All right, so you'll go on putting people's backs up and achieve exactly nothing,' Jim Crombie retorted.
' How do you know it will achieve nothing ? At least it will make somebody think—which is more than your silent, polite, tactful methods will do ! '
For the moment, Uncle John was forgotten as the two came back to each other. Then as Jim glowered across at Sara, apparently gathering his thoughts for a further thrust, Uncle John laughed.
Go on, Jim. Not stuck for words, are you ? My goodness, it's a treat to listen to you two going on. Want me to hold your coats ? '
Sara subsided a little shamefacedly. Thank goodness
he was not taking them seriously. Jim glanced across at John, smiled slightly and took .out his pipe.
This niece-by-adoption of yours is a holy terror, John. What are we going to do with her ? '
John Henderson chuckled. Looks as if she's going to make her mark one way and another, anyhow. The trouble is, Jim, you and I, and most of us hereabouts, have lived with these things for too long. We've got used to them. It often needs a newcomer to point out where things are wrong. Or at any rate to stir us up. We don't really need telling that the state of half our cottages is still deplorable.'
The only thing is, we just can't dictate to people,' Jim said more quietly than the tone he had used with Sara. ' It's a democracy. If there's a tap adjacent to the house, and a loo up the garden, far enough away from the house, people who own these old properties are just within the law. As to tractors with hoods—I don't suppose anybody has even thought about it. In any case, Mrs Williams is hardly to blame, or any other farmer's wife. Nor are they responsible for the farm worker's wages.'
For your information,' Sara said, on the defensive once more, I didn't say Mrs Williams was to blame. I said nothing to her. She attacked vie—more or less.'
Jim eyed her with raised brows, then took his pipe out of his mouth and pointed it at her.
' Only a few minutes ago, you said you had " a thing " against people who would rather hand out charity than pay decent wages, and so on. As I believe Mrs Williams went to see Scott and took him a few items to build up his strength, to whom else could you have been referring, if not to her ? She did a kind action and you threw it back in her face, as it were.'
I did no such thing! 'she said indignantly. 'Oh, Uncle John, he's impossible ! He really is.'
John Henderson merely smiled. Jim Crombie
smiled, too, but his was one of cynical amusement. He rose to his feet.
I'd better be getting along. Thanks for the tea, John. And thank you, Sara— ' he said mockingly, for the conversation. Most revealing.'
Sara felt she could have hit him with something. I'm glad you think so. It's been revealing to me, too.'
She was angry, but somewhere deep inside, she was hurt, too. Why ? she ask-ed herself as she saw him to the door to save Uncle John getting -up.
At the door, Jim turned to her. ' Let me give you a word of advice, Sara. Go easy with these people around here. Rushing to the defence of the under-dog gives you a nice warm glow, I dare say, and. being in the right affords you much satisfaction. But remember the bull in the china shop. He didn't do much good, did he ? '
At the gross injustice of his words and. his intense sarcasm she was too enraged to speak for a moment.
How dare you accuse me of any of those things ? As to your reference to a bull in a china shop, I haven't barged in anywhere.'
No ? You haven't been here more than five minutes and you've already upset two of the most prominent women in the village. Notably, the vicar's wife, and the wife of one of the biggest farmers in the district.'
Her eyes blazed, and she was aware of a peculiar sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Thank you very much indeed,' she said, her voice shaking with anger. I know where I stand with you, at any rate, don't I ? '
Then, unable to trust herself to remain in his company any longer, she turned and left him. Her lips tightly -compressed, her breath coming swiftly, she felt she could not trust herself to go back to Uncle John until she had composed herself. She went upstairs to her
room, and from her window watched as Jim Crombie started his car and backed it round.
She tried to work up a dislike for him as well as her anger, but somehow she couldn't. Instead, she found tears coming into her eyes. As he drove away, she moved away from the window, angry now with herself. This was ridiculous. What was there to cry about ? She sat down on the bed and put the back of her hand to her mouth. Then determinedly she gathered together the shreds of her self-esteem. She took a deep breath. All right, so she didn't dislike him, infuriating as he was. She must just leave it at that. She stood up and squared her shoulders, then blew her nose and went downstairs again to Uncle John.
CHAPTER IV
It was Sara's turn to take surgery that evening, and she was glad. Sitting at the large desk in the consulting-room listening to their complaints, and in some cases their personal problems, too, nagging, disquieting thoughts about Jim Crombie were dispelled.
One patient was a young married woman, very pretty with long fair hair.
I—think I'm going to have a baby, Doctor,' she said worriedly.
Sara smiled. Well, don't look so unhappy about it. There's no reason why you shouldn't, is there ? '
' No—but—well, I hardly know anybody around here. We've only just come to live here, and- ,-- '
I see, and you're feeling lonely and a bit scared. Well, don't worry. Everythingwill be all right, I feel sure.' But the girl was not going to be placated so easily. Her lips quivered and a look of resentment showed on her face.
' It's all very well for you doctors to sit there and say everything's going to be all right. You don't know what it's like to be in a strange place, miles away from any of your family. I never wanted to come here in the first place. People are ready enough to say good morning and so forth, but that's about as far as you get. There's nobody to talk to—'
How long have you been here ? ' Sara asked her quietly.
' About three weeks.'
Well, it may surprise you to know that I'm a stranger in these parts, too—and I'm having my difficulties. But suppose we talk about yours ? '
The young woman stared at her. You mean you haven't been here very long ? I'm sorry, Doctor. I
shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I suppose I'm all strung up.'
' That's all right, I understand. Suppose you tell me your name, then we shall really feel that we know each other.'
' It's Carter. Rosemary Carter.'
` And this is your first baby ? '
Rosemary nodded. I had an idea I was pregnant before we moved, but
Have you seen a doctor about it before ?
'No. But. I'm pretty sure.'
I see. Well, let's get a few dates and things down, shall we ? '
A few questions confirmed Mrs Carter's own diagnosis. Sara filled in the necessary forms, one for the local government office, one for blood tests, and another on her own and Uncle John's account.
Now, up on the couch with you and let me see what's going on.'
Sara palpated the girl's abdomen and felt the gentle rise of the fundus about her symphysis pubis. A quick test of her urine found no abnormalities.
Right, that will be all for now, Rosemary. Don't come to the surgery. I'll come and see you. There are still some middle-aged women who'll fill your head full of weird stories. I'll arrange for the district nurse to call and see you.'
Rosemary pulled a 'little face. What's she like ?
Fat and forty with bunions ? '
Who ? Nurse Draper ? ' Sara laughed. She
certainly isn't. She's around your age. You'll like her. There is an older midwife who relieves her on her days off, but she's very nice, too. You'll find them both very friendly and most helpful. Er—you are at home all day, aren't you ? Not working ? '
But Rosemary was working—at one of the factories at Ketford.
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Keith didn't Want to live in the town—though of course it's very nice there. But he's always loved the country. So' do I, but it's—awfully quiet and lonely. In the evenings, I mean, and at week-ends. I didn't want to give up yet, but I suppose I'd better.'
What about finances ? Any problems there ? ' asked Sara.
Not really. I think we shall manage.'
Sara would have liked to talk to her some more, but other patients were waiting to be seen.
I'll be seeing you again before long, Rosemary. You've nothing much to worry about, really, but I'd give up work as soon as possible. Give me a ring if anything crops up that does worry you. As to making friends, I'm sure you will soon. But it takes a little time, and actually you haven't been here very long, have you ? '
No, not really.' Rosemary thanked Sara, then went out.
Sara smiled to herself. Poor little thing Some people might think she was making a fuss about nothing. But having a first baby was a tremendous experience as it was. And to be having it in. a strange place away from one's family must be rather terrifying. Sara wondered how she could help her to make friends a little more quickly. Perhaps Alys could help.
A tall giant of a man entered the consulting-room next. He was well Over six feet, broad, loose-limbed, but his clothes seemed several sizes too large for him.
Sara said good evening and invited him to sit down. 'What can I. do for you, Mr-- '
Marsh. Godfrey Marsh. I—really wanted to see the old doctor, Dr Henderson.'
Sara smiled. Won't I do ? I don't want to disturb Dr Henderson if I can help it. But if you insist—he'll be taking morning surgery.'
The man frowned. I can't come in the mornings. At least, not very easily. I'm working.'
Yes, of course. Can't you tell me what the trouble is, Mr Marsh ? '
He frowned. Well, it's a bit vague, you see. My wife nagged me to come, otherwise I don't suppose I. should have bothered. But I've lost such a lot of weight lately.'
Yes, I can see that. Are you eating well ? '
Yes, Doctor. That's the funny part about it. I eat well—and drink I get so thirsty—but it seems to go right through me. And the wife's getting scared. You know what women are—begging your pardon, Doctor. But she came home today and said she'd been talking to somebody who had exactly the same symptoms—or rather this woman's husband had—and it turned out to be sugar diabetes. I said it was a lot of nonsense. Nobody either side of the family has it.'
Sara smiled slightly. I'm afraid it sounds very much like it to me, too. Diabetes, I mean. But don't let it worry you. Once we find out for sure and discover to what extent— But tell me. Have you a cough ? '
He shook his head. ' No, I've no cough.'
But you do have a general feeling of weakness ? Oh yes, I have that all right. And with eating so well, you see '
Yes, I know. Let me see your tongue, Mr Marsh.'
He put .out his tongue. It was large, dry and red like a piece of raw beef, typical of diabetes mellitus.
Hm. Have you had any boils or anything like that, lately ? ' she asked.
I've had one or two, as b. matter of fact,' he answered in a surprised tone.
It's not surprising really, Mr Marsh, if indeed you have diabetes. But before being definite I must test your urine.' She indicated a small room in the corner of the consulting-room. In there, you'll find some
test tubes. All right ? '
He nodded, and shuffled into the little room like a
melancholy St Bernard. Poor man, thought Sara. What a shock these kind of things must be to a person. He was out again in a few minutes, and while he waited, she made the test. As she expected, the result was positive—a bright orange.
I'm afraid there doesn't seem to be much doubt about it, Mr Marsh,' she told him. I suppose you know what diabetes is ? '
I don't know as I do, really,'
Well, briefly, it's the inability of the body to store sugar until it's needed. A substance called insulin usually does this, but in your case, as in the case of all diabetics, this substance is lacking. That's why you have all these symptoms—wasting, thirst and so on. The sugar is all going to waste in your blood and urine. So what we'll have to do is give you insulin artificially—by injection.'
The atiology was not quite as simple as she had put it, of course. It was a complex series of disturbances involving all the body systems and the metabolism of fat and protein as well as carbohydrate, also of auto-immune diseases, about which so little was known as yet. But she had told him sufficient for him to understand something of what was happening.
Shall I have to have injections for the rest of my life ? ' he asked dismally.
She smiled gently. Possibly. But don't let that worry you, Mr Marsh. You'll get so much used to it, you'll think nothing of it. You'll take it in your stride like—having a shave every morning. Because you'll learn to give it yourself, of course. It's very simple. And you'll feel so much better, so normal, in fact— But we're jumping ahead a little. Before we start on any treatment I want you to go into hospital for a little while to have blood tests and things. Because, you see, your diet will have to be controlled, too.'
Oh dear !'
There's nothing to it once you get used to it,' she assured him quickly. I'll let you know when you're to go in. In the meantime, stop taking sugar in your tea—and don't go to work.'
She made him out a certificate for his employer and asked him where he worked.
I work for the Forestry Commission.'
' Really ? How interesting. Do you like it ? ' Oh yes, very much.'
She handed him his certificate and said goodnight to him, resisting the temptation to ask him whether he lived in accommodation provided by the Commission and what it was like. She couldn't ever remember being so interested in this sort of thing before. Why was it ? she wondered. Surely not just idle curiosity ? Perhaps it was because, hitherto, she had practised medicine in suburban districts. She supposed that, if she had even practised in or near a slum area of a large city, her interest there would have been in housing conditions, too.
Surgery finished, she went out on one or two calls. One was an elderly woman with pneumonia, who lived alone, but her daughter had promised to take care of her, when Sara had suggested hospital. Sara wanted to be quite sure that the daughter was with her, and also that the old lady was making satisfactory progress. She was relieved to find a slight improvement, also to find that her daughter, along with her husband and two small children, had moved in altogether for a while. The cottage was only small, but had been modernized to the extent of having a small bathroom built on, electric light in the rooms downstairs and one cold water tap on a sink. A small supply of hot water was provided by means of a boiler to one side of the living-room fireplace, ladled out by means of an enamel jug.
Her other patient was a young man who had been
complaining of abdominal pains of a sub-acute nature. Symptoms had been rather vague, and Sara had been unable to make a firm diagnosis, so she thought she had better see him again in case he developed appendicitis or intestinal obstruction. But there was barely any change in him. There was little tenderness or rigidity, no sickness, none of the usual history or symptoms of food poisoning. She left instructions that if he became worse in the night, she was to be sent for, and in the meantime put him on a fluid diet.
In any case, I'll get Dr Henderson to come and see him in the morning,' she promised.
She was headed for home when she thought of Mrs Warby, and as she had to pass her house, she suddenly decided to call in and see her. She lived in a semidetached thatched cottage. One of the pair was almost in darkness—Sara guessed there was a paraffin table lamp and dark curtains at the windows—but the other, where Mrs Warby lived, was brightly lighted, obviously with electric light, and there was also an electric lantern over the front porch. Sara knocked at the door and waited. There was no bell. There was a light downstairs, but none up, and Sara assumed that Mrs Warby was up and about
. She knocked again, more loudly and this time a dog began to bark. Then the door opened and Sara saw a woman of about forty, her hair rather untidy, and wearing an old, shapeless cardigan and a dreary-looking blouse over a crumpled grey flannel skirt. But Sara imagined she would be quite an attractive woman with her hair done, a little make-up on her face, and a nice dress.
One hand on the collar of her dog, Mrs Warby glanced up at Sara.
Yes ? '
Sara smiled. e Good evening. Mrs Warby ? ' Yes, I'm Mrs Warby.'
I'm Dr Martindale. May I come in. ? '
A frown knit the other's brow. ' Dr Martindale ? ' she repeated. But I rang up Dr Henderson.'
I know. I'm his new assistant.'
' Oh ? I didn't know he had one. Well, you'd better come in, then.'
' Thank you.'
Sara stepped inside the tiny hall and followed Mrs Warby into a surprisingly large and most attractive room. The ceiling was low with a beautiful oak beam across its length which must have been there for centuries. A log fire burned in the arched, brick fireplace, on the mantelshelf were a pair of brass candlesticks with red candles in them, but Sara noticed that both these and other brass and copper ornaments were somewhat in need of cleaning. The whole effect of the room, however, with its pale wall and red carpet, was very, very pleasing.
' What an awfully attractive room,' she exclaimed. Mrs Warby smiled faintly. That's what everyone says when they see it for the first time.'
Yes—one doesn't expect to find a room so bright, and yet cosy-looking.'
It wasn't when my husband and I first moved into it, I can tell you.'
' Oh, really ? What was it like ? '
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