'Is he well?'
'Mother and child both doing fine,' he assured her and led Shermaine
down between the row of beds, each with a black woolly head on the
pillow and big curious eyes following their progress.
'May I pick him up?'
'He's asleep, Shermaine.'
'Oh, please!'
'I doubt it will kill him. Very well, then.'
'Bruce, come and look.
Isn't he a darling?' She held the tiny black body to her chest and the
child snuffled, its mouth automatically starting to search. Bruce leaned
forward to peer at it.
'Very nice,' he said and turned to Ignatius. 'I have those supplies I
promised you. Will you send an orderly to get them out of the car?' Then
to Mike Haig, 'You'd better get changed, Mike. We're all ready to
leave.' Not looking at Bruce, fiddling with the stethoscope round his
neck, Mike shook his head. 'I don't think I'll be going with you,
Bruce.' Surprised, Bruce faced him.
'What?'
'I think I'll stay on here with Ignatius. He has offered me a job.'
'You must be mad, Mike.'
'Perhaps,' agreed Haig and took the infant from Shermaine, placed it
back in the cradle beside its mother and tucked the sheet in round its
tiny body, 'and then again, perhaps not.' He straightened up and waved a
hand down the rows of occupied beds. 'There's plenty to do here, that
you must admit.' Bruce stared helplessly at him and then appealed to
Shermaine.
'Talk him out of it. Perhaps you can make him see the futility of it.'
Shermaine shook her head. 'No, Bruce, I will not.'
'Mike, listen to reason, for God's sake. You can't stay here in this
disease-ridden backwater. I'll walk out to the car with you, Bruce. I
know you're in a hurry. He led them out through the side door and stood
by the
driver's window of the Ford while they climbed in. Bruce extended his
hand and Mike took it, gripping hard.
'Cheerio, Bruce. Thanks for everything.'
'Cheerio, Mike. I suppose you'll be taking orders and having yourself
made into a fully licensed dispenser of salvation?'
'I don't know about that, Bruce. I doubt it. I just want another chance
to do the only work I know. I just want a last-minute tally to reduce
the formidable score that's been chalked up against me so far.' report
you
'missing, believed killed' - throw your uniform in the river,' said
Bruce.
'I'll do that.' Mike stepped back. 'Look after each other, you two.'
'I don't know what you mean,' Shermaine informed him primly, trying not
to smile.
'I'm an old dog, not easy to fool,' said Mike. 'Go to it with a will.'
Bruce let out the clutch and the Ford slid forward.
'God speed, my children.' That smile spread all over Mike's face as he
