Chapter 3

Over the coming weeks and months Andrew would often reflect on his first day back at Prince Charles. It amused him to remember that he had complained about having nothing to do, for in no time he had more to do than he could handle. The honeymoon in the new job did not last long and he soon found himself working as hard as a consultant as he had ever done as a registrar or resident. And he loved every moment of it. If he had any regrets, it was that he saw little of Dr Harris who was paying the price of his prominence and success. Dr Harris no longer had the time to attend to the clinical duties of his position as head of unit but rather was forced to spend most of his working hours in endless meetings, seminars and group discussions with various administrators and bureaucrats. There were budgets and forward projections and planning strategies and it fell to the Head of Unit to see that his department was not short-changed out of it all.

As a result, Andrew found himself working more and more closely with Dr Harris’ deputy, Dr George Edwards who had been at Prince Charles almost as long as the recently retired Dr Brian Love. Dr Edwards had been Deputy to Dr Harris’ predecessor, Dr Blake Carey and it had caused more than an eyebrow or two to be raised, when on Dr Carey’s retirement, Dr Edwards was passed over for the young rising star of neurology, Dr Jeffrey Harris. Andrew had great respect for George Edwards from whom he felt he had learnt a great deal. Dr Edwards was a softly spoken but highly articulate man. His knowledge was encyclopaedic and Andrew had learnt the value of his clinical acumen. On a personal level, Andrew had always felt that he did not know Dr Edwards very well. He was not a man prone to social interaction with colleagues or subordinates and unlike Dr Harris, had not once invited Andrew to his home or entertained him in any way. Andrew only had the vaguest notion that Dr Edwards was married and presumed he had children but knew nothing at all of his family life.

If George Edwards bore a grudge against Dr Harris, it never showed, at least not in Andrew’s presence. He went about his work in the same meticulous and dedicated manner after Dr Harris’ appointment as he had done before. Andrew always suspected that Dr Edwards must have resented Dr Harris deeply and wondered what Dr Edwards felt about him. Andrew was after all Dr Harris’ boy, and he hoped, one day, his successor. But in their new relationship as colleagues, George Edwards behaved as he had always behaved, courteously and properly. In fact, he provided invaluable assistance to Andrew during those early days. He helped him settle back into the department, guiding him through all the changes that had taken place in his absence. Andrew was not at all sure whether he would have coped without Dr Edwards’ help and for that he was extremely grateful.

With Dr Harris so busy with non-clinical duties, the load fell on the other consultants. Dr Edwards having had to shoulder most of it in the six months since Dr Love had left. He was all too happy to hand some of the workload over to newly trained and eager Dr Andrew Marshall.

Andrew’s week was filled to overflowing. There were three ward rounds per week, each lasting at least three hours, after which Andrew’s back would ache and his legs would feel numb. There were two outpatient clinics, one a general clinic and one a special tumour clinic which Andrew was given to understand would be primarily his responsibility. On top of that was under-graduate and post-graduate teaching, an attempt at some involvement in research, leaving Andrew two half days to conduct private practice which, must to his surprise, began quickly to flourish. While he enjoyed the hospital work more, he was astute enough to realise that private practice would help pay the bills and these were beginning to mount up from day one. In a space of three weeks, Andrew had rented a flat, furnished it and bought a car, all on the bank’s money, money which the bank was eagerly awaiting to be repaid. His income was adequate, more than adequate as he had only himself to support, but there never seemed to be quite enough for everything. He was soon caught up on the treadmill of borrowed money, interest payments and having to continue to generate income to service his various commitments. But he was happy. He was doing what he had always wanted to do and he knew that he was good at his job.

At a personal level, things were not going quite as well. It took Andrew the one contact with Lisa Wallace to realise that he was still in love with her, a realisation which filled him with despair as he knew what she must think of him. He saw her regularly; she attended every ward round and the weekly ward meetings and their relationship remained cordial and professional. Andrew could feel a distinct coolness from Lisa and he kept himself somewhat aloof and reserved, not wanting to show his feelings which were increasing in intensity with each passing day.

He could have had other women but chose not to. Andrew never had difficulty in attracting members of the opposite sex and he could see from the glances given him by some of the nurses and para-medical staff that the attraction was still there. He was too busy for a new relationship and what little time he had to think about his private life was spent on Lisa Wallace. She had made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing to do with him on a personal level and Andrew had no intention of venturing where he was not wanted, no matter how strong his urge to do so was.

Then one Thursday evening, after a ward round which lasted until almost seven pm, Lisa approached Andrew as he was about to leave the ward and said ‘Dr Marshall, would you mind giving me a lift home. My car is being serviced and I don’t have the energy for the tram. Your ward round wore me out.’

Andrew was momentarily stunned but managed a quick reply, trying to conceal his eagerness.

‘I would be delighted Sister Wallace. My car is just outside in the car park. If you are ready, we could leave now.’

They drove for fifteen minutes to Lisa’s Carlton flat in silence. Following her directions, Andrew pulled up at a small, modern block of six flats hidden away in a tree lined side street. He expected Lisa to leave and was surprised for the second time in less than an hour to hear her say, ‘Would you like to come in Andrew? My flatmate’s away and I don’t feel like eating alone. I’ve got a casserole ready to warm up. If you’d like to, that is. I will understand if you are busy.’

‘No. I’d love to Lisa.’

She unlocked the front door taking several minutes to unbolt the deadlock and Andrew followed her inside. The flat was typically Lisa. Neat and in good taste. Andrew had always admired her taste. She had a flair for decorating which she had used to good effect in the flat they had once shared.

‘Help yourself to a drink. There’s not much there but you should be able to find some Dimple. Pour me one too. No ice.’

Andrew headed in the direction of Lisa’s gaze and found the cupboard which served as a bar. There was a half full bottle of Bacardi, three bottles of gin, each with only an inch in the bottom and a full bottle of as yet unopened Dimple Haig Scotch whisky, his favourite. Andrew wondered whether she had bought the bottle in anticipation of inviting him but realised there was little point in dwelling on it. He could hear Lisa clattering in the kitchen and poured two generous measures of scotch, set the glasses down on the coffee table and sat down on the settee and waited. Lisa was taking longer than he expected so Andrew downed one of the scotches and, feeling a little foolish at not having waited for her, poured himself a second glass, just in time to see her emerge from the kitchen, wiping her hands on the apron she was now wearing.

‘Cheers,’ said Andrew.

‘Cheers,’ was her reply.

He had downed the second scotch as quickly as the first and in doing so he recalled that had somehow missed lunch that day and had the vague thought that he should not be drinking on an empty stomach. Andrew could hold his liquor but it did two things to him. It made him hungry and aroused him sexually. The casserole was not yet ready but something told him that Lisa was and without a word he grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. She did not pull back but kissed him back, opening her mouth slightly and letting her tongue dance across his teeth. It may have been the Dimple, but Andrew found himself attacking Lisa with the eagerness of a schoolboy on his first date. Without moving from the couch, he undressed her, began to undress himself with Lisa’s eager hands helping. In no time they were naked and Andrew was vaguely aware of the coldness of the flat. Lisa had forgotten to put the heating on. Their mouths never left each other and with a smooth motion, he was on top of her. The couch was short, being a two seater and Lisa’s legs were high above him stretched out in the air in front of him like a pair of rabbits’ ears TV antennae. He could feel the moistness between her legs as he entered her. Lisa’s legs now came down and circled his back and pinned him to her, her pelvis swaying up and down keeping with his rhythm. His desire was almost unbearable. They continued moving in a slow but ever-increasing rhythm for what seemed like an eternity. As he felt himself bursting inside her, Andrew heard her sigh and her legs went limp, sprawling themselves awkwardly over the side of the couch. Andrew was conscious of their warm sweat and then lapsed into sleep. He awoke minutes later as Lisa stirred under him. The look on her face told him everything he wanted to know. He also became aware of a burning smell. The casserole. He got up as gently as he could and made his way to the kitchen. The casserole was well and truly burnt. He switched off the gas and left the blackened pot to cool. He was no longer hungry. He felt content. Now he was really home.