I took a deep breath. There was more to be said. ‘You do know it’s not just my face, don’t you?’
‘Well, I watched you nearly hack off your own feet. Your technique needs work.’
‘You saw that?’
‘We saw everything.’ Unconsciously, he tightened his grip. Without emotion he said, ‘When all the screaming started and you went down, I thought you were being butchered.’
He took a deep breath. ‘That was – not a good moment. Look, now is not the time, but when you’re well again, there’s something I want to talk over with you. Something important.’
‘That sounds serious. What’s the problem?’
‘No problem at all. And it’s not urgent.’
‘You said it was important.’
‘It is to me. You might have a different point of view.’
‘No, tell me now. You know how things can be at St Mary’s. How often do we get an opportunity to talk together? About something non pod-related, I mean.’
‘All right. I wanted to say …’
The door slid open, Peterson walked in, the moment was lost and I forgot all about it.
Chapter Five
A week later, I was as free as a bird. I packed up my few belongings, which now included a ten-foot-long scarlet snake with black felt eyes and a big green forked tongue. I’d made it from red stockings, stuffed and sewn together. The only sewing I’d ever done in my entire life. The stitching was erratic and the eyes lopsided. I still have it, curled up on the top shelf in my office.
Leon drove me back to St Mary’s. We drove slowly so we could have some time together.
He dropped me at the front door. ‘Go and see the Boss. He’s been a little – concerned.’
I bounced up the stairs. It was so good to be back.
Mrs Partridge sat at her desk. ‘Go straight in. He’s been at the window this last half hour.’
No, he wasn’t. He was at his desk, buried under paperwork. I skipped across the carpet radiating health and beauty.
‘Good afternoon, Dr Bairstow.’
He wrote on to the end of the line then looked up, his resemblance to a beaky bird of prey even more pronounced than usual.
‘Dr Maxwell. Why are you wearing a red snake in my office?’
‘Sorry, sir. Whose office should I be wearing it in?’
There was a bit of a silence.
‘I understand the medical profession has washed its hands of you.’
‘Yes indeed, sir. They’ve declared me perfect and there’s no more they can do for me. I’ve been released.’
‘I prefer the word unleashed.’
‘If you like, sir. I wouldn’t want to sully this happy moment by arguing with you.’
‘Let me take advantage of your generosity. Light duties for a month.’
‘Surely not, sir. They told me …’
‘Are you sullying the moment, Dr Maxwell?’
‘Perish the thought, sir. Just readjusting your perceptions.’
‘And exactly which of my perceptions need readjusting?’
‘So long as I don’t lift anything heavy, bend over, or stand on my head, then I can work normally.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, sir. Of course, it puts the mockers on my sex life.’
He became engrossed in a report – about light bulb consumption as far as I could see from reading upside down. After a while, he looked up. ‘Still here, Dr Maxwell?’
‘Not any longer, sir,’ and whisked myself out. It was so good to be back.
It took me ages to get to Sick Bay. I stopped in the hall, greeted the members of my department working there, and caught up on recent jumps, who was where and when, and listened to all the ‘face like a football’ jokes. I looked in on Mrs Mack in the kitchen and took a couple of chocolate brownies for Kal and me. Various people stuck their heads out of various doors as I passed, and I could feel St Mary’s opening up around me and welcoming me home.
The warmth and excitement stayed with me all the way down the corridor, but I found climbing Sick Bay stairs more of an effort than it should have been. My legs felt heavy. My heart felt heavy. Everything looked the same but there was something … The drive must have tired me more than I thought.
Dr Foster was waiting. She showed no signs of being pleased to see me. Patients ranked slightly below earwax in her scheme of things. I did get a hug from Hunter and some ‘hamster face’ jokes. If ever you have something life-threatening or embarrassing happen to you, you can always be sure St Mary’s will treat you with sympathy, sensitivity, and support.
‘Let’s have a look at you,’ they said, shoving me into a treatment room.
‘Beautiful,’ said Helen, her face about two inches from mine.
‘Thank you,’ I said, beaming.
‘Not you, cloth-head. I was referring to the work. You, alas, look much the same as ever.’
‘Well, it’s not easy to improve on perfection. Certainly, no doctor could ever do so. Where’s Kal?’
‘In your usual room. We’re renaming it The Black and Maxwell Wing. You’ll be sleeping here tonight. In case your face drops off in the night.’
‘OK,’ I said, having expected that.
‘A word, before you go.’