Peter felt ill in his stomach. He shouldn’t because he already knew what the problem was, there weren’t going to be any surprises, he’d seen enough doctors now to know the original diagnosis from Doctor Appleby was spot on.
‘It’s not good; I can’t pretend it is, so I won’t. No, it’s not good,’ said Doctor Le Sueur and as soon as he said that Peter relaxed.
‘Ridiculous,’ he said, ‘that hearing that should make me feel better.’
‘Well, sir, we feel better when we know what we are dealing with. It’s the unknown that scares the hell out of a man.’ He stood up and went to the corner of the room where a filing cabinet stood next to a table with a washbasin and jug. The doctor poured water into the basin, washed his hands, dried them and then fossicked in the filing cabinet.
‘Ahhh,’ he said finally and pulled several pieces of crumpled paper from the back of the cabinet. He then proceeded to try to smooth out the paper with the flat of his hand on his desk. After several attempts he gave up and the paper stayed crumpled.
‘See here,’ Doctor Le Sueur said, jabbing his finger at the paper. ‘Oh, this is so terribly exciting, see this scientist here, Robert Koch, he injected rabbits with the — well, in layman’s terms with the tuberculosis germ — and he found it’s contagious, terribly contagious. Do you have any family, Mister Hooley? Well, if you do, for their sakes stay away from them. But it’s not all bad news because this other doctor, Doctor Trudeau — and you won’t hear this anywhere else, Mister Hooley, and you may well get advice saying this is utter rubbish, because that’s how the medical profession responds to new information, but let me tell you this — Doctor Trudeau had your complaint himself. His older brother Jim died of consumption and he then caught it himself but — this is the important part,’ Doctor Le Sueur leant forward over his desk and looked clear and straight at Peter so that Peter felt like he was in the headmaster’s study and shuffled a bit and sat up straight so the doctor would know he was giving him his full attention, ‘this Doctor Trudeau cured himself.’ And Doctor Le Sueur threw his hands in the air at the sheer miracle of it.
‘But I’ve been told my situation is hopeless,’ said Peter.
‘Well, it might be,’ said Doctor Le Sueur, leaning back in his chair. ‘I’m not God so I can’t tell you, but I can tell you that this Doctor Trudeau,’ and he waved the papers in the air, ‘cured himself with fresh milk — he took four big glasses a day — three healthy meals a day and as much exercise in fresh cold mountain air as he could manage, and by exercise I mean at least brisk walking.’
‘Cold fresh air, exercise, milk and healthy meals — that’s all?’ asked Peter, expecting there to be some secret.
‘That’s how he did it.’
Peter thought about it. If he was going to die anyway, what was there to lose? ‘Well, it’s worth a try. I could go to Daylesford. Do you think that it’s cold enough and high enough?’
‘If you like, I expect if you took the waters as well as Doctor Trudeau’s other recommendations that would be a very good thing. I certainly don’t see how the waters could do any harm. But remember, Mister Hooley, you are very contagious — this is now a proven fact so there must be no contact with family members. If you follow Doctor Trudeau’s advice you will be creating your own private sanatorium, Mister Hooley, if you have the means.’
Peter did have the means. He had been single for thirty years before he met Lilly, he’d had no one to spend his salary on until he met her and it was a decent salary. He thanked Doctor Le Sueur profusely and Doctor Le Sueur said, ‘I won’t shake your hand if it’s all the same, as you are contagious, but I do wish you luck and do let me know how you manage. If you’re successful in beating this I would be most interested in knowing.’
Peter walked to the motel in Little Bourke Street and got his briefcase and checked out. From there he walked to Georges in Collins Street, where he purchased a suitcase, a pair of trousers, a shirt, socks, undergarments, pyjamas, a dressing gown, a coat, and, most importantly, a woollen scarf. He chose the scarf he thought Lilly would have chosen, green with a red check running through it. Then he walked to Flinders Street where he took a coach to Trentham and then the train to Daylesford and a coach to Hepburn Springs. He walked into the Savioa Hotel and, pulling the scarf up over his mouth and nose as if he was cold and making sure to stand well back from Missus Gervasoni, he signed for a room.
‘I need the room indefinitely with all meals delivered to my door with a knock — that’s all, just a knock. I won’t bother anyone to bring the food in or lay it out and I’ll light my fire myself, thank you, if you just leave me kindling and wood each day.’
‘But our lovely dining room is just …’ said Missus Gervasoni.
‘No, I won’t be attending the dining room at all — you can take that for a fact but I would like to sit out on the front verandah each day to breathe the air, but I don’t want to be disturbed.’ And so Missus Gervasoni told her husband Angelo that they had a very reclusive guest who was sure to be someone famous or at least important and so they must follow his instructions exactly and make sure to bring up a bottle of their wine from the cellar for each meal and
