and having walked around to the front of the barns, started to lever the brambles back to provide a pathway wide enough to walk through. Once in front of the main barn, he pushed one of the heavy wooden doors open and took out his phone to shed a light on the dark, gloomy interior. As Tom followed him in, they both heard a loud squeak and a rustle from the far corner. “Rats making a quick getaway,” said Adam.
Amongst the cobwebs and grime, Tom could just make out some large oak beams, a couple of wooden gates and a pair of old oak doors. “Wow, this place is amazing!”
“Yup, and I don’t think anyone ever comes here except me.”
“So when we eventually do our extension and put in a inglenook fireplace, I’ll give you a shout Adam.”
“That’s the spirit Tom. I can see you’ll soon settle into the foraging culture of the country! By the way, are you free on Wednesday night, Richard and I are planning to have a couple of pints at the Flintstone Wall?”
“Well, it would be churlish not to, wouldn’t it?”
18
Tom arrived at the cottage at six o’clock on Wednesday evening, having managed to leave the office early. He’d been staying at the flat since Monday and was astonished to walk into a clean, tidy house. The carpets were laid and the curtains hung. Lois heard the front door shut and emerged from the kitchen with a half bottle of champagne, champagne flutes and a very broad smile on her face.
“What do you think?”
“Lo, it’s amazing, you’ve done wonders in the past few days. You m
ust have worked none stop!”
“So, a celebration. Hold these.” Lois passed Tom the glasses, then expertly removed the cork from the bottle and poured the champagne very carefully. “To our perfect house!”
“Our perfect house!” repeated Tom.
They toured the cottage with Lois asking Tom his opinion of each room and Tom responding that he thought it all looked fantastic. They finished the tour in the nursery. Lois had bought a stick on border with cartoon baby elephants and mounted it a metre up the pale yellow walls. Then she’d hung matching curtains. Tom paused as he walked through the door, turning pale with shock. The reality of them having a baby suddenly hit him. He leant against the wall and slid down into a crouching position. Lois joined him. They both sat in silence for several minutes. So many contrasting thoughts flooded into Tom’s brain, he suddenly found tears welling up in his eyes. The past year had been so busy for both of them; working long hours, house hunting, and then renovating the cottage. When they had made the decision to try for a baby, he had not expected it to happen so quickly. There was the initial shock, a brief moment of wanting to run away, then the excitement of something that was going to happen, many months in the future. And now, here it was, their baby’s nursery. ‘Holy shit! How scary was this?’ he thought, ‘am I really grown up enough for this?’
“What do you think, not too twee is it?”
“No Lo. It’s,” Tom wiped his eye with the back of his hand, “it’s perfect. I can’t believe there’s going to be a little person in here soon, a real little person.”
“It’s bizarre isn’t it?” Lois said, looking down at her belly and giving it a stroke.
“It’s wonderful,” said Tom, resting his hand on Lois’s. “I’ve missed you. I can’t wait to be settled in here properly.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Anyway, I put in enough hours this week to be able to have tomorrow and Friday off, so all is well. Oh, by the way did I mention that I’ve been invited out for a drink tonight?”