when
he started to expect more than she was prepared to give.
She walked purposefully down the corridor towards Peter's office. She
liked Peter Draven. He was good company and apart from that odd first
incident he always satisfied her in bed, or anywhere else he decided
was a suitable venue for sex. She didn't think he wanted anything more
than a light-hearted, fun affair, but if he did start to become
possessive, she knew she could break off the relation ship without
regrets. At least Faisel gave me that much, she thought. He taught me
not to let silly, romantic notions about love screw up my life.
Peter was updating his computer records when she entered the room. He
glanced at the clipboard she was carrying.
"Here, give me that. I'll put it on file for you."
"You might as well repeat my last reports," she said, unable to keep
the irritation out of her voice.
"Nothing's changed."
He grinned.
"You don't want your patients to get worse, do you?"
She shrugged and managed a slight smile.
"It would make me feel useful. At the moment I feel like a social
worker, walking round with a big smile, handing out a few vitamin
tablets and saying good morning, all for sex maniacs like Senor
Valiente and Senora Atriega."
Peter pushed his chair back and spun round to face her.
"Do you really miss being a house doctor? The long hours, the night
calls, the senior consultants who treat you like an idiot, and the
patients who do contrary things, like dying in spite of all your
efforts to save them?
Do you miss the smell of blood and guts, and disinfectant and excrement
and' "Yes," she interrupted.
"Stupid and illogical as it sounds, I miss it all. The blood and guts
and excrement, and the wonderful feeling when you tell a patient the
operation was a success, and they're going to be all right."
"And little Johnny will play the violin again?" He smiled.
"Yes, I know. Our job does have a few perks. So, how would you like
to recapture the glamour and excitement of being a real doctor again
for a couple of days a week?"
She looked at him curiously.
"Tell me more."
"I do voluntary work downtown, at a hospital you've probably never
heard of. El Inviemo," he said.
"The Winter Hospital?" she translated.
"Odd name."
"That's what everyone calls it," he said.
"And if you think it's a dig at La Primavera, you're right. El Inviemo
is under-funded, understaffed, the equipment's ancient and they're so
short of beds they usually ask patients to bring their own mattresses
and park them on the floor. Money was poured into La Primavera. The
staff at El Inviemo have to grovel for crumbs. But it'll certainly
satisfy your craving for the lovely smell of blood, urine and
disinfectant." His smile disappeared.
"And it's all most of the poor sods in Techtatuan have got when they
get ill. The senior doctor is Filipe Rodriguez.
He's five foot nothing, irascible and brilliant. He might even be some
kind of saint. I'm sure the locals think so, anyway. You'll like him.
He'll probably like you, too."
"Sounds great," she said. And she meant it. Not only would this give
her an opportunity to use her medical skills, but it might also provide
her with a chance to find out more about Lohaquin.
"But will I get permission to have a couple of days off?"
"Of course you will," Peter said.
"Leave it to me. I'll arrange it."
He grinned.
"I have friends in high places. And talking of friends, I've been
invited to a party. Have you heard of Carlos Marquez?"
The name was familiar. It had been on Major Fairhaven's briefing
sheet. The Marquez family were very rich, and friends with
Generalissimo Hernandez and Nicolas Schlemann.
"Isn't Marquez the name of a legal firm?" she asked casually.
"The biggest
he started to expect more than she was prepared to give.
She walked purposefully down the corridor towards Peter's office. She
liked Peter Draven. He was good company and apart from that odd first
incident he always satisfied her in bed, or anywhere else he decided
was a suitable venue for sex. She didn't think he wanted anything more
than a light-hearted, fun affair, but if he did start to become
possessive, she knew she could break off the relation ship without
regrets. At least Faisel gave me that much, she thought. He taught me
not to let silly, romantic notions about love screw up my life.
Peter was updating his computer records when she entered the room. He
glanced at the clipboard she was carrying.
"Here, give me that. I'll put it on file for you."
"You might as well repeat my last reports," she said, unable to keep
the irritation out of her voice.
"Nothing's changed."
He grinned.
"You don't want your patients to get worse, do you?"
She shrugged and managed a slight smile.
"It would make me feel useful. At the moment I feel like a social
worker, walking round with a big smile, handing out a few vitamin
tablets and saying good morning, all for sex maniacs like Senor
Valiente and Senora Atriega."
Peter pushed his chair back and spun round to face her.
"Do you really miss being a house doctor? The long hours, the night
calls, the senior consultants who treat you like an idiot, and the
patients who do contrary things, like dying in spite of all your
efforts to save them?
Do you miss the smell of blood and guts, and disinfectant and excrement
and' "Yes," she interrupted.
"Stupid and illogical as it sounds, I miss it all. The blood and guts
and excrement, and the wonderful feeling when you tell a patient the
operation was a success, and they're going to be all right."
"And little Johnny will play the violin again?" He smiled.
"Yes, I know. Our job does have a few perks. So, how would you like
to recapture the glamour and excitement of being a real doctor again
for a couple of days a week?"
She looked at him curiously.
"Tell me more."
"I do voluntary work downtown, at a hospital you've probably never
heard of. El Inviemo," he said.
"The Winter Hospital?" she translated.
"Odd name."
"That's what everyone calls it," he said.
"And if you think it's a dig at La Primavera, you're right. El Inviemo
is under-funded, understaffed, the equipment's ancient and they're so
short of beds they usually ask patients to bring their own mattresses
and park them on the floor. Money was poured into La Primavera. The
staff at El Inviemo have to grovel for crumbs. But it'll certainly
satisfy your craving for the lovely smell of blood, urine and
disinfectant." His smile disappeared.
"And it's all most of the poor sods in Techtatuan have got when they
get ill. The senior doctor is Filipe Rodriguez.
He's five foot nothing, irascible and brilliant. He might even be some
kind of saint. I'm sure the locals think so, anyway. You'll like him.
He'll probably like you, too."
"Sounds great," she said. And she meant it. Not only would this give
her an opportunity to use her medical skills, but it might also provide
her with a chance to find out more about Lohaquin.
"But will I get permission to have a couple of days off?"
"Of course you will," Peter said.
"Leave it to me. I'll arrange it."
He grinned.
"I have friends in high places. And talking of friends, I've been
invited to a party. Have you heard of Carlos Marquez?"
The name was familiar. It had been on Major Fairhaven's briefing
sheet. The Marquez family were very rich, and friends with
Generalissimo Hernandez and Nicolas Schlemann.
"Isn't Marquez the name of a legal firm?" she asked casually.
"The biggest
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