‘Ah no. I’m afraid she retired a couple of years ago.’ That had been a day of mixed emotions. Elizabeth had never been keen on the woman, but perhaps it hadn’t been either of their faults – rather it was just that she resented her. When she’d married Eric, she’d imagined them being a team. The arrival of Annie O’Neill had placed her firmly on the bench, so her only contribution had been in later years, to come down here and clean the place when it was empty or help out in moments of crisis. Elizabeth had never been good enough to be a full-time receptionist, but she could do for the weekends. She’d been the one to hold crying babies when their mothers had an examination or to cajole small children when they needed to get their shots.
‘Her daughter took over from her, when she retired. Alice is a lovely girl. She’s actually a nurse, so I suppose it was lucky for us. She knows what she’s about…’ In spite of herself, Elizabeth liked Alice. She hadn’t inherited her mother’s bossy nature; rather, she was far too harassed trying to keep her family, job and overbearing mother all happy at the same time.
‘You were lucky there. I remember Alice from school and she was lovely,’ Lucy said warmly. ‘And she only does reception?’
‘Well, yes, of course. What else?’
‘Oh, no, I just wondered…Surely for a registered nurse, there would be opportunity to use her skills to save on time for the doctor on duty?’ It was an offhand remark, but so thoroughly sensible that it sounded as if a decision had already been made.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Elizabeth said evenly; not that it mattered now, because suddenly, it was obvious that this couldn’t really be a surgery for much longer. Even the examination table in Eric’s office was being held together with a couple of nails and an elastic bandage.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ Lucy murmured. She had walked back behind Eric’s desk now and was looking at his old medical bag. ‘That’s such a lovely piece of history, really, isn’t it?’ she said softly and it occurred to Elizabeth that perhaps they were seeing the place very differently. Whereas, all Elizabeth could see was how forlorn and antiquated everything was compared with the surely bright and modern hospital Lucy was accustomed to, Lucy was seeing the place with the rose-tinted view of pastoral nostalgia. ‘You’d have to wonder, how many people have been made well as a result of the contents of this bag, wouldn’t you?’ she said, holding it up now and tracing her hand along the soft leather and the blackened, dull clasp lock.
‘It was a gift, from Eric’s mother when he graduated from medical school. I’m not sure it was new, even then,’ Elizabeth said a little fondly. ‘He’s hardly used it these last few years. He hated doing house calls. I suppose, the only people he’s actually gone out to are… well, people who couldn’t possibly come in.’ That was the truth; you had to be literally on death’s door before he’d make an appearance. So, his house calls the last couple of years had been predictable. They were to the dying or the already dead, if he was running late.
‘I suppose, one man, on his own, it’s hard to get to everyone.’ Lucy shrugged, too young yet to be dragged down by the fact that eventually, as Eric had said once, everyone dies, regardless of what you do. Elizabeth shivered.
‘It’s cold in here; we should probably go back upstairs.’ Elizabeth knew the cold had little to do with the temperature of the place and everything to do with the realisation that her options had drastically narrowed. She couldn’t ask this young woman to pin her future to a sinking ship. That would be unforgivable. She wasn’t even sure, when all was said and done, that Eric had been making enough wages to pay a doctor and clear off his debts – wasn’t that probably the reason he’d buried his head in the sand at the end?
She made for the door, assuming that Lucy was following behind. She was almost at the stairs when she realised that she was alone. She stood for a moment, feeling as if she was about to fall from a precipice into the unknown. She would have to think of another way to sort out Eric’s gambling debts. She was quite sure that employing a doctor to take over the surgery was not going to be the answer. It was a funny thing, but all these years, she’d believed them to be well off; not just because she hadn’t realised they were in debt far over their heads and not because she’d been blithely unaware of her husband’s gambling habit. Rather, she’d thought that they were financially comfortable because her husband was a GP. It was a good job, a career that had income flowing into their home on a daily basis, but what if she’d been wrong?