Doctor On The Boil by Richard Gordon Page B

skirt right down to her ankles.’
    ‘Exactly.’ He nodded briskly. ‘The nurses wore dresses like that in my young days, and I really saw no necessity to change them. The patients in our wards want – for once in their ruddy lives – to savour the tenderness of womanhood, not the sexiness. No female would ever wear a skirt above her calves out East–’
    He stopped. He covered his eyes again. ‘My dear girl,’ he continued weakly to Nurse Smallbones. ‘Please wear your dress any length you fancy. Serve the patients’ dinners stark naked if the idea possesses you. Though I fear you would find our antiquated wards somewhat on the chilly side. What does it matter if your clothes reach to your malleoli or your symphysis pubis? It is fashion, mere triviality, we spend our brief lives foolishly obsessed with such things. Back to your duties, Nurse Smallbones. And bless you, my child.’
    ‘Are you feeling all right, Lancelot?’ asked Tottie Sinclair in a puzzled voice.
    ‘Yes. That’s the saddest part of it.’ Sir Lancelot bravely jutted his bearded chin. ‘I have but six months left.’
    ‘No!’
    ‘The dean has just made the diagnosis. A physician of his calibre can hardly be imagined to make any mistake.’
    ‘But…but what is it?’
    ‘An obscure Asian disease. The name would mean nothing to you. But it has wiped out whole cities in China – though of course, Mao Tse-tung and his lot keep it a dead secret.’
    Tottie took a lace-edged handkerchief from the pocket of her uniform to dab the corner of her eye. ‘Oh, Lancelot! But you’re so young.’ She paused. ‘To me, at any rate.’
    ‘Tottie, will you have dinner with me tomorrow? Just for old times sake?’
    ‘Of course I will. How could I refuse you anything?’
    ‘I’ll pick you up here at seven. Or round the corner? You might prefer that, as more discreet.’
    ‘I think it would be best.’
    ‘I shall try to make it as cheerful an occasion as possible,’ he told her gallantly. ‘That girl’s long skirt, by the way. She meant it as a joke, I suppose?’ Tottie smiled and nodded. ‘I thought as much. Well, let the youngsters get some innocent fun out of me, while they can.’
    Sir Lancelot hurried down the front steps and climbed into his Rolls, which stood neatly across the white letters saying NO PARKING. He accelerated briskly across the courtyard to turn out of the main gate. Unfortunately, a small old car, which seemed to be held together mainly by strips of surgical sticking-plaster, happened at that moment to be turning into it. There was a crash, and the small car seemed to disintegrate into a heap of spare parts.
    Sir Lancelot climbed out furiously. ‘You idiot! You cretin! Do you realize that you might easily have scratched my coachwork?’
    ‘Didn’t you hear my ruddy horn?’ replied Terry Summerbee indignantly.
    ‘Don’t argue with me , boy! I always have right of way through that gateway. I know you, don’t I?’ Sir Lancelot eyed him more keenly. ‘You’re one of the students. Let me say that if you operate the way you drive, you’ll solve the world’s population problem in no time.’
    ‘I am not going to be bullied by anyone – sir,’ Terry told him stoutly. ‘It was your fault, and you know it.’
    ‘How dare you. There was enough distance from here to China–’
    Sir Lancelot stopped. He shaded his eyes. ‘Dear boy, you are right. Quite right. I apologize. Doubly so. My breach of the Highway Code was exceeded only by my breach of good manners.’
    Terry gave a surprised smile.
    ‘Where were you going? A maternity case? Some errand of mercy, as the newspapers say?’
    ‘Actually, I was going to pick up a bird – meet a young lady, sir.’
    The surgeon invited with a grand sweep of his arm, ‘Take my car.’
    ‘Yours, sir?’
    ‘For the evening. I’m sure you will handle it safely, and it will be much easier to drive than your own contraption. Don’t thank me, dear boy.’ Sir Lancelot patted his