DOCTOR AT LARGE

'It's so damnably irritating,' I told Grimsdyke in his room that evening. 'Here's this blasted Bingham, who's a walking disgrace to the medical profession, and here's this first-rate girl squandering her precious nights off duty at his feet. I can't believe it.'

'No accounting for the taste of women, old lad.' He stretched himself thoughtfully on his bed. 'Frightful gargoyles and crooks they fall for sometimes. You've only got to look through the wedding photos in the Tatler.'_

'But this-this Caliban, Bingham. What on earth can she see in him?'

Grimsdyke screwed his monocle into his eye and stared at the ceiling. 'Let us not lose sight of the object of the treatment. You wish to purge yourself of the hookworm Plumtree. Right? You intend to administer Macpherson for this purpose. But why not try some other anthelmintic? The hospital's full of nurses ready to quiver at a houseman's smile.'

I was silent for a second. 'As a matter of fact, I'm rather fond of Nan Macpherson.'

'Balderdash! Simple psychology-you wish to assert your superiority over Bingham by nabbing his mate. It's happening to chaps all the time.'

'You don't understand. She's a terrific girl, really. Tremendous vitality and good looks, with a wonderful sense of humour.'

'Delusions, delusions, delusions,' Grimsdyke murmured, putting his finger-tips together.

'Anyway, what do you know about psychology? All your patients are asleep.'

'If you don't believe me, try the experiment in reverse. Dangle Plumtree in front of Macpherson. Make her think she's wrecking the home. I guarantee she'll act like a thirsty cat with a saucer of milk.'

Although I had no faith in Grimsdyke's ability as a psychiatrist, I decided to take his advice because he was a more experienced man of the world than myself. Unfortunately the next day was Friday, and Nurse Macpherson was placed beyond reach by her official three nights off duty. She had clearly hinted to Bingham of my rejection in his favour, because he met me in the quadrangle at lunch-time with a broad grin, slapped me on the back, and said, 'By the way, old chap. Do you think you'll need me for anything tomorrow night? I mean, to give you a hand with a drip for a perf. or something?'

'Why should I?' I asked coldly. 'I never have done.'

'No, but just in case. I mean to say, Duckworth's H.S. is standing in for me. I'm going out,' he added, as though announcing he was about to swim the Channel.

'I hope you enjoy yourself.'

He giggled. 'I shall, old chap. Don't go out much you know, but this is something special.' He slapped his thigh, grinned again, and winked. 'Eh, old chap?'

'If you make your intentions as obvious to Nurse Macpherson as you do to me,' I said sourly, 'you won't get her out of the Nurses' Home. Good afternoon.'

I strode angrily into the nearest doorway, feeling sick.

My determination to win Nurse Macpherson was fanned by Bingham's grinning at me, rubbing his hands, and declaring, 'Lovely life, eh?' every time I met him the next day. Meanwhile, I was glad to hear from the Junior Pathology Demonstrator that Nurse Plumtree was richly infected with _streptococcus pyogenes,_ and would be off duty for at least a week. I sent her a letter of sympathy and a bunch of flowers, and patiently waited for the return of her rival.

The campaign was easier than I had expected. I apologized for my behaviour at our last meeting, and explained that her overwhelming attraction had swept me away from Nurse Plumtree, where my thoughts must henceforward dutifully repose. I murmured that, of course, Nurse Plumtree was a delightful girl, but if only Nurse Macpherson had been the staff nurse instead…I passed on all the remarks that Nurse Plumtree had made about her, and prepared to sit in the ward kitchen every night and wait.

That was on Monday. By Wednesday she had agreed to come out to dinner on her night off-as long as I breathed not a word to Bingham-and by Friday she was inviting me to help her look for lost tea-cloths in the small, dark, cosy linen cupboard behind the ward. On Sunday I decided that I was in love with her; and on Monday more exciting ideas began to take shape in my mind.

'You know, I've been getting on damn well with Nan Macpherson, thanks to your advice,' I said to Grimsdyke. 'Do you think that-I mean, what would you say the chances were of her-well, being as cooperative on a grander scale, as it were?'

'Pretty good, I should think,' he replied thoughtfully. 'She has what the nurses call 'a reputation'. Though that might merely mean she paints her toenails red and uses mascara.'

'Do you think I dare ask?'

'Why not? At the worst, she can only kick your teeth in.'

After a brief and breathless spell in the linen cupboard that night, I began, 'Nan, about next week. Instead of just dinner, how about-' I swallowed. I had dismissed the fire-escape as impracticable, because of Bingham. 'How about nipping out to the country somewhere, you know, and, well, you know?

There was a surprised pause. 'Doctor, Doctor!' she said playfully. 'Is that an indecent proposal?'

'It's a pretty decent one, as far as I can see,' I said brightly. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be funny about it. But if you'd feel inclined-'

'You'll have to go. Night sister'll be here in a minute.'

'But about next week-?'

'I'll see,' she said, laying her finger on my lips.

'I promise I wouldn't tell a soul. Especially Bingham. He hasn't done the same sort of thing, has he?' I asked, with sudden horror.

She laughed. 'Jimmy isn't out of the mistletoe stage.'

'Do say yes,' I implored. 'I can't stand suspense.'

'You must go, Richard! Night sister's due any second.'

'I won't go till you tell me.'

'Oh, well-I suppose I was going to buy a new tooth brush anyway.'

'Nan, darling! How wonderful-'

'Shhh! And remember-not a soul.'

'How could you think I'd breathe a word?'

I immediately woke up Grimsdyke.

'Can you imagine it, Grim?' I said excitedly. 'What luck! She's agreed. We're nipping off for a dirty week-end. Or a dirty night, anyway,' I corrected myself.

'You've woken me up to tell me this disgusting piece of news-'

'I want your advice. You see, I haven't had any experience of-of this sort of thing. Where do we go, for instance? Brighton? What do we sign in the visitors book Smith or Jones? Supposing they ask for our marriage licence or something-'

'There's a sort of country hotel called The Judge's Arms, on the way north, which is very romantic I've heard. You could try that. Now for God's sake let me get some sleep.'

'The Judge's Arms. Thanks a million times, old fellow.'

'I suppose you're going to these lengths to unload Miss Plumtree?' he asked sleepily, turning over.

'Good Lord! I'd completely forgotten about her.'

'I don't like it,' Grimsdyke muttered, dropping off. 'I don't like it a bit.'

For the next few days Bingham and I both slapped each other on the back like brothers. What the psychology was behind it I didn't dare to work out.

19

The stubborn streptococcus in Nurse Plumtree's throat refused to budge. She soon felt well again, but as no nurse could be let loose to spray penicillin-resistant organisms over the patients, second opinions were summoned. The senior ear, nose, and throat surgeon recommended that he remove her tonsils, excise her nasal septum, scrape out her sinuses, and extract all her teeth; the Professor of Bacteriology, a simpler-minded man, advised a week's