Julie arrived home after a particularly intense day completing three skin grafts and a partial nose reconstruction. She collapsed into her favourite wingback chair with a Scotch and water in hand. Her eyelids became heavy and she felt herself starting to doze off when the telephone on the small round table next to her started to ring, startling her out of her comatose state.
‘Dr Doherty speaking.’
‘Hello Julie, it’s Harry. Dr Harry de Neville.’
‘Oh, hello Harry. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. And you?’
‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine.’ Julie wondered why Harry was calling her.
‘I hope you don’t mind me calling you at home but I have something rather important to ask you.’
‘Really, what is it?’
‘Well, I’m not very good at this sort of thing.’
‘Sorry? What sort of thing, Harry?’
‘Asking a beautiful young woman out to lunch.’
‘Is that why you called me? Interrupting my Scotch after a very busy day in surgery?
‘I’m afraid so. Sorry.’
‘I’d love to. Where are you taking me?’
‘Oh splendid! Well … I thought Claridges.’
‘Wonderful! When?’
‘When? Oh of course … When? Well, I thought this coming Sunday, if that’s convenient for you.’
‘Yes, Sunday would be fine. What time will you pick me up?’
Let’s say eleven? That should give us plenty of time to get into London, park etc.’
‘Lovely! See you on Sunday at eleven.’
‘Excellent! I am looking forward to it. Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye.’
Julie returned the handset to its cradle. She smiled to herself thinking how nice it would be having lunch at Claridges with Harry. She had often thought of him after the golf game – what a catch he would be! A handsome young plastic surgeon who came from a very well to do family.
She had five days to decide what she would wear, only five days.
At last Sunday arrived and Harry pulled up in his Rolls Royce Phantom. She had never seen such a magnificent motor vehicle.
The trip to Pall Mall London only took forty-five minutes. The time was taken up by idle chat about golf and the beauty of the countryside.
Harry pulled up outside the famous hotel and handed the keys to the white-gloved parking attendant. Parking such a prestigious car was second nature to the Claridges attendants. The doorman opened the door for the handsome young couple and they proceeded to ‘The Foyer Restaurant’.
Once seated, they spoke about this and that, nothing too heavy. It wasn’t until the main course, Filet Mignon, was served that Harry began the conversation that had really been on his mind.
‘Julie, I have as you know been working in the field of plastic surgery since the war ended and have decided that this is the field of medicine I wish to specialise in for the foreseeable future. I was wondering if you would introduce me to Dr Gillies on the basis that I become an intern as it were under his tutelage.’
‘I see, so that is the reason for this luncheon invitation. Not because you were attracted to me or found my conversation interesting. All you wanted was an introduction to my boss in the hope that knowing me might hold some sway.’
‘Now Julie, don’t get me wrong! I am attracted to you, very much. It’s just that seeing you already work under his wing … well, you know what I mean?’
‘No, I don’t know what you mean. Is it my feminine wiles or my intellect? Or where I work that attracts you to me?’
‘Julie!’
‘Don’t Julie me Harry! I would like you to take me home.’
‘But you haven’t eaten your lunch yet!’
‘I’ve lost my appetite. Please take me home!’
They left the restaurant. The drive home was in silence, completely different from the trip to London.
Harry pulled up outside her cottage. Julie got out and not looking back, opened the front door and disappeared.
Harry knew he had his work cut out.