Stone called a taxi to keep the appointment at his doctor’s surgery. Before he left, in the hallway cloakroom, he looked at his face in a mirror. He tried to wash the tiredness from his eyes, tiredness from the sleepless nights in the past week. But it did not work. He saw the tiredness and he felt the tiredness.
His doctor, an Irishman called Sean, saw him promptly. He listened to Stone’s symptoms closely.
‘On the couch please, Harry. I need to do a physical examination. It’s internal, I’m afraid.’
There was silence for several minutes as Stone removed his lower clothing and slipped onto the couch. It was a quick examination and, in silence again, Stone redressed slowly and sat next to the small table that was Dr Sean’s desk. That part of the consultation was just five minutes.
‘Anything to tell me?’ Stone asked.
‘Not yet. We need some blood. Roll up your sleeve, Harry.’
Again there was silence as a routine sample of Stone’s blood was taken from his left arm. For a moment Stone looked the other way before he rolled his sleeve back down.
‘Right, before you go, I’ll check blood pressure and give you a prescription for stronger painkillers. They should help with your back pain.’
There was again silence for another minute and Stone closed his eyes.
‘Blood pressure’s running high. I’ve known you a few years, Harry, but today you look tired. So, what are you up to that’s pushing your blood pressure up? Some more tight deals?’ Sean laughed as he said it; he knew he would not get a straight answer.
‘A big property deal, and a bit here and a bit there. And some people are just impossible to deal with.’
‘Okay but, Harry, slow it down is my advice. The blood results will be available in three days. But in the meantime, I’m going to make an appointment for you at a London clinic in Harley Street. I think you should see a urologist. It’ll be at least a week, but I’ll give you a call.’
Stone was uncertain that he wanted to see another doctor in Harley Street. He wanted to know more but he never asked a question when he would not like the answer. He was sure that his doctor already knew what the result would be. It left Stone with a dry mouth, certain that his blood pressure was rising even higher.
Stone stood to leave, and Sean looked with interest at the grey bruising on Stone’s temple. He noted too the ashen colour on his patient’s face.
‘Where did you get that from?’
‘I had a small accident in the kitchen. Tripped over a chair.’
His doctor laughed at Stone. It was obvious that even his patient did not believe a simple explanation like that was likely. They parted with a handshake and Stone collected the prescription at a nearby pharmacy. With the sun on his face, he walked the mile and a half along the seafront to Marine House. As he climbed the three steps to the front door, the pain in his back was stronger and he could feel it round to his right hip. He sat in the kitchen and took two painkillers and within half an hour he was feeling drowsy. He slumped into a deep sofa in the sitting room with a glass of whisky and, gradually, the pain subsided.
As his day in pain finished, he was still uncertain if he would want to hear what the result would be if he followed his doctor’s advice and went to Harley Street. He tried to push the uncertainty away, he did not want it to interrupt closing the gap in the money he needed to get Marine House. But his world was soon to change. In ways that he could never have planned.