‘So, John, please tell me what’s been happening in your world. In the real world.’ Dr Eris sighed theatrically and took a sip of her wine. ‘I do love my work, but living and working in the same place does not bode well for a healthy mind. I worry I’ll become institutionalised.’
‘I can’t see that ever happening.’ Dr Parker smiled and took a quick sup of his beer. ‘Although it has to be said, the asylum really is more like a hamlet than a hospital.’
‘Ooh, I like that description – a hamlet.’ She looked at the man she was now officially courting. His mop of blond hair, sparkling brown eyes – that smile. He really was rather perfect – in all ways. ‘You did the sensible thing and took lodgings in the village.’
‘Perhaps,’ Dr Parker said. ‘Not that I’m there much. And not that I had much option. The Ryhope’s barely got enough room to accommodate the patients, never mind the staff as well.’
‘Perhaps I should also take a room somewhere in the village.’ Dr Eris turned as the barmaid brought them their meal.
‘It mightn’t be a bad idea,’ Dr Parker said, smiling his thanks to the young girl, who didn’t look old enough to be working in a pub. ‘I can ask my landlady if she knows of anywhere suitable?’
‘Thanks, John, that’d be nice,’ Dr Eris said, although she had no intention of moving anywhere – not unless it was into her new marital home with her new husband.
‘So, come on, give me a résumé of what’s been happening,’ Dr Eris asked, a twinkle in her eye. She congratulated herself on seeing John most days – even if it was just snatching a quick cuppa in the canteen. ‘A lot can happen in a couple of days.’ Just as a lot can happen in a couple of months.
She listened intently as Dr Parker told her about a particularly complex operation he’d had to perform, forcing herself to look ever so slightly tearful when he told her about the difficult conversation he’d had to have with the young man who had just had both legs amputated, as well as the talk he’d had with the poor man’s fiancée, who, judging by her reaction, wouldn’t be his fiancée for much longer.
‘How awful,’ Dr Eris said, apparently with the utmost sincerity, though what she was really thinking was sensible woman. ‘Whatever happened to true love – for better, for worse, in sickness and in health?’
They chatted on, mainly about work, but by the time their puddings arrived, Dr Eris had managed to find out more about John’s background and, in particular, his family. Reading between the lines, his mother was a total cow. Claire knew the type. Rich, middle class, well educated, but had never worked in her life. Did well for herself by marrying John’s father, also a surgeon, who, unlike his wife, didn’t seem to care too much for money or status and spent as little time at home as possible. He would be a breeze to charm; the mother, however, would be more of a challenge. If everything went to plan, ‘meeting the parents’ would happen soon. She had already briefed her mother and father that they would be coming up to visit, possibly next month. They, of course, would love John. Who wouldn’t? He was every woman’s dream husband – as well as every parent’s ideal son-in-law.
The path to married life wasn’t totally obstacle-free, though. Helen was still a potential fly in the ointment. Claire had decided the best way forward was to purposely avoid any mention of Helen, but if John brought her up in conversation, she had primed herself to appear interested. She had managed to do so – heaven knew how – when he had told her of the evening he’d spent with Helen back in May. Inwardly, she had screamed, although she’d been pretty sure John had no idea how incensed she’d felt, and she’d done a good job of feigning great excitement at hearing how Helen had bought herself a ‘smashing green sports car’, in which she had taken John for a spin up the coast.
John hadn’t mentioned Helen of late, which she took to be a good sign. She hoped that any trace of the shipyard sex siren would soon be scrubbed out of his life, helped along by the arrangement she’d made with Denise that whenever Helen rang, she would tell Claire – not John.
In return, Claire was to set Denise up with one of the eligible young doctors she knew both here and in town. Denise wasn’t a bad-looking woman, but she was going to have to get a move on if she didn’t want to be left on the shelf. It was something Claire related to. Not that she would ever admit it.
‘You haven’t mentioned your star patient this evening,’ Dr Parker asked as he paid the bill and they both got up to leave.
‘I know – doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun,’ Claire said, giving John a slightly mischievous look. The last time he had come back to her accommodation they had lost track of time and John had been forced to sneak out, for fear of being seen.
‘I’ve forgotten her name,’ Dr Parker said.
‘Miss Girling,’ Dr Eris said, touching Dr Parker gently as he held the door open for her.
‘That’s it, Miss Girling,’ Dr Parker said, following Claire out into the dark night. ‘I don’t know why I never seem to remember her name.’
‘She’s getting along very well,’ Dr Eris said. ‘Since her medication’s been reduced, she’s definitely becoming more lucid. And according to Nurse Pattinson, she’s sleeping less. But it’s a fine balance, and I’ve got to be careful that she doesn’t become hyperactive.’
They walked in comfortable silence for a while.
‘Do you still think she’s been wrongly diagnosed?’ Dr Parker asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ she mused. She slid her arm around John’s waist, and he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. ‘Even if she has been wrongly diagnosed, I wonder whether there’s much hope for the poor woman. I can’t see her ever leaving the asylum permanently. She’s been here too long. Now, there’s someone who is institutionalised.’
As they walked the remaining distance back to the asylum, the talk turned to the latest war news – the invasion of Sicily, described as ‘the stepping stone to Hitler’s back door’, and the bombing of Rome, as well as the start of the German withdrawal from Kursk in western Russia.
‘Let’s not end the evening with talk of war,’ Dr Eris said when they reached her front door. She reached up to kiss him. ‘Why don’t you come in?’ She kissed him again, this time more passionately. ‘We can talk of frivolous things.’
Dr Parker pulled her to him, feeling himself respond to the closeness of her body.
‘In fact,’ she said, ‘we don’t have to talk at all.’
Dr Parker kissed her; he could feel the heat between them.
‘I don’t know if that would be such a good idea,’ he said, pulling back and gently putting his hand to her face and caressing her cheek.
He could see the hurt.
‘Not because I don’t want to,’ he said. ‘I just think it mightn’t be wise.’
Dr Eris kissed him once more.
‘I think you might be right,’ she lied.
Closing her front door, Dr Eris cursed herself. She’d been too pushy. And if there was one thing guaranteed to cool a man’s ardour, it was appearing too keen – too available.
She was going to have to take her foot off the pedal and slow down.
She needed to make sure she got this right.
If she was to make John her husband, she had to play it right and ensure that nothing she did would rock the boat. She wanted to sail down the aisle as effortlessly as possible – and not get shipwrecked just before she reached the altar. Like before.
She had learnt her lesson the hard way – and she was damned if she was going to make the same mistake twice.
Dr Parker stepped out into the cool night and was glad of the half-mile walk back to his digs. Why had he said that? It mightn’t be wise?
He had hoped the inference was that he would find it hard to rein in his feelings – to hold back from making love. Which it probably would have been. But what had really stopped him was that he knew as soon as he stepped over that particular threshold, there would be no going back.
In his books, making love to a woman was akin to asking her to marry him.
Some might call him old-fashioned, but that was just the way he was.
Coming out of the asylum’s main entrance, Dr Parker got out his torch. It was pitch-black. He started down the long pathway.
If it had been Helen standing in the doorway, inviting him in, would he have acted the same way? Of course he wouldn’t have. There wouldn’t have been a second’s hesitation.
Dr Parker looked up to the heavens and sighed, exasperated with himself.
For God’s sake, man! Please don’t go down this road again.
Helen doesn’t want you to carry her over the ruddy threshold!
Whereas Claire does.
And you like Claire – you find her interesting, funny, desirable.
So, what’s the problem?
Hearing a vehicle approaching, he moved over to the side of the road. Why couldn’t he just leave his love for Helen behind – chuck it under this oncoming car? Was he not letting go because deep down he believed there was a crumb of hope that Helen might see him as more than just a friend?
He let out another heavy sigh of pure exasperation. He was truly delusional.