‘Sorry to bother you, Claire.’ Dr Parker stood on the doorstep of Dr Eris’s little cottage in the West Wing of the town’s notorious lunatic asylum. It was almost two in the afternoon, although most people’s body clocks had been thrown out of sync by a particularly heavy air raid during the early hours of the morning.
‘You’re not bothering me at all, John, not at all. Come in. Come in.’ Dr Eris opened the door wide. ‘It seems like it was just two minutes ago that we were saying goodnight to each other.’ The pair had been out for a drink the previous evening, which had ended with John walking Claire back to her hospital accommodation and saying a chaste farewell.
‘It does indeed.’ Dr Parker followed Dr Eris down the hallway. ‘Although the intervening time has been somewhat eventful.’
‘Very true. They’re saying it’s been the worst bombing we’ve had to date.’ Dr Eris led the way into the kitchen. ‘Sit yourself down. Let me make a quick cup of tea. It can be in place of the one you turned down last night.’
Dr Parker felt himself redden. ‘I hope you weren’t offended. I didn’t want the hospital grapevine to go into meltdown. I think the very fact we simply went out for a drink together will have sent the gossipmongers into a feeding frenzy.’
Dr Eris chuckled as she put the kettle on and placed two cups and saucers and a little jug of milk on the small kitchen table. ‘That’s the downside of working in a hospital that’s in the middle of nowhere – the entertainment tends to be generated in-house. You can’t sneeze here without just about every member of staff, and probably all the patients too, knowing about it.’
Dr Eris poured boiling water into the teapot and gave it a feisty stir. She had actually been the one to get the gossip going by casually dropping into conversations with her colleagues that she and the eligible Dr Parker were going out for a drink and it was most definitely not for the purpose of talking shop. She’d also made a point of informing Denise and Genevieve, the receptionists at the Ryhope and the asylum, where she was going, and with whom – just in case there was an emergency, of course.
‘So, tell me, to what do I owe this pleasure?’ Dr Eris put the pot on the table and sat down.
‘I’m afraid I need to pick your brains about a patient who came in last night,’ Dr Parker said.
Dr Eris tried to hide her disappointment; she’d hoped the visit was a social one.
‘Tell me more,’ she said.
‘One old chap suffered a nasty bash on his head – fell over on his way to the shelter. He’s quite elderly and a bit unsteady on his feet. He’s been patched up, but he still seems very confused and I’m wondering whether his memory loss and lack of clarity are due to a possible concussion – or if it’s dementia.
Dr Eris poured their tea and added milk.
‘I can certainly take a look at him and give you my opinion,’ she said, a smile playing on her lips.
Dr Parker narrowed his eyes. ‘What is it you’re not saying?’
Dr Eris crossed her legs and leant forward a little, her teacup in her hands. ‘I was just thinking that much as I’m sure you value my thoughts on the matter, it might be more enlightening if you got the office to track down his next of kin and find out if he seemed confused before the bombs dropped.’
‘Dear me –’ Dr Parker combed his hair back with his fingers ‘– I think it might be me with dementia. In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, I’m sure one of the nurses took a call from his son saying he’d be visiting later. I’ll speak to him then. You must think I’m thick.’
‘I think you’re anything but, John. But I do think you’ve been working round the clock lately. You need a decent night’s shut-eye. The effects of sleep deprivation, especially over the long term, can mirror those of dementia, you know?’
Dr Parker let out a bark of laughter. ‘Thanks for the reassurance.’ He took a sip of his tea. ‘So, tell me, how was last night for you?’
‘At the pub or during the air raid?’ Dr Eris asked, deadpan.
Dr Parker laughed out loud again. ‘I meant the air raid, but I have to say that I personally had a thoroughly enjoyable evening at the Albion.’
Dr Eris smiled. ‘Me too.’
As they drank their tea, they both exchanged stories about the aftermath of the bombing. Dr Eris’s time had been spent checking and medicating those inmates who had become distressed by the disruption, while until the early hours Dr Parker had been in the Isolation Hospital in the West Wing, which had been converted into a makeshift ward for the injured. All the staff had done their bit, and most had gone to bed when they’d normally be getting up.
Having finished his tea, Dr Parker pushed back his chair and stood up.
‘Well, I’d best be getting off.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Rounds to do.’ He looked at Dr Eris. ‘And thank you for the belated tea.’
‘You’re more than welcome,’ Dr Eris said, standing up and putting the teacups in the sink. ‘And I’ll pop in to see your confused elderly gentleman. You’ve got me curious.’
‘Thank you,’ Dr Parker said. As he made to go, he suddenly felt a little awkward. It would have been the ideal opportunity to ask Claire out on another date. So why was he hesitating?
‘Let me see you out,’ Claire said, turning and walking down the hallway.
As she opened the front door, she had to stop herself from slamming it shut again. Helen was walking down the pathway to the Isolation Hospital. Worse still, she’d spotted her and was raising her arm to wave hello.
Dr Eris turned around to face Dr Parker.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘it wasn’t just the tea you passed up on last night.’
Dr Parker furrowed his brow in a question as Dr Eris stepped forward, put her arms around his neck and gently pulled him towards her.