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I awoke to the sound of someone chopping wood, or, at least, that was what I took it to be. A regular thumping and clefting as timber was split apart, coming from somewhere nearby but outside the part of the house I was quartered in. There was something deeply reassuring about it, in much the same way as listening to a ticking clock.
Feeling entirely refreshed and my headache almost completely gone, I sat up in bed and looked about me. There was a moment’s relief as I found I was still in the bedroom I recollected from my last period of consciousness. After the morning’s events, I would not have been altogether surprised to have awoken somewhere else entirely, once more with not the slightest idea how and when I had arrived there. Of one other thing I was also certain; I was famished.
As I pulled back the bed sheets and began to steady myself for an attempt at standing up, the bedroom door opened and I found myself once more facing Dr Sneijder. He stepped into the room and eyed me with interest, his hands in his pockets. He was, no doubt, sizing up his patient.
“And how do we feel now, Mr Templeman? A little better, I hope.”
“Remarkably so, thank you, Doctor. The headache has almost entirely gone. The aches and pains also seem to have subsided. I owe you a debt, Doctor. You have obviously done a tremendous job.”
“Ah, please, Mr Templeman, it was a straightforward diagnosis and the course of treatment clear to even the most junior of medical practitioners. I must admit, however, that I did help things along the way by giving you a sleeping draught a little earlier. There is always a temptation for patients suffering a concussion to believe they are recovered long before it is so and, as I mentioned earlier, that can lead to complications. I hope you will forgive me.”
Sneijder sounded a little uncertain, there being some hesitation in his words. But he need not have worried on my account.
“Doctor, you will get no complaints from me. I’m aware I was in rather a bad way when your man found me and I’m only too grateful for your assistance and expertise. I thank my lucky stars that I should have been so fortunate as to stumble upon the home of a member of the medical profession.”
My assurances seemed to do the trick and the awkwardness lifted from his shoulders at once.
“Well, that’s very good to hear. Now then, you will, I suspect, be in need of a little food and perhaps a cup of that tea you English so enjoy. I must say, I am partial to it myself these days.”
I could hardly have been happier when Sneijder mentioned food and drink. There was no need for him to present me with a vast array of the very best dishes; as far as I was concerned, anything edible would do very nicely indeed.
“I feel as if I could very well eat you out of house and home, Doctor. I’m not a fussy eater. Anything you have to hand will do.”
“Excellent. I will have a bowl of water, soap and some towels brought up to the room for you, so you can wash. Your clothes have been unpacked.” He gestured towards the small walnut wardrobe up against the far wall. “If you would then like to join me downstairs, you can address your hunger and thirst and I can provide a report on what Selkman found on his searches.”
Of course, the cart and the farm labourer. I wanted to know the news at once, but it seemed inappropriate to pursue the matter aggressively, so I held back and agreed to join the Doctor as soon as I was washed and dressed, which I then attended to with some haste.
*
SELKMAN WAS WAITING for me in the hallway and, silent as ever, the brooding giant of a man led me down a set of wide, balustraded oak stairs, along a brightly-lit hall and into the sitting room, where my host was awaiting me, seated on a plain, high-backed chair that reminded me of one I used to climb over and under in my paternal grandparents’ house as a small boy.
The room was large enough to accommodate comfortably perhaps a dozen people and was plainly decorated. It could be said to have lacked a feminine touch and struck me as being very functional. There was but one picture hanging on the walls, a large map of Europe, recently drawn I would say, and the volumes on a tall, narrow bookcase by the door were on practical subjects such as botany, archaeology and politics.
“Thank you, Selkman. You may leave us.” The Doctor stood up and made his way to a small table adjacent to a window that looked out to the rear gardens. A tea service was set out for two. “How do you take your tea, Mr Templeman?”
“With just a little milk, thank you Doctor. It’s a very pleasant home you have here.”
“It provides us with all that we need. I imagine it would be a little too old fashioned for some people, but I find it inoffensive, myself.” He presented me with a cup of tea then collected the other for himself. “Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”
It was strange, but now that I was more or less recovered, I seemed to see Sneijder afresh, noticing things about him that I had not before. He looked a little older than I initially thought, most likely beyond the age of fifty, as attested to by the prevalence of grey in his hair and moustache. His accent was more pronounced and, despite his excellent English, his words were not quite shaped correctly. But I could not very well complain about that since, aside from some very poor French, I spoke not a word of any foreign language. I also observed that his deportment was very correct, somewhat akin to that of a military man, which I put down to an undoubtedly strict schooling on the matter; I had a little experience of that myself.
Most of all, however, I was struck by the force of character that looked out at me through his penetrating brown eyes. It spoke of a man who was very certain of himself, as I supposed a good Doctor ought to be, and someone who, I thought likely, would not bear a fool at all lightly. It made me wonder quite what he really thought about me.
“Now then,” proceeded Sneijder. “You will no doubt be wanting to hear what Selkman discovered on his search of the surrounding roads.”
“I hope I was wrong in my judgement of the labourer’s condition,” I offered, thinking it might, in any case, have been too long a time since the accident occurred for someone with serious injuries to have survived in such harsh conditions.
“I am afraid we will not be able to confirm it either way, Mr Templeman.”
I hesitated a moment, before replaying. “I’m not sure I understand you, Doctor.”
“Unfortunately, Selkman was not able to locate the labourer or his horse and cart. He searched for some time, but, aside from the difficulty of the fog, the roads and trackways in these parts can be a considerable challenge to one’s sense of direction. I wonder if perhaps you wandered, lost in the fog, for longer than you realised, Mr Templeman. If that were so, the scene of the accident could be a number of miles from here.”
I was somewhat taken aback. I hadn’t considered the possibility that I had been wandering, all but blind, in the fog for mile after mile. But, now the Doctor put the suggestion to me, it seemed entirely possible, especially as I had been suffering badly with a concussion and had little previous experience of the roads on which I had been travelling.
“I hadn’t considered the possibility, Doctor, but, of course, I have no real idea how long I was lost or how far I travelled. I can’t even say when it was that I collapsed on your driveway. I feel a little bad now about putting Selkman to such pains for what turned out to be no real purpose.”
“No, no, Mr Templeman. It was quite the right thing to do. You should not reproach yourself. It is only unfortunate that Selkman was not able to locate the scene of the accident. But we should not despair. It is possible that some other traveller came upon the scene and called for assistance.”
“I suppose you’re right, Doctor. I know I am no medical man, but I am pretty certain the labourer had no pulse and there is no help to be given to a dead man, other than to arrange a proper funeral.”
“Quite so. I hope you don’t think me rude in asking, Mr Templeman, but where were you travelling to when the accident occurred? This is a somewhat isolated part of the country. Were you perhaps intent on enjoying a little walking and fishing?”
“I don’t consider it rude at all, Doctor. You have every right to know a little about this stranger you have so generously taken in and restored to health.”
I occupied the next several minutes explaining, no doubt in excessive detail, how I had arrived in a heap on the driveway to his house and where my intended destination was. The recounting of the tale helped to bring a little more order to my own mind of the events that had occurred since I left Pimlico only the day before.
“I am afraid to say that I am not familiar with your godparents’ house, Mr Templeman, which makes me think again that you have probably travelled a greater distance than you initially believed. We are thirty minutes, at least, from New Cumnock. I will, of course, be happy to arrange for Selkman to take you back to the village in our horse and carriage once this fog has lifted enough to make travel a safe prospect and you are most welcome to remain our guest until then.”
“Thank you, Doctor. That’s very good of you. Do you think it will be long until this nuisance of a fog begins to lift?”
“I’m afraid to say they can sometimes be very persistent indeed. A day or two is entirely normal and, on one occasion last year, the same fog remained in place for five days, though there was the occasional teasing break. We have become quite used to them. I believe it is always better to work with nature than against it.”
“Five days. That’s remarkable. Let’s hope it’s nothing of the sort on this occasion.”
“Indeed. Indeed.” The Doctor sipped a little of his tea. “You didn’t mention what work it is you do, Mr Templeman, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“I’m training with a firm of solicitors in London. McMaster and Quarryman. Aim to have my own practice one day. Mind you, there are so many blessed exams to be passed, I could still be taking them in a decade’s time.”
“A solicitor.” A smile appeared under that heavy moustache of his. “I shall try not to hold that against you.”
“You’ll be one of the few people not to. Seems we’re not altogether a wholly appreciated bunch of people, unlike members of the medical profession. Doctor, your accent, it’s been gnawing away at me, but try as I might, I just can’t place it. Northern European, I would hazard a guess?”
“Ah, my apologies, Mr Templeman. Yes, I am from Holland. The town of Emmen, near the German border, to be a little more precise. Sad to say that most people have me marked down for a German whenever they guess where I am from.”
“Ah, I’ve never yet paid a visit to Holland.”
“A beautiful country, though it does, of course, rather lack the sort of hills one finds around here.”
“That’s true enough. Do I take it you practice here now, in Scotland?”
“I do indeed. This house is both my home and my surgery. I have been here in Scotland for a little over a year, which seems rather surprising now I come to think of it.”
Since the Doctor seemed relaxed about discussing the matter, and as I was both curious and had little else to occupy me, I ventured to ask a few more questions. One presented itself to me almost immediately.
“You practice here? Surely you cannot have an awfully large number of patients in such a remote spot. Are your days terribly quiet?”
Sneijder laughed at the suggestion in a good-hearted manner before answering. “I am not in general practice, Mr Templeman. I would, indeed, have very little business if that were the case. Not enough, I suspect, to pay the rental on this property. No, I specialise in treating patients with severe mental imbalances. Those for whom other more conventional treatments have proven to be ineffective. I developed my theories and practices in Holland and had been, for some little while, keen to try them elsewhere. A wealthy man from these islands approached me with an offer of employment. His wife was suffering with emotional difficulties that had failed to respond to numerous other treatments and a mutual friend suggested he might like to make an enquiry to me. It proved a most interesting case and gave me a means of establishing myself here.”
“Ah, I see. And I suppose a quiet, out of the way spot like this is just the thing for a practice like yours?”
“Quite so. It is essential that my patients have as few distractions as possible and access to plenty of fresh air and outdoor activities such as walking. The Scottish Highlands seemed a little too remote, but this part of the country is ideal, while this house has sufficient bedrooms and other rooms to accommodate both my household and my patients.”
“Do you have patients here now? I don’t recall seeing anyone else apart from you and Selkman.”
“There are indeed, though you will understand I cannot share any particulars with you. It is rather likely that you will meet one or two, but I will leave it up to them to decide whether or not they wish to share their names.”
“Of course, I entirely understand. Your patients’ privacy must be respected.”
“Apart from myself and Selkman there is also a housekeeper, Mrs Rafferty. You will meet her shortly as she is preparing a meal for you as we speak.”
“Well, I don’t want to get in your way, Doctor. If it helps, I would be entirely amenable with the suggestion I remain in my room for the greater part of my time here, while we wait for this fog to lift. I certainly wouldn’t want to cause your patients any inconvenience. I can imagine it might come as an unwelcome surprise to some of them to find me here.”
“That will not be necessary, Mr Templeman. Patients are free to come and go as they please when they are not undergoing treatment, so it is entirely up to each of them to decide whether or not they wish to meet you. I will, of course, ensure they know of your presence here.”
There came a shuffling sound from behind me, one that caught the Doctor’s attention.
“Ah, Mrs Rafferty, there you are with Mr Templeman’s luncheon. I hope it is agreeable to you, Mr Templeman. Some cheese and bread, with a few fruits. It is not long until dinner, so we did not want to push a large meal on to you now.”
“It will do very nicely indeed, thank you. I feel now as if I could eat several meals, one straight after the other, I’m so hungry.”
The housekeeper made space for the plate and cutlery on the small table where the tea service was already positioned. She was a surly-looking woman. I had no wish to be uncharitable, but I had the immediate impression that I would not care to cross swords with her. Though not tall, she was distinctly stocky, with hands that were heavily worn, no doubt by years of labour. I considered that she was most likely in her late forties or perhaps early fifties. Her hair was a mass of unkempt mousey-brown, which she kept in some sort of order by enclosing it in a floral headscarf that had seen better days. I got the impression, from the way the woman looked at me, that she considered me an unwelcome, albeit temporary, addition to the household. It occurred to me that my arrival might have undermined her, no doubt carefully made, plans for the provisioning of the house.
“Well, I must press on with my work,” said Sneijder, getting to his feet. “I have an appointment with one of my patients shortly and there is much to be done in preparation. Please feel free to avail yourself of our, admittedly rather limited, facilities, Mr Templeman. There are some books there in the bookcase and there will be a newspaper somewhere here. Dinner will be at six-thirty and, if you would like to join us here, I will introduce you to any of the patients who feel up to meeting you.”
“I look forward to it and I really can’t thank you enough, Doctor. You’ve been a most hospitable host.”
As the Doctor and his housekeeper left the room together, I turned to my meal and tucked in with relish. Breakfast seemed by then to have been such a very long time ago.
