CHAPTER THIRTY: Lunch with Mr Stillman

The room in Welbeck Street gave Andrew a new feeling of his own importance. Frances Lawrence and Freddie Hamson made suggestions about decorations and furniture; and Hamson also found him a nurse – Nurse Sharp, a rather bitter but hardworking woman, who was a friend of the nurse that Freddie employed.

When his room was ready, it looked very grand. Andrew decided that he could charge his patients at least three pounds a visit here.

For the first week or two very few people came to see him, but then patients began to flood in. He was a busy man, driving backwards and forwards in his expensive car from his home to his Welbeck Street office, and from there to the Victoria Hospital. He rarely finished work until ten o’clock at night.

In June Ivory took out Sybil Thornton’s tonsils, and posted Andrew a cheque in payment for attending the operation.

One afternoon soon after this an old woman called to see Andrew about her throat. Her condition was quite easy to cure, but Andrew decided to send her to Hamson for his advice about the best treatment to give: Freddie had been so kind of late that he wanted to give him this opportunity to earn himself an easy three pounds. A week or two later Hamson, in return, sent Andrew one of his patients to examine.

That evening, as he drove home from his West End consulting room, Andrew felt very pleased with himself. But he found Christine far from pleased.

‘Mrs Lawrence telephoned you again this afternoon. No message!’ she told him.

He turned red. ‘What do you mean – again?’

‘This is the fourth time that she has telephoned you this week!’

‘Well?’

‘Nothing! I didn’t say anything.’

‘It’s how you look. It’s not my fault if she telephones me!’

He rushed out of the room. At once he felt sorry. Relations between Christine and himself were getting worse – and they had once been so happy! He had a sudden desire to please her. The next minute, he was in his car, driving to see Miss Cramb at her shop.

When he returned, he went into the living room and called out: ‘Christine! Come here a moment!’

She came at once.

‘Look, dear!’ Andrew said awkwardly. ‘I’ve bought you this. I know – I know that we have been quarrelling of late. But this ought to show you-‘ He broke off, and handed her a box.

As she opened it, her hands trembled. Then she gave a little cry. ‘What a lovely, lovely dress!’ Tears were running down her face. She turned to him excitedly. ‘You do love me, don’t you, dear? That’s all that matters to me.’

He smiled. ‘Of course I do. Listen, Chris – I’ll take you out to dinner today.’

He took her to a very expensive restaurant. ‘We didn’t have this sort of food in Drineffy,’ he laughed, as they began their meal.

Andrew was determined to have a good time; but Christine could not be cheerful. The room was crowded, hot and noisy. The noise of these rich people was hateful to her. Suddenly, she felt sick.

‘What’s the matter?’ Andrew asked. ‘Aren’t you enjoying yourself?’

‘Yes, of course.’ She tried to smile.

‘You haven’t listened to a word that I’ve been saying! You haven’t drunk any of your wine! When a man takes his wife out-‘

‘Can I have a little water?’ she asked weakly. She wanted to shout. She hated the place!

They finished their meal in silence, and drove home. Their relations were even worse than before. Christine felt terribly miserable. She began to lose her self-confidence; to ask herself if she was really the right wife for Andrew.

But Andrew’s worries at home were pushed into the background when, next day, he read in a newspaper that Richard Stillman – the man with a hospital in America who had written to praise his coal dust experiments – had come to England and was staying at a hotel in London.

Stillman had no medical qualifications. After leaving school, he had begun to study medicine at an American university; but before he had finished his studies his father died, leaving his mother very little money. In order to support his mother and sister, Stillman left the university to earn his living in an old family business. He hated this work. He continued to study medicine in his free time and, when he had saved enough money, he returned to the medical profession. But so many valuable years had been wasted that Stillman did not take a degree. Instead, he built a hospital for the treatment of people with lung diseases. At first, the American doctors refused to recognize him. But Stillman cured so many people that other doctors had failed to cure that he gradually won the respect of the American medical profession.

The English doctors still refused to recognize Stillman, but Andrew felt the greatest respect for him. He wrote to him at once, inviting him to lunch at the expensive restaurant to which he had taken Christine.

Next morning, Stillman telephoned him. ‘Dr Manson,’ he said. ‘I should like to meet you for lunch – but not at that restaurant. I hate the place! Come and have lunch at my hotel.’

When they had taken their seats at a quiet table in the dining room of his hotel, Stillman gave Andrew a friendly smile and said: ‘It’s very nice to be in England. I like your country.’

‘What is the reason for your visit?’ Andrew asked.

Stillman smiled. ‘As a matter of fact, I have come to England to start a small hospital – like my hospital in America. I am building it in the lovely Chiltern Hills, to the north-west of London. I expect that you know the area.’

Andrew leaned forward. ‘That’s interesting! I should like to see your hospital.’

‘I shall be delighted to show you round as soon as the place is ready. We shall treat mainly chest diseases, and I have one or two new ideas that may interest you.’

‘Really? Tell me about them.’

They spent most of the afternoon discussing Stillman’s new hospital.

Andrew left Stillman with a strange feeling of excitement. But when he returned home, he found Christine reading a prayer book; for some reason that he could not explain, this annoyed him. ‘Good heavens!’ he shouted. ‘Have you nothing better to do?’

‘What’s wrong? I used to read my prayer book before I met you.’

‘Oh, did you? Well, let me tell you this: you’re a fool!’

‘Perhaps. But I would prefer to be a fool and keep my self-respect than to be successful with no self-respect!’ With a great effort, she kept back her tears. Then, in a quiet voice, she said: ‘Andrew, don’t you think that it would be a good idea if I went away for a short time? Mrs Vaughan has invited me to stay with her for two or three weeks. Don’t you think that I ought to go?’

‘Yes! Go! Go at once!’ He turned and left the room.