CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Fighting the System

Winter ended. Andrew now had the additional interest of his research into coal dust, which he had begun by medically examining every miner on his list. Christine helped by writing notes for him. Her knowledge continued to surprise him.

As the hours of daylight grew longer, Christine, without telling Andrew, began to make a garden, with the help of an old miner. One day, when crossing the broken bridge, Andrew discovered them at work by the stream.

‘Hey, what are you doing?’ he shouted from the bridge.

‘Wait and see!’ Christine called back.

She made a neat little garden in a corner of the rough ground; and a few weeks later she proudly led Andrew by the arm and showed him her first flower.

On the last Sunday in March, without warning, Denny paid them a visit. They were delighted to see him.

‘Page is dead,’ Philip said, as they sat down to lunch. ‘Yes, the poor man died a month ago. Miss Page is going to marry your friend Rees, the bank manager!’

There was a pause while they thought of Edward Page.

‘And how are you, Philip?’ Andrew asked, at last.

‘Oh, I don’t know! I don’t feel very content.’ Denny smiled. ‘Drineffy seems a lonely place since you people left. I think I shall go abroad for a time – if I can find myself a post!’

Andrew was silent, sad at the thought of this clever doctor wasting his life in this way.

They talked all afternoon, and Philip caught the last train back to Drineffy. When he had gone, Andrew realized how much he missed Philip’s friendship. They had shared the same ideas about the medical profession, and had worked with the same aim.

But the other doctors at Aberalaw seemed to have no aims at all. Urquhart, though a kind man, was old and had lost interest in his work. Medley had such a serious hearing problem that, when his patients told him about their illnesses, he never heard a word; and so, rather than risk giving them the wrong treatment, he always gave them a bottle of some harmless medicine. Oxborrow was a bad doctor for whom there was no excuse: he had so little confidence in himself that, before treating the simplest case, he would kneel by the patient’s bed and pray – and in the end he usually made him worse and had to send for Llewellyn! There was no friendship between the doctors: they did not like each other at all.

Andrew wanted to improve relations – to start a new system where the doctors would work together in a friendly spirit. He also wanted to stop the unfair arrangement of paying part of their salaries to Llewellyn.

He had made so many mistakes already that he did not dare to attempt this for the moment. But then, a week or two later, he met Con Boland.

Andrew had discovered a hole in his tooth and went to see the Society’s dentist. As he walked up the path to Boland’s house, he heard a loud hammering and saw, through the open door of a wooden building, a large man mending a car with a hammer. At the same moment, the man noticed him.

‘Hullo!’ he called out.

‘Hullo!’ Andrew answered.

‘What do you want?’

‘I want to make an appointment with the dentist. I’m Dr Manson.’

‘I’m the dentist!’ Boland laughed. ‘I’ve been doing some work on my old car.’ He put on his coat. ‘Come with me to the surgery, and I’ll deal with your tooth.’

At the surgery, which was almost as dirty as the garage, Con filled the hole, talking all the time. He had not washed his hands. He was a careless, pleasant man, who enjoyed life.

After filling the tooth, he threw his instruments into a bowl of water and invited Andrew to tea.

‘I’d like you to meet my family,’ he said.

Boland’s wife and five children, the oldest of whom was called Mary, were already having their tea when Con and Andrew entered the living room. This room was also untidy; the children’s toys were scattered all over the floor.

After they had been introduced, Mrs Boland said: ‘I meant to call on Mrs Manson, Doctor. But I’ve been so busy.’

Con burst into loud laughter. ‘Busy! She hadn’t a good enough dress to wear – that’s what she means!’ He turned to Andrew. ‘We are poor, Manson. We earn very little money, and of course we have to give some of it to the Big Chief!’

‘Who? Who’s the Big Chief?’ Andrew asked.

‘Llewellyn, of course! He takes money from me as well as from you!’

‘But why? You’re a dentist – not a doctor!’

‘Oh, he examines a patient for me occasionally.’

‘Listen, Boland,’ Andrew said quickly. ‘This arrangement is not fair! Why don’t we refuse to pay?’

‘Eh?’

‘Let’s get together and break off this agreement with Llewellyn,’ Andrew suggested. ‘We can ask the other doctors to join in with us too.’

Con gave Andrew his hand. ‘Manson, I’ll support you. We’ll work together.’

Andrew raced home to Christine.

‘Chris! Chris! I’ve met such a nice man – a dentist. Listen, dear, we’re going to do battle with Llewellyn!’ He laughed excitedly.

The following day Andrew discussed his plan with Owen, who was sympathetic. He then persuaded Urquhart, Oxborrow and Medley to come to his house that evening. Having made his arrangements, Andrew suddenly decided to warn Llewellyn. He spoke to Llewellyn at the hospital. ‘Look here, Dr Llewellyn,’ he said, ‘it’s only fair to tell you that we doctors object to paying you part of our salaries. I intend to suggest that we stop these payments. We’re going to meet at my house tonight to discuss the matter.’

Before Llewellyn could reply, Andrew turned and left the room.

The meeting began at nine o’clock.

‘Gentlemen!’ said Andrew. ‘Our system here is all wrong. We are all members of the same Medical Society; but, instead of helping each other, we are always quarrelling. The result is that we give ourselves additional work and we are not making the most of our skills. There’s no organization in our profession! We should change our system – work out some plan that will help us all.’ He paused to watch their faces. ‘And we should also refuse to pay money to Llewellyn. It isn’t fair! I spoke to Owen about it. He says that this is not a rule of the committee but a private arrangement between Llewellyn and ourselves.’

‘That’s correct,’ Urquhart agreed. ‘The arrangement was made nine years ago. Two doctors at the east surgery kept asking Llewellyn to examine their patients. So one day he called us all together and said that he refused to see any more of our cases unless we agreed to pay him part of our salaries. That’s how it started.’

‘But it’s Llewellyn’s duty, as head doctor, to examine our patients when we need his advice. His own salary is meant to cover work of this nature. Why should we pay him as well?’ Andrew asked angrily.

‘I agree! I agree!’ said Con.

Oxborrow now spoke. ‘Remember this: Dr Llewellyn is always prepared to take over our difficult cases.’

Andrew looked at him with scorn. ‘Do you want him to take over your difficult cases?’

‘Of course,’ said Oxborrow. ‘Who doesn’t?’

‘I don’t,’ Andrew shouted. ‘I want to cure them myself. I-‘

‘Oxborrow’s right,’ Medley interrupted. ‘The most important thing in medical practice, Manson, is to get rid of one’s difficult cases.’

‘What a suggestion!’ Andrew said angrily.

The discussion continued for nearly an hour.

Andrew then repeated: ‘We must refuse to pay. Llewellyn knows that we intend to refuse. I told him so this afternoon.’

‘What!’ shouted the three doctors. ‘You told Llewellyn!’

‘Of course I did! He must know some time. If we stand firm together, we’re certain to win.’

‘You had no right to tell him!’ Urquhart shouted. ‘Llewellyn has great influence. We may be dismissed!’ He got up and walked towards the door. ‘You’re a nice man, Manson, but you have no common sense. Good night.’

Medley and Oxborrow followed him, leaving Con and Andrew alone in the room.

Andrew opened some bottles of drink and, with this to comfort them, they sat down and discussed the stupidity and weakness of the other three doctors. They talked for so long that they did not hear Christine come in and go to bed.

Next morning, Andrew had a bad headache. While walking down the street to see a patient, he passed Llewellyn in his car. Llewellyn smiled at him.