Chameleon

'Nasty,' said Jamieson. 'Did they manage to trace the source of the infection?'

'No, and that's the real crux of the problem,' said Macmillan. 'Despite intensive investigation by the staff of the Microbiology Lab at the hospital and a flurry of disinfection after the second death, the problem has persisted; three days ago a third woman contracted the infection. She's very ill.'

'That's all a bit odd,' said Jamieson. 'Surely with a bit of co-operation between the labs and the surgical teams it should have been possible to identify the source of the outbreak and clear it up?'

'You have put your finger on the problem when you said 'co-operation',' said Armour. 'The head of surgery at Kerr Memorial is rather a difficult man. Thelwell's his name. He is currently blaming the lab for failing to identify the source of the infection. Richardson, the consultant bacteriologist, is naturally having none of it. He maintains that if the wards and theatres are clean then the fault must lie somewhere within the surgical team itself.'

'Both sides have become entrenched,' added Macmillan.

'That makes things awkward,' agreed Jamieson.

'The local press haven't got on to the staff disharmony angle as yet but it can only be a matter of time. They're already showing signs of latching on to the problem as a political football. You know the sort of thing, cut- backs equal dirty hospitals, understaffing means danger for the patients.'

'And where exactly do I fit in?' asked Jamieson tentatively.

'You are a surgeon, you can tell good practice from bad. You have also spent enough time in Microbiology labs to be familiar with their side of things. We would like you, if you decide to join us, to go up there and take a good look at the situation. Try to find out where the problem lies and if possible sort it out.'

'My presence will be resented,' said Jamieson.

'Indeed it will,' agreed Armour. 'What people see as outside interference is never welcome in any profession, perhaps least of all in ours.'

Jamieson nodded and asked, 'What if they should refuse to co-operate?'

'They can't,' said Macmillan. 'You will have the full authorisation of Her Majesty's government to make any enquiry you wish. We would prefer you not to stand on too many toes but on the other hand when it comes to playing silly buggers with peoples' lives personal dignity comes second.'

'I see.'

'You can have until tomorrow lunch-time to decide whether you want to join us or not,' said Macmillan. 'We must know by then.'

'If it's not a rude question…' began Jamieson tentatively.

'You'll be paid a salary equivalent to that of a senior registrar,' said Macmillan.

'Time won't be necessary,' said Jamieson firmly. 'I've already decided. You can count me in.'

'Excellent,' said Macmillan. He got up and shook Jamieson's hand. Armour and Foreman did the same. 'Miss Roberts will give you details on the way out. The sooner you get started the sooner this business will be cleared up.'

'I'll travel up tomorrow if that's all right,' said Jamieson.

'You had better take this,' said Macmillan handing Jamieson the file on Kerr Memorial that lay in front of him. 'You will find information on the senior staff in here. It's as well to know something about the place before you arrive.'

Jamieson left the room and gave Miss Roberts the information necessary for her to complete the paper work for his appointment. She, in turn, provided him with documents of authorisation and two credit cards. A booklet on allowable expenses was included. He was asked if it would be convenient to have his photograph taken and undergo a routine medical examination that same afternoon. Jamieson said that it would. He had nothing else to do that day so he would have some lunch and come straight back.

Jamieson left the building feeling good for the first time in a long time. He had found himself a real job, not just a place on a refresher or retraining course but a real job and what was more, it sounded interesting. He phoned Sue from the first call box he came to and told her the news.

'That's marvellous,' said Sue. 'What is it exactly?'

'I'll tell you when I get home but it's something useful and I feel good about it.'

'I can hear that,' laughed Sue. 'When do you start?'

'Tomorrow.'

'That was quick!'

'… In Leeds.'

'Leeds!' exclaimed Sue with dismay in her voice. Does this mean we have to move to…'

'No it doesn't,' interrupted Jamieson. 'We stay where we are but if the job works out I may find myself away from home quite a bit. We can talk about it when I get back.'

'What time will you be home?'

'Early evening.'

'Bring some wine in with you,' said Sue.

It started to rain as Jamieson drove back along the A2 towards Canterbury. By the time he had passed through the town and was travelling along the lanes flanked by fruit farms he could tell from the heaviness of the sky that there was a lot more to come.

Water streamed down the windows of the cottage as Sue served up dinner and Jamieson told her about his job.

'Sounds like you are going to be some kind of medical detective,' said Sue.

'Not really. I think it's more a case of an outsider being able to see something that people who are too involved might miss.'

'The wood for the trees,' said Sue.

'That sort of thing.'

'More wine?'

'I have to work,' said Jamieson.

'On our last evening together?'

'I have to read through some papers about the hospital. I'm sorry but it is important…'

Sue smiled at Jamieson’s discomfort and kissed him on the forehead. 'Go on with you then,' she said. 'I'll clear up.'

Jamieson took the file he had brought home upstairs to the small room he used as a study and turned on the desk lamp. The desk was directly beneath the window and he watched the rain beat against it briefly before adjusting the angle of the lamp and starting to work his way through the papers. He left the main light off, preferring instead to use the circular pool of light from the desk lamp as an island of concentration.

Two hours later, Jamieson felt satisfied that he had assimilated all the information necessary to give him a head start at the Kerr Memorial. He had familiarised himself with the names and backgrounds of half a dozen of the senior staff at the hospital and how they related to each other in the hierarchy of hospital life. He flipped the folder shut and leaned back in his chair to stretch up his arms into the darkness outside the scope of the lamp.

Sue came into the room and came up behind him to wrap her arms around his shoulders and rest her cheek against the top of his head.

'We have some unfinished business,' she said.

'We have?'

'This morning…’

They paused on the landing outside the study door and Sue said, 'Ssh! Listen!' They listened together to the sound of the rain on the roof and of the larger drops falling from the branches of the willow tree outside. 'I love this place,' said Sue. Jamieson kissed her hair and said, 'I know, so do I. I'd like us to grow old here. I'd like to sit out there on a summer's evening watching my grandchildren playing round a house that stood here a hundred years before Bonnie Prince Charlie marched south.'

'Who's a sentimental old softy then?' said Sue.

'Me,' said Jamieson. 'Until tomorrow.'

Sue turned her face up to Jamieson and said softly, 'At least I've got you until then.' She pulled his mouth down on to hers.

Jamieson was up first in the morning. He was in the bath when he heard Sue get up and go downstairs. The