A Man To Tame - Rachel Lindsay (Roberta Leigh) (9 page)

‘Everything’s fresh and of the best
quality,' she insisted, her manner as starchy as her white apron. 'Serving
breakfasts is a new innovation. We only began it last week, so even the cereal
packets are fresh.'

Well, something is contaminated,’
Kate asserted, 'and if we can't trace it we shall have to call in the Health
Inspector. This isn't a case of tummy upsets. It's an extremely virulent form
of food poisoning.'

The canteen supervisor blanched.
The only thing it could be are the sausages. They're
made especially for us and——'

‘You'd better go back to the
canteen and make sure no more are served. Then give me a couple to send off for
analysis and phone the butcher where you got them from and tell him what's
happened. I'll have to notify the Health Inspector and——-'

‘You said if we traced the source
you wouldn't have——-’

‘We haven’t traced ft yet and the
Inspector is the best person to get the sausages analysed
for us. If we suspect a local butcher we're obliged to notify the public health
department.'

'Oh dear,' the woman wailed. 'A
thing like this can cause awful publicity. Mr Howard
will be furious!'

'He'd be even more furious if some
of his workmen died,' Kate said grimly, and broke off as several more men
staggered in to be treated.

By early afternoon there were fifty
cases of food poisoning, three-quarters of them bad enough to be hospitalised. Having found herself with nothing to do for
the first few days here, Kate was now worked off her feet, her surgery full and
her telephone ringing without cessation. There seemed to be an ambulance
permanently plying between the factory and the hospital, and twice during the
day she went down herself to see that her patients were comfortable. Most of
them were already considerably better, and feeling sheepish at having made a
fuss for what they considered to be a kid's complaint, but she
quickly assured them there was nothing childish about food poisoning and told
them that unless it was treated promptly it could sometimes be fatal.

‘Fact is, I felt so ill, I forgot
you were a woman, one of the men said. 'I wouldn't have even been embarrassed
if you'd been a nun!'

It was a back-handed compliment,
but she took it in the spirit it was meant. 'Don't let the embarrassment return
now you're better,' she quipped, 'In my surgery I'm
neither a woman nor a nun. I'm a doctor.’

‘You are at that,' said the man,
'and a bl—' He choked back the word. 'And a very good one!'

She laughed and walked over to the
next bed. We'll have to call this the Howard Ward,' she said. We've practically
taken it over.'

The men within earshot laughed and
a couple of them struggled to sit up as she went over to talk to them. Even when
she had returned home she had little chance to rest, for several of the men who
had breakfasted in the canteen in the morning had not started to feel unwell
until the evening. It meant she had to go to their homes to attend them, but
since this also presented her with an opportunity of meeting their families,
she felt each visit to be worthwhile from a psychological viewpoint alone.
Luckily the evening cases were less unpleasant than the morning ones,-though
they kept her as fully occupied, and when she finally got to bed she was
feeling queasy herself; not from what she had eaten but from what she had not
eaten, for both she and Nurse Evans had existed throughout the day on endless
cups of tea and buns.

Tuesday she regarded as mopping up
day. She made two further visits to the hospital to check on the men who were
still there and saw all those who were confined to their beds at home.

On Wednesday there was a return to
normality and morning surgery passed with only one of the women secretaries
coming in to discuss family planning. But afternoon surgery brought an entirely
different response, and some half dozen men whom Kate had not met before came
to see her for various medical reasons. They were nearly all ill at ease and
she did her best to help them relax, knowing it was their attitude that would
have to change rather than her own. Illness was a great leveller—as
the attack of food poisoning had shown— but she did not want to wait for another
such attack before finding her resources fully stretched again. Of course
having fewer patients meant she could devote more time to them, and a couple of
the men seemed surprised at the questions she asked. From what she could gather
from them, Dr Morris was not the type of medical man with whom she would have
had much in common. He had practised abroad for most
of his life and had only returned to England when his position in Africa had
been taken over by
an
African doctor. He had still hankered for the
tropics and regarded Llanduff
as
second only
to the North-Pole when it came to comfort It was odd
that Joshua Howard had kept him, on. When a man went to the expense of
employing his own doctor, one assumed he would also have taken the trouble to
make sure that that doctor was the best he could procure, Kate made a mental
note to discuss it with Dermot; then immediately vetoed the idea. Dr Morris
would be returning here and it was unethical of her to criticise
him.

That evening it was five-thirty
before she left the factory. Nurse Evans usually came to work on a bike, but
she had a puncture, and Kate offered her a Iift4nto town
and took the opportunity of telling her she was having an evening surgery at
the house and on Saturday and Sunday morning too.

Nurse Evans looked disapproving.
'What about your own time off, Doctor?'

‘You can hardly call me
overworked,' Kate said.

‘Not now maybe, but it's picking up
all the time. You saw how it was today.'

'This is a leisurely practice
compared with the one I left.'

'It won't be if you start looking
after the men's families.'

Kate shrugged. 'I don't feel I'm
earning my salary.'

'If Mr Howard
doesn't worry why should you?'

'He might well start worrying if he
knows how little I'm being utilised!'

‘Wait another week before you say
that. I wouldn't like any more cases of food poisoning, yet you've got to admit
it has made the men see you as a doctor.'

'It certainly has.' Kate stopped
the car to let the nurse out.

'Will you be
wanting me to help you with your surgery at home?' the nurse asked, and
Kate hesitated, not sure about payment for this.

‘
Did
you help Dr Morris when he ran his surgery at home?'

'He only did it for a few months.
The women stopped coming to him and he closed it down.'

‘Why did they stop?' Kate asked.

They didn't like him. He was a good
doctor, but he had an off-hand manner. In my opinion Mr
.Howard would have got rid of him if he hadn't taken ill and gone abroad.'

‘But he's coming back, isn't he?'

'So he said, but whether or not Mr Howard will take him back is another question.' The
nurse leaned forward. 'I don't fancy working Saturday
and
Sunday, Dr
Gibson, but I am prepared to give you a hand part of the time.'

‘I’ll bear that in mind,' Kate
smiled. 'Let me start the surgery first and see how things go.'

During the rest of the week she
noticed with considerable satisfaction that more of the men were coming to see
her. None of them presented her with anything serious—merely routine colds and
sore throats and the occasional injury at work. If they had more intimate
illnesses to bother them they were obviously not bringing them to her, but it
was early days yet and she must control her impatience.

On Thursday evening as she let
herself into the house she received a call from Dermot.

'I got in an hour ago,’ he
announced. 'I hear you've been having fun and games in my absence.'

'Great fun,' she said wryly. ‘Who
told you?'

The Works Manager rang me on Monday
with the news. I wanted to come straight back, but Mr
Howard wouldn't let me.' Kate knew immediately why and resentment stirred in
her. Joshua Howard had probably wanted an emergency like this to occur, no
doubt hoping she would fail to cope with it. Well, she had shown him how wrong
he was.

'Any chance of
seeing you tonight?’ Dermot asked.

She hesitated. Hospitality urged
her to invite him to supper, but she could not summon the energy to prepare a
meal or even to talk with him, and she pleaded tiredness.

Then I'll see you at the factory
tomorrow,' he said, disappointment in his voice as he bade her goodnight.

Replacing the receiver Kate dropped
her coat on to a chair and went upstairs 'to bath and change. The water, piping
hot and scented with an unusually lavish handful of bath crystals, made her
feel better and in a soft velvet housecoat whose rose pink colour
lessened her pallor, she went to the kitchen to make herself something to eat.
She was hungry, yet she could not be bothered to cook and, thanking heaven for
chickens, she took some eggs from the refrigerator. She was beating them in a
bowl when the doorbell rang. The fork clattered into the yolks and she set the
bowl down and went into the hall.

‘Who is it?' she called.

'Joshua Howard.'

‘What—what do you want ?' As she asked the question she knew it was
ridiculous. Obviously he wanted to see her, otherwise
he would not be standing outside the door. She pulled back the bolt and let him
in. Cold air came in with him and he shook the rain off his hair, then ran his hand across the top of it. It was thick and
heavy and no grease confined it, so that it sprang back from his forehead with
a vitality that matched the one he exuded. He seemed taller and bigger standing
so close to her, and she moved back from him hastily. Looking over her shoulder
he saw the light in the kitchen and walked towards it, forcing her to do the
same.

'I hadn't realised
you would be eating so early,’ he apologised.

'It's seven-thirty and I've had a
long day.'

'I know. I gather you've worked
like a Trojan this week.'

‘Only Monday and
Tuesday. The rest of the time-has been
slack.'

‘Not according to Nurse Evans.'

‘Have you been checking up on me?’
she asked sharply.

'Should I?' he said, a gleam in his
eye. 'Actually I heard it from my housekeeper.'

Too late she remembered his
housekeeper was Nurse Evans's sister. 'I hear about you from the same route,’
she said irritably.

He grinned. 'Now that we both know
where we get our Information from, perhaps you'll relax and stop glowering at
me.'

‘I’m not glowering.'

‘Well, pick up your fork and beat
your eggs. I'm sure there's more temper in you that needs to be vented on
something!'

She saw a gleam in his eyes and
turned away from him. ‘Why have you come to see me, Mr
Howard?' she asked.

To thank you for the way you coped
with the crisis. I gather you've been in touch with the Public Health Officer
and that they've traced the source of the food poisoning. You acted very
quickly.'

'It was routine. Any doctor would
have done the same. Or did you think that a woman would cave in when faced with
an emergency?'

'I asked for that,’ he said
quickly, ‘but can't we let bygones be bygones?'

She
knew it was the nearest he would come to making an apology
for his earlier reluctance to employ her, and wished she did not find it so
hard to forgive him. Yet she could not overcome her feeling of antagonism and
wondered what there was about this man that caused it. She was suddenly
conscious of how fast her heart was beating and hoped he would not notice the
quick rise and fall of her breasts. She put her hand to her hair in a nervous
gesture, pushing away the soft tendrils that lay on her forehead.'

'I—I've already forgotten our first
meeting, Mr Howard,’ she said jerkily.

'Good. Now how about having a drink
to the future?'

'I only have tea or coffee.'

'I thought that might be the case,’
he said, and from the pocket of his overcoat took out a bottle of champagne.

She stared at it ‘You aren't going to open that?'

'Short of extracting the champagne
with a hypodermic needle I see no other solution!'

'It's just that it's a whole bottle,’
she said lamely.

‘Where are the glasses?' he asked.

'In the dining room sideboard,’

He turned on his heel and she
followed him, watching as he took two glasses from the cupboard, held them up
to the light and frowned. She was immediately conscious that they were dirty
and went pink with embarrassment.

'I haven't bothered cleaning things
I don't use,’ she said, and went to take the glasses from him.

‘I’ll do it,’ he said, and took
them into the kitchen.

She watched as he rinsed the
glasses under the tap and then wiped them dry. For a big man he moved with
grace, his movements controlled, unlike his voice which was commanding and
brisk.

Back to the sitting room he went
and deftly uncorked the champagne, pouring it frothing into the glasses. He
handed her one and raised his own to her. Half expecting him to make some
toast, she was disappointed that he said nothing, though his eyes were intent
on her as he drank. Conscious of his gaze, she found it difficult to swallow
and was annoyed that he had the capacity to embarrass her yet remain so
impervious himself.

'I've arranged for you to have a
housekeeper,’ His deep voice broke the silence and Kate's glass shook in her
hand.

‘You've done what!'

‘I’ve arranged for you to have a
housekeeper. A Mrs Pugh. Her
husband was one of my foremen until he died. She gets a pension but would like
a job; not because she needs the money but because she's bored at having
nothing to do. She has no children here,’ he explained.

'I don't wish to be a surrogate one,’
Kate said carefully. 'I don't need anyone to take care of me.'