‘At the moment there are artificial legs available that have bending knee joints – a prosthetic knee socket – but the knee needs to be locked in place when the patient stands upright and then released with the press of a switch in order to bend it when sitting down.’
Dr Parker took a quick sip of his pint. He was sitting with Helen at their table in the Railway Inn. ‘What’s being developed at the moment – and what I’m really keen to be a part of – is a limb that mimics real movement.’
‘And how would you be able to do that?’ Helen asked. She knew prosthetics was what John really wanted to specialise in when the war was over. It was her belief that, having been forced to amputate so many limbs, he was driven by a need to redress the balance.
‘That’s the interesting part.’ Dr Parker pushed back his hair; it had a tendency to flop forward, something Helen knew happened more frequently around the time he needed to go to the barbers. She’d have to remind him. ‘There’s been talk of a new “smart” knee that would only lock when the pressure from the heel of the artificial leg hits the ground. It would then bend when there was pressure on the toes, creating the feel of a natural walk.’
‘Gosh, that sounds very clever,’ Helen said. ‘Very pioneering.’
‘Well, it’s about time there was some kind of advancement,’ Dr Parker said, looking at Helen and silently reprimanding himself for feeling desire. Helen was a friend. That was all it was and ever would be. ‘Most of the artificial limbs we have in use at the moment are made of wood and leather. It’s prehistoric, really. They’re too heavy, and too hard to keep clean, especially as they absorb perspiration.’
They were quiet for a moment.
‘And talking about amputees, how’s young Jacob?’ Helen asked.
‘Oh, he’s getting a little better,’ Dr Parker said.
‘Just a little?’ Helen took another sip of her vodka and lemon. She had not had much to eat during the day and she could feel it going to her head. They were sitting next to each other, their shoulders almost touching. Helen had been fighting the urge to lean into him all evening. It was as though the vodka was making her resolution to keep John at arm’s length falter.
‘Well, what is really good is that he’s agreed to a transfer to the asylum, providing he stays under the care of Dr Eris.’
‘That’s good. Sounds like this Dr Eris has quite a way with patients.’
Dr Parker finished off his bitter and looked at the froth now languishing in the bottom of the glass. ‘One for the road?’
‘Why not?’ Helen said. She looked at the clock. They had another forty minutes before she had to catch her train.
A few minutes later Dr Parker was back, a vodka and lemon in one hand and a beer in the other.
‘And Polly’s keeping all right?’ he asked, putting their drinks down.
‘Yes, she’s really well,’ Helen said. ‘I saw her yesterday after she’d been to see Dr Billingham and he seems more than happy with how the pregnancy’s going.’
‘She must be what? About four – four and a half months gone now?’ Dr Parker said. He looked at Helen, tried to read her face. She would be thinking of when she’d been at that stage of her own pregnancy.
‘About that,’ she said.
‘And Tommy’s all right?’ he asked tentatively.
‘Yes, he’s writing lots, which is keeping Polly’s anxieties at bay. Not that she would admit to having any,’ Helen said.
‘And how’s everyone else at work?
‘They’re the same as always.’ Helen smiled. ‘Harold’s spending his day shuffling paper, I’m doing his work for him, wishing he would shuffle off into an early retirement.’
Dr Parker laughed.
‘And the women?’
‘They’re working flat out,’ Helen said. ‘Rosie’s not got a replacement for Polly yet, but she seems happy to carry on the way they are for the moment. I don’t think she wants Polly to feel like she’s being pushed out if they get another woman welder. Plus, it means Rosie’ll have to train the new girl up if we get one.’
They chatted on for a while longer.
‘Dear me!’ Dr Parker said during a lull in the conversation. ‘I can’t believe we’ve got through a whole evening without mentioning your Miss Marple.’
‘No, neither can I,’ Helen said. ‘That’s probably because there’s not been much happening. Georgina’s had to put the investigation on hold for a short while. Her father’s not been too well.’ Knowing that the next question off John’s lips would be about the old man’s medical ailment, she beat him to it. ‘Arthritis by the sounds of it.’
She took a sip of her vodka.
‘But we’re due to meet up later on in the week for an update.’
‘I will be intrigued to hear what – if anything – she has unearthed,’ Dr Parker said.