CHAPTER FIFTEEN: A New Qualification

Andrew felt very miserable. On Sunday morning, while lying in bed, he suddenly shouted at Christine: ‘I don’t mind about the money! It’s the idea of making these payments that angers me. Why can’t I forget about it? Why don’t I like Llewellyn?’

‘I think you are jealous of Llewellyn!’ said Christine.

‘What!’ Andrew shouted. ‘Why should I be jealous of him?’

‘Because he’s very good at his work, and – well, because he’s a better qualified doctor than you are.’

‘God! Now I know what you really think of me!’ He jumped out of bed and began to walk about the room. ‘What do qualifications matter?’

‘Well, love, you don’t want to remain here all your life, do you? If you had a good degree, it would help you to get a better post.’

Andrew swung round. ‘Chris, you’re right!’ He thought for a moment. ‘But no – it isn’t possible! To take a degree, I should have to learn some foreign languages.’

Christine ran up and kissed him. ‘You would only need a little knowledge of the languages. And I could help you. Remember: your wife was once a schoolteacher!’

They made plans excitedly all day, and that evening Christine gave Andrew his first lessons. She helped him every evening. Andrew studied to such a late hour each night that when he went to bed he was often too tired to sleep. He lost weight and became thinner in the face. But Chris was always there to comfort and encourage him.

By August, which was a very hot month, Andrew was ready to do some practical work in medicine. This presented another difficulty: where could he get this experience? It was Christine who thought of Challis and his important post at Cardiff University. When Andrew wrote to him, Challis immediately agreed to let him work at the University.

‘You were quite right, Chris!’ Andrew said. ‘It is nice to have friends. And I didn’t want to go to the Vaughans’ that night when we met Challis!’

Andrew bought himself an old motorcycle. There were three afternoon hours during which Andrew was not on duty. So on those days, after lunch, he rode 50 kilometres to Cardiff, worked at the University for one hour, and then rode back again. The work and the long journey in the heat made him so tired that he was almost ill.

At last he had covered every subject in which he would be examined. He went alone to London to sit for his degree. Now that the event was so near, Andrew felt that he knew nothing. But when his examination began, he wrote and wrote, never looking at the clock.

On the second day he was examined by two doctors, in turn, on the practical work of medicine. Andrew found himself fearing this even more than he had feared the written papers. His first examiner, Dr Gadsby, looked at him coldly, and then asked him six questions. Five of these Andrew answered correctly, but the sixth he could not answer. Appearing to lose his patience, Gadsby repeated the question several times. Then, without a word, he passed him on to the second examiner, Sir Robert Abbey.

Andrew crossed the room with a pale face. He felt certain that he had failed already. He raised his eyes, and saw Robert Abbey smiling at him.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Abbey.

‘Nothing, sir,’ Andrew answered slowly. ‘I don’t think that Dr Gadsby was very pleased with my answers – that’s all.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Abbey comforted him. Though Abbey was now one of the most famous doctors in Europe, he remembered his own early struggles and therefore felt great sympathy for Andrew.

He began in a friendly manner to question Andrew. His questions, at first simple, gradually became more difficult. But Andrew, encouraged by Abbey’s pleasant manner, answered well.

Abbey then asked him a question about a condition of the body called “aneurism”.

‘Do you know the history of aneurism?’

‘Pare,’ Andrew answered, ‘is supposed to have been the first man to discover the condition.’

Abbey’s face expressed surprise. ‘Why do you say “supposed”, Dr Manson? Pare did discover aneurism.’

Andrew reddened. ‘Well, sir, the medical books say so. But I don’t think that they’re correct. When I was studying for my degree, I read a long description of aneurism in a book that was written 1,300 years before Pare lived!’

Abbey looked at Andrew with a strange expression.

‘Dr Manson,’ he said, ‘you are the first person in an examination who has ever told me something which I did not know. Well done!’

Andrew turned red again.

‘Now just answer one more question,’ Abbey ended. ‘What do you consider the most important rule for a doctor?’

Andrew thought for a moment. ‘I suppose – never to believe anything till it is proved.’

‘Thank you, Dr Manson.’

At last it was over. At four o’clock in the afternoon Abbey came to him, smiling, and told him that he had passed.

He had done it! He had got his degree! He ran down to the nearest post office and sent a message with the great news to Christine.