‘What a splendid day to take up my rod again after the operation!‘ exclaimed Mr Chadwick, blinking behind his glasses.
‘I‘m sure we‘re in for good sport. ‘Morning, Millichap. You know my own new man, I suppose? I say, Charles, you‘re fishing double-barrelled today, or what?‘
‘The rod is for you.‘ Mr Chadwick reverently handed it over, i know how you admired it that afternoon in the shop. And after all, Tim Tolly tells me you saved my life.‘
‘But my dear fellow — ‘ protested Sir Lancelot modestly. He felt it would be nearer the mark to say he had saved Tim Tolly‘s skin.
‘It is considerate of them to fix the wedding after the season ends,‘ smiled Mr Chadwick. ‘We shall not lose a single day‘s fishing.‘
‘I unfortunately have to attend my other niece Felicity‘s blasted nuptials next week, but I‘m hoping for an hour on the water before leaving.‘
‘I‘m delighted we came to such an amicable agreement over this lovely Witches‘ Pool,‘ observed Mr Chadwick. ‘You own it, of course, my dear Lancelot,‘ he added hastily. ‘Quite indubitably. Informing my solicitors to that effect was my very first act after the operation. And how- much I appreciate your generosity, leasing me the fishing rights in perpetuity for nothing. I only hope my health will remain strong enough to enjoy it.‘
‘Of course it will, man,‘ Sir Lancelot told him bluffly. ‘Though when you‘re in town for Effie‘s wedding you might as well have a check-up. See Simon Sparrow in Harley Street - capital feller, on the staff of my own hospital. Great Scott!‘ He grabbed Mr Chadwick so fiercely he nearly broke an arm. ‘Did you see that one? Bigger than Percival, I‘d say. Have a go at it, Charles.‘
‘Oh, no, Lancelot. You saw it first. Your fish.‘
‘Rubbish, man! After all you‘ve been through you deserve a bit of fun. Ye gods! Look at the rise under the tree.‘
The two fishermen faced each other. Slowly a look of rapture crossed their faces. It crept on them that Witches‘ Pool, not having been fished all summer, was quivering with enormous and highly gullible trout.
‘Both together!‘ Sir Lancelot gave the battle cry.
‘Glad to see Surrey won the Championship again,‘ Crimes was observing as the two gillies settled to watch their employers from the shade of the hawthorn bush.
Millichap looked up. ‘You interested in cricket?‘
‘You bet I am, mate. Only thing that kept me going in London. The Oval‘s a second home to me.‘
‘Go on? I‘m dead keen on it myself. I‘d have given a month‘s pay to have seen that Saturday in the Lord‘s Test.‘
‘I was there, mate,‘ Crimes informed him proudly. ‘All afternoon. One of the St Swithin‘s doctors had a spare ticket. I saw Strongi‘th‘arm and Winterbottom, every ball of it.‘ Crimes made himself comfortable on the crisp bracken. ‘I remember like it was yesterday, Strongi‘th‘arm came in at the Pavilion end when England were fifty-four for two. Haggert had taken off Duffy a couple of overs before, and McGregor was on at the Nursery end trying to get a bit of turn out of the wicket with his left-arm leg spinners — ‘
‘I‘m on!‘ cried Sir Lancelot. ‘I‘ve got the brute!‘
So we come to the close of that bewitching, irritating, fascinating, frustrating feminine thing, an English summer. We leave one pair of gentlemen quietly fishing, and another pair contentedly discussing cricket. I really cannot imagine a happier ending.
Unless, it occurs to me alarmingly, you not only find cricket a frightful bore but aren‘t much interested in fishing either.
RICHARD GORDON
DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE
Richard Gordon‘s acceptance into St Swithin‘s medical school came as no surprise to anyone, least of all him — after all, he had been to public school, played first XV rugby, and his father was, let‘s face it, ‘a St Swithin‘s man‘. Surely he was set for life. It was rather a shock then to discover that, once there, he would actually have to work, and quite hard. Fortunately for Richard Gordon, life proved not to be all dissection and textbooks after all... This hilarious hospital comedy is perfect reading for anyone who‘s ever wondered exactly what medical students get up to in their training. Just don‘t read it on your way to the doctor‘s!
‘Uproarious, extremely iconoclastic‘ — Evening News
‘A delightful book‘ — Sunday Times
DOCTOR AT SEA
Richard Gordon‘s life was moving rapidly towards middle-aged lethargy — or so he felt. Employed as an assistant in general practice — the medical equivalent of a poor curate - and having been ‘persuaded‘ that marriage is as much an obligation for a young doctor as celibacy for a priest, Richard sees the rest of his life stretching before him. Losing his nerve, and desperately in need of an antidote, he instead signs on with the Fathom Steamboat Company. What follows is a hilarious tale of nautical diseases and assorted misadventures at sea. Yet he also becomes embroiled in a mystery — what is in the Captain‘s stomach remedy? And more to the point, what on earth happened to the previous doctor?
‘Sheer unadulterated fun‘ — Star
DOCTOR AT LARGE
Dr Richard Gordon‘s first job after qualifying takes him to St Swithin‘s where he is enrolled as junior Casualty House Surgeon. However, some rather unfortunate incidents with Mr Justice Hopwood, as well as one of his patients inexplicably coughing up nuts and bolts, mean that promotion passes him by — and goes instead to Bingham, his odious rival. After a series of disastrous interviews, Gordon cuts his losses and visits a medical employment agency. To his disappointment, all the best jobs have already been snapped up, but he could always turn to general practice...
DOCTOR GORDON‘S CASEBOOK
‘Well, I see no reason why anyone should expect a doctor to be on call seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. Considering the sort of risky life your average GP leads, it‘s not only inhuman but simple-minded to think that a doctor could stay sober that long.
As Dr Richard Gordon joins the ranks of such world-famous diarists as Samuel Pepys and Fanny Burney, his most intimate thoughts and confessions reveal the life of a GP to be not quite as we might expect... Hilarious, riotous and just a bit too truthful, this is Richard Gordon at his best.
GREAT MEDICAL DISASTERS
Man‘s activities have been tainted by disaster ever since the serpent first approached Eve in the garden. And the world of medicine is no exception. In this outrageous and strangely informative book, Richard Gordon explores some of history‘s more bizarre medical disasters. He creates a catalogue of mishaps including anthrax bombs on Gruinard Island, destroying mosquitoes in Panama, and Mary the cook who, in 1904, inadvertently spread Typhoid across New York State. As the Bible so rightly says, ‘He that sinneth before his maker, let him fall into the hands of the physician.‘
THE PRIVATE LIFE OF JACK THE RIPPER
In this remarkably shrewd and witty novel, Victorian London is brought to life with a compelling authority. Richard Gordon wonderfully conveys the boisterous, often lusty panorama of life for the very poor — hard, menial work; violence; prostitution; disease. The Private Life of Jack The Ripper is a masterly evocation of the practice of medicine in 1888 — the year of Jack the Ripper. It is also a dark and disturbing medical mystery. Why were his victims so silent? And why was there so little blood?
‘... horribly entertaining... excitement and suspense buttressed with authentic period atmosphere‘ — The Daily Telegraph
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The Summer of Sir Lancelot Page 16
