The Newcomer

by Hilda Pressley

  Societies ? ' he echoed. ' Such as what ? '

  She shrugged You tell me. How do I know what there is ? Drama, for instance. I should think you'd be very good at acting.'

  You do, do you ? And what about yourself ? '

  Me ? Oh, I sing soprano, didn't you know ? '

  His surprise was complete, and Uncle John almost doubled up with laughter.

  You've met your match here, my boy, there's no doubt about it !

  So it seems,' Jim Crombie answered drily. And what do you do besides sing soprano ? ' he asked her. ' I should imagine you'd put up a pretty good performance on the stage, too. But a word of warning. Don't get too involved with any of the village societies.'

  'Why not ? '

  Too time-absorbing. I never knew anything like village societies for using up time.'

  Well, I shall just have to decide for myself, shan't I ? ' she answered.

  There was a sharp silence. Then. Jim Crombie turned to John and said sardonically:

  Got a mind of her own, too. You'd better watch it,

  John. She'll be ruling you with the proverbial rod of iron.'

  John looked across the table at Sara, his blue eyes twinkling. ' I'll stand it—and gladly. I only hope I don't work her too hard. Do you know, she took half of surgery tonight ? How'd you get on, Sara, by the way ? We haven't had time to talk about it.'

  She told him about the mix-up with the name Taylor, and he laughed, but for some reason, Jim did not find it at all amusing.

  ' I don't suppose Mrs Taylor thought it funny,' he said. You have to be careful with these people.'

  ' Do you ? ' she asked swiftly. I'm sure anyone would see the funny side of it. You're not going to tell me that Norfolk people have no sense of humour.'

  Norfolk people are the best there is,' he said with quiet emphasis, but you have to get to know them before you take liberties like poking fun at them.'

  ' I wasn't poking fun. It was a genuine mistake.'

  It seemed to her that he was being difficult, deliberately finding fault with her. She had been enjoying their repartee, thinking that perhaps Uncle John had been right. Dr Crombie's bark was certainly proving to be worse than his bite, even though he 'had a rather pungent 'wit. But she had been mistaken, it seemed. Her first impression, that of a rude, overbearing, self-opinionated man, had been the correct one. She dealt swiftly with the beginnings of hurt feelings and drew her defences about her, ready for what he should say next.

  But Uncle John's voice cut in: Now, now, children, break it up ! Jim, you ought to know better than to accuse Sara of poking fun at the patients—except in a nice way. 'She isn't the first one to make a mistake like that, hearing our Norfolk dialect for the first time.'

  Sara noticed that the laughter had faded from his eyes and that a slight frown had appeared between his brows. She sensed that it meant a lot to him that Jim Crombie

  and herself should get along well together, and her anger rose against the younger man. She kept it hidden, however, for Uncle John's sake.

  Jim Crombie smiled broadly. I stand rebuked, and I apologize. Pray forgive me, dear Dr Martindale.' Certainly, Dr Crombie.'

  She saw Uncle John's face relax, and the rest of the meal passed without any further crossing of swords, though every now and again, Sara caught a half-mocking glance from Dr Crombie, and she had the feeling that but for the presence of Uncle John, he would have made some pithy or sarcastic comment or other.

  Jessie served coffee in the sitting-room, and after asking Sara if she minded, both men lit a pipe. Sara poured out the coffee, secretly enjoying the domestic scene. She had never known her mother, and she had no brothers or sisters, so she and her father had been very close. She missed him a great deal, and seeing Uncle John sitting there so peacefully brought it home to her just how much she had been missing him recently. Jim Crombie looked at his ease, too, and she found herself wondering who kept him company in the evenings when his day's work was done, and he was not called out on a case. She wanted to ask him, but did not want to invite his sarcasm again, for Uncle John's sake, also Dr Crombie might think she was taking too much of an interest in his private affairs.

  But almost as soon as they had finished their coffee, Jim Crombie rose to go, saying he had a patient to see.

  ' Well, I must say it's been a very peaceful evening, so far,' Sara commented. Is it always like this ? '

  As she might have expected, this brought derisive laughter from Jim Crombie.

  But John Henderson smiled gently. ' Well, no, my dear, not by any means. It's been unusually quiet this evening for some reason or other. But sometimes we're just run off our feet, as the saying goes.'

  He made a movement to show the younger man out, but Dr Crombie put both hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back into his chair.

  Don't you bother, John, I can see myself out. Or better still, perhaps Dr Martindale would like the honour,' he added, giving her a significant look.

  Sara had the feeling that there was something he wanted to say to her, so keeping up the banter for Uncle John's sake, she responded:

  Delighted—if it's only to make sure you've really gone.'

  John chuckled. Better slip a coat on, Sara, if you're going outside. I don't want you catching a chill. Goodnight, Jim, see you again soon.'

  Out in the hall, Jim Crombie's face became serious. ' I should do as John says, if I were you, and get your coat,' he said, as Sara followed him to the front door. ' I'd like a few words with you, if you don't mind, and it's chilly outside. I'd—rather not talk in the hall,' he added.

  Very well. I have to go upstairs. I'll be with you in a moment.'

  She went upstairs to get a coat, feeling somehow like a schoolgirl who was about to receive a ticking off. But it was ridiculous to feel like that, she told herself. What he could have to say to her, she simply could not imagine, but she was not going to allow him to intimidate her.

  When she went outside, he was standing beside his car which now had its hood in position. An outside light attached to the wall of the house shed a soft light over the trees and shrubs and again Jim Crombie's profile, his pipe in his mouth, was etched clearly against the night sky. He turned and glanced at her coat.

  You'll have to get something warmer than that for this part of the country,' he said. When the wind's in the east it can virtually cut you in half.'

  She looked at him squarely. ' What was it you had to say to me, Dr Crombie ? '

  He took his pipe out of his mouth and looked at it for a second, then he knocked it out on the sole of his shoe and put it in his pocket before answering.

  To begin with, I think for your uncle's sake, we'd better get into the habit of calling each other Jim and Sara.'

  As you wish.'

  And for another, I think it would be best if, when he's around, we put aside any differences we might have.' She gave him an angry stare. ' Are you anticipating there will be differences ? '

  ' You must admit we haven't exactly made a good start,' he pointed out mildly.

  ' You can hardly blame me for that,' she answered tartly.

  ' If you're referring to our chance meeting at old Mrs Lovell's place, I owe you an apology. You took me by surprise and I'd had one hell of a day. On top of that I'd only been given half the message.'

  Very well, I accept your apology,' she said stiffly.

  He gave her a swift, piercing glance as if a sarcastic retort was on the tip of his tongue, but he said, one hand on the door of his car:

  I suppose you realize he's ill ?

  Of course,' she answered swiftly. Then, solemnly: To tell you the truth I'm worried about him. He had an attack this afternoon, and all he did was get up quickly from his chair. That's why I went out to see Mrs Lovell. I slipped out without his knowing.'

  Another glance from him, but no comment on her action.

  He won't let me examine him,' he said.

  ' I offered, too.'

  Jim sighed. ' He's as stubborn as a
mule. But I'm fond of the old boy.'

  That's one thing we have in common, at least,' she said with a slight smile.

  ' Yes.' There was a pause, then he opened the door of his car. Well, we can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to. I'm glad you're here, anyway, for his sake. He—enjoyed our backchat, obviously. As I said, maybe we can agree to differ or whatever. But you'd better go in now or he'll wonder what's keeping you. Of course you could always say we've been having a friendly chat. That will please him no end. 'Night.'

  She was so angry, she couldn't answer him. He was quite set on the idea that they'd have to pretend to like each other, it seemed, which could only mean one thing. He had already quite made up his mind that he disliked her. Her lips compressed tightly, she went back into the house. It was a very long time since she had felt so angry with anyone. He really was a most insufferable man. Fortunately, they would not be exactly working together. She hung up her coat on the hall stand and forcing a smile, went back into the sitting-room.

  ' Well now,' John greeted her, ' what do you think of him now you've met him in more congenial circumstances, eh ? '

  Oh,- not bad at all. He has quite a sense of humour,' she said, playing for safety.

  Yes—but I must say you brought him out. I knew you'd like each other. I said you would, didn't I ? '

  She smiled and sat down. Uncle John, do you think we could get down to that routine you mentioned ? I mean—how would you like us to work ? '

  He puffed away at his pipe. Well, my dear, I should think we could take surgery in turn. You can have a week of morning surgeries, then a week of evenings, if you like. Something like that. Same with routine visits. While you're taking surgery, I go out on the rounds and vice versa. All right ? Of course, once you get going,

  I've no doubt you'll acquire your own patients, as it were. But I'm sure we shall fit in quite nicely.'

  ' Yes, I'm sure we shall, and your idea of alternating surgery and visits sounds fine.'

  But he detected a note of doubt in her voice which she had hoped he would.

  If you have any other ideas, don't hesitate to tell me. In fact, you must regard this as a partnership—which I hope it will be as soon as you feel you're settled.'

  She smiled. Thanks, Uncle John, but you don't need to worry about that. I was only thinking that—well, if it's all the same to you, I'd much rather—that is, in general—be out and about on visits than sitting in surgery.'

  He smiled across at her, his eyes narrowing keenly. ' Are you trying to save me from effort, Sara, my dear ? '

  ' Why no, Uncle— ' she denied swiftly.

  Sure ? I think you are, you know.'

  There was nothing to be gained in being too emphatic, she felt, so she conceded:

  Well, maybe I am, a little. But quite honestly, Uncle John, I wou/d rather be out. I never did care much for taking surgery.'

  There was sufficient truth in this for it not to be a lie, and John appeared satisfied.

  All right, my dear, if that's how you really feel. Of course, I'll have to go out sometimes on visits, otherwise the folk of Norton will think I'm losing interest in them. Besides, it might happen—will in all probability—that an urgent call will come in when you're already out.' Ile paused, then went on: And while we're on the subject, there's the question of night calls. We shall take those in turn.'

  No, Uncle John ! '

  He looked at her astonished. ' My dear Sara

  She subsided a little. I’m uncle John. I didn't mean to sound so emphatic. But, really, we ought to be sensible about this.'

  You mean I ought to be sensible.'

  I just want you to be reasonable. Let's face it. I'm young and fit, you're—not so young and not very fit. So it's only common sense that if there's any getting up in the middle of the night to be done, I should be the one to do it. I would feel the same if the boot was on the other foot. Besides, that's another thing I enjoy, believe it or not.'

  He looked at her disbelievingly. What—being

  dragged out of your bed in the middle of the night ? '

  ' Well—yes,' she confessed. ' There's a sort of drama attached to it, a feeling of being wanted-- '

  He grinned. Oh, you're usually wanted all right— though not always, if it's a false alarm.'

  Then let's say it gives me a sense of importance. Whichever way it is, I love being up and about when the rest of the world's asleep.'

  All right, you win. You'd talk the hind leg off a donkey, wouldn't you ? No wonder Jim Crombie warned me about you,' he said teasingly.

  She let the last remark pass without comment, well satisfied that Uncle John had given in to her about going out on visits, particularly at night. When his heart was a little stronger—which she hoped it would be with more rest—some visits in good weather would do him good, but at all costs she wanted to prevent his going out when the weather was bad, or jumping up suddenly in the middle of the night.

  It was not until she retired for the night that she realized there was no telephone in her room—a matter Uncle John had apparently overlooked. She made sure that the switch was right for the telephone hell to ring in the hall, then left her bedroom door ajar so as to be sure of hearing it if there were any calls during the night. First thing tomorrow morning she must ring

  up the G.P.O. and have an extension fixed beside her bed.

  Tired now, as a result of her long journey and the excitement of being in a new place, she settled happily off to sleep, feeling she really had a job to do here, that she was meeting a need. The future lay before her pleasantly, with no undue complications. Resolutely, she turned a deaf ear to a voice which whispered the name of Dr Jim Crombie into her ear.

  Sara thoroughly enjoyed the next day or so. Although she had always loved the country, this was the first time she had actually lived in a real country area like this. There was all the difference in the world between the Yorkshire mining villages she had recently left and these agricultural villages. There, much of the countryside between the towns and villages was spoilt by unsightly pitheads and slag heaps. Here, the only heaps were those of piled-up sugar beet, and in place of chimneystacks there were haystacks. How different the people were, too, their dialect, their outlook on life. The quiet reserve of these country people, their slow, soft, musical speech, was in direct contrast with the uninhibited friendliness, the blunt outspokenness of the Northerners.

  She called to see a farm labourer who was suffering from acute bronchitis. He was a man nearing retirement, and to Sara's surprise he was alone in the house.

  ' Your wife shopping, Mr Scott ? ' she asked him. He shook his head. ' She's out at work, but she'll be back by one o'clock.'

  Out at work ? ' she repeated incredulously. ' How old is she ? '

  Oh—sixty-two or three. ' ain't my fault she goes out, Doctor. I earns as much as I can ' He broke off and coughed painfully.

  ' Yes, of course, I'm sure you do,' she said swiftly.

  I wasn't blaming you. Now let me listen to this chest of yours.'

  There was the usual bronchial fremitus, and on auscultation, numerous rales and rhonchi, but mercifully, there was no bronchopneumonia at the base of the lungs.

  Have you finished the medicine Dr Henderson prescribed for you ? ' she asked.

  Nearly, Doctor. The bottle's over there on the washstand.'

  And is your cough any looser than. it was ? Some, but still tight.'

  I see. Well, we'll keep you on the same mixture for another day or two.' She wrote out a prescription for a mixture containing ipecacuanha and other expectorant drugs. I suppose you caught this working out on the farm in all weathers ? '

  He nodded. One of the 'azards of the profession, you might say. It's ploughin' as does it, mostly. Settin' up on them thar tractors.'

  I suppose so. Why don't they have hoods on or something like a car has ? '

  Jack Scott stared at her. Lord, I ain't never 'eard

  o such a thing as a 'ood on a tractor!'


  o such a thing as a 'ood on a tractor!

  I don't suppose you have,' she answered grimly. For the simple reason that nobody thinks of anything so sensible. Is there anything I can get you while I'm here, Mr Scott ? A cup of coffee or anything ? '

  But his wife had very thoughtfully made coffee for him in a flask as well as leaving him supplied with a jug of fruit drink, and so she said good morning and left him. The house was scrupulously clean, she noticed, as she went through the living-room, but though the cottage had. electricity, there was no water, or even. a sink, and obviously no bathroom, hot water system or indoor toilet. It was ironical that in these days of space travel the ordinary, common amenities were still denied to people like the Scotts.

  She visited a forester's wife who did have all the modern amenities, and an old man who did not; the postman who lived in a modern house which had everything, including central heating, and a woman whose husband had completely modernized a picturesque thatched cottage. The practice generally was spread out over a fairly large area, and a number of times she had to stop and ask her way. Though there were signposts in plenty, street names were more often than otherwise absent, and some of the roads were little more than cart tracks.

  All the same, she loved the area, in particular the forest, and whenever possible took one of the roads which led through its autumn loveliness. By the end of the first busy day, she had quite a respect for these country people, and by the end of the second her respect had increased. And everywhere she found warm, shy friendliness. She did not see Jim Crombie until the evening Uncle John and she went to dinner to his daughter Alys's house. Alys had arranged quite a party.

  Here are a few people I'd like you to meet, Sara,' she said, ushering her into the sitting-room of the large school house. The Reverend Mr and Mrs Ready— '

  Sara shook hands with a bright and intelligent-looking middle -aged couple.

  How do you do.'

  . . and this is Mr and Mrs Williams who own the biggest farm hereabouts

  ' Good evening.' Were they the employers of Jack Scott ? she wondered.