CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: New Patients

Miss Cramb’s cure caused surprise and excitement at her dress shop. She advised the other girls working there to go to Andrew; and they ah took her advice. Anxious to see what this great doctor was like, at least six or seven girls who had nothing really the matter with them attended his surgery every evening. Their visits greatly increased Andrew’s profits. But Miss Cramb was only beginning to express her thanks.

In the first week of June, Andrew received a letter asking him to call at the home of a Miss Everett, a rich woman who lived in a very expensive part of London. ‘This is my chance – at last!’ he told himself when, closing his surgery early, he left home to visit Miss Everett.

The servant who opened the door led him into a large, beadtifully decorated room where Miss Everett, a woman of about fifty, was waiting for him. She gave him one look and then came straight to the point.

‘My doctor has died. It’s a pity, because I trusted him completely. Miss Cramb suggested you to me. I looked up your qualifications. You’re well qualified!’ She paused and took another look at him. ‘I think that, perhaps, you might be the doctor for me. I always have treatment for hay fever at this time of year. You understand hay fever, I suppose?’

‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Which treatment do you have?’

She mentioned the name of a well-known cure. ‘My last doctor advised it. It has been very helpful.’

Andrew wanted to tell her that this treatment was useless, but decided that this would be foolish. He could not risk losing this chance to make money! He said: ‘Then I will give you the same treatment, Miss Everett.’

‘Good! I suggest that I pay you a pound for each visit. Do you agree to this arrangement?’

A pound a visit! He had never been paid so much before! The idea of giving a treatment in which he did not believe no longer worried him. What did it matter if it was useless? He was tired of failure. He wanted to succeed. And he would succeed!

He visited Miss Everett again the following day at 11 o’clock. He then called twice a week. After each treatment, they would talk together for perhaps half an hour. Andrew told Miss Everett of his desire for success, and she encouraged him.

On his last visit, she gave him a glass of wine and paid him a cheque for twelve pounds for his services. She then led him to the front door, and stood for a moment, looking at him. ‘Will you take the advice of a woman who is old enough to be your mother?’ she said. ‘Get yourself a good suit. You say that you wish to succeed. You will never be successful in those clothes!’

He walked down the road, feeling hurt and angry. But his annoyance soon passed. ‘She’s quite right,’ he thought. ‘How can I attract high-class patients if I wear clothes like these?’

When he reached home, he excitedly showed Christine his cheque. ‘Look at that, woman! This is real money – what a well- qualified doctor ought to has. Twelve pounds just for talking nicely to Miss Everett and giving her the E-treatment!’

‘What’s that?’ she asked, smiling. Then suddenly she was doubtful. ‘Haven’t I heard you say that that treatment is useless?’

His expression changed. She had made the one remark that he did not wish to hear.

‘You’re never satisfied!’ he shouted, and went out of the room.

The next day he went to a good shop and bought himself two new suits of clothes.

He felt a little awkward when, for the first time, he came down to breakfast wearing one of these suits. Christine was pouring out his coffee when he appeared. For a moment, she was too surprised to speak.

‘Andrew!’ she cried. ‘You look lovely! Are you going somewhere?’

‘Going somewhere? I’m going to visit my patients, of course! … Well, do you like it?’

‘Yes, It’s – it’s very nice. But…’ She smiled. ‘But it makes you look so strange!’

‘You prefer me to dress badly, do you?’

He finished in silence, and then left the room to start his work.

Three weeks later, he had reason to be glad that he had bought these suits, because Miss Everett then sent for him to attend a relative and a friend, both of whom wanted the same hay fever treatment. Andrew gave them the treatment without feeling at all guilty. Actually, he felt very pleased with himself. He was winning! His desire for success made him forget the bitter things that he used to say about other doctors who behaved in this way. He forgot, too, that this improvement in his affairs had been started by a fat little German woman in a cheap food shop.

Soon another exciting opportunity was offered to him. One afternoon, when he was counting the money that he had earned during the last month, the telephone rang.

‘Oh, Dr Manson,’ said a voice, ‘this is Mr Winch, the manager of the dress shop in which your patient, Miss Cramb, works. A lady has been taken ill in the shop. Will you come at once, please?’

‘I’ll be there in four minutes,’ Andrew promised him.

He was met at the shop by Miss Cramb, who explained: ‘It’s Miss le Roy. I advised Mr Winch to send for you.’

At that moment, Mr Winch himself appeared. ‘Oh, Doctor, I’m so pleased to see you! Come this way, Doctor.’ He led Andrew into a small room, where Miss le Roy was lying on the floor, shouting and crying. She was about twenty-four, with blue eyes and fair hair.

Andrew knelt down beside her. On the other side of her knelt another woman. ‘Oh, Toppy, Toppy,’ the woman kept saying.

‘This is a serious case,’ Andrew said. ‘Can you get me a chair, please.’

Slowly and very gently, Andrew lifted Miss le Roy, who was still shouting, on to the chair. He held her head, and said a few words quietly to her. Then suddenly he hit her on the face. Immediately, Toppy stopped shouting. Andrew hit her a second time.

Then he turned to her friend and explained. ‘Sorry! It was the only thing to do. She might have done herself harm if she had continued like that for any longer. She’ll be all right in a few minutes.’

‘I must take her home,’ said her friend. ‘Will you come with us?’

‘Very well,’ Andrew agreed.

They took Miss le Roy home by car. Her house surprised Andrew: he had never entered such a grand building before!

Toppy threw herself down on to a comfortable chair and said to her friend: ‘Ring the bell, dear. I want a drink. Thank heavens Father isn’t at home!’

A servant brought in some-drinks. When he had gone, Toppy’s friend smiled at Andrew and said: ‘I’m Mrs Lawrence. I think that I had better explain what happened, Doctor. Toppy had an argument about a dress that she had ordered. She’s been feeling very tired of late, and is rather quick to quarrel.’ She paused. ‘We are very grateful to you, Doctor.’

Toppy looked at Andrew. ‘I went mad, Doctor, didn’t I? Go on, Doctor – say that I went mad! Laugh! It was very funny!’

‘I didn’t think it funny!’ Andrew spoke quickly, feeling that he, too, should explain himself. ‘You had a bad attack. I am sorry that I had to hit you.’

There was a pause. Andrew had finished his drink. ‘Well,’ he said awkwardly, ‘I must get back to my work. Send for your own doctor tomorrow. Goodbye.’

Mrs Lawrence led him into the hall. She was tall, dark, and quite young. She gave him her hand, and said with a smile: ‘I admired your form of treatment. I can see that one day you will be a great success!’

Walking down the street, Andrew noticed to his surprise that it was nearly five o’clock. He had spent three hours in the company of these two women. He would be able to charge a high price for his services – a very high price!