Clinical Judgements

by Claire Rayner

  ‘Thank God Jimmy’s late,’ Sian said and then looked from one to the other of them. ‘Well, you two really are the — look at you both! You’d think the bleeding cat had died. What is the matter, for Christ’s sake?’

  Suba had no idea why it happened, or whether she had intended it to. All she knew was that suddenly her mouth was open and words were pouring out of it. She was telling Sian all about it, about the way Shirley had taken her to the meetings, about her own worries about what was happening in the Gynae ward, about showing them the charts from Miss Buckland’s patient, the lot; and Sian sat and stared at her with her round boot-button eyes and said nothing.

  ‘And then I thought, if Prue said to them how glad she was that Miss Buckland had saved her baby, then it would help and maybe …’ Her voice trailed away then and she looked uneasily at Prue. ‘The trouble is, I’m not sure Prue is glad.’

  ‘So I see,’ Sian said dryly, and then leaned forwards again and pulled the scarf from round Prue’s neck and pushed it into her other hand. ‘Do mop up, love, there’s a good girl. You’ll get chapped if you don’t.’ And Prue, to Suba’s amazement, managed a watery grin and did as she was told.

  I’ll never manage to be any good as a nurse, she thought then with sudden cold certainty. It isn’t enough to be nice to them and to care about them and to mean well. You have to be a bit hard and tough and make them know that you are, and then they feel safe with you. I couldn’t have made Prue laugh, not for anything. But Sian did —

  But I’m not going away, for all that, another part of her mind retorted. I’m not giving up. Why should I? Maybe I can’t make them smile when they’re crying but I do care about them and I can make it better for them. I will. I know I will —

  ‘Why did you come here then, Prue?’ Sian said. ‘I mean, if it’s like Suba said and she asked you to help her and you don’t want to help on account of you didn’t want the pregnancy anyway — why did you come?’

  And again Suba felt despair trickle into her. That was what she had wanted to know too, but she hadn’t been able to ask Prue directly; yet Sian, just arrived, knowing nothing about it all, had managed to sort it all out in her mind so quickly. Oh, I wish I were like Sian, Suba thought. If only I were like Sian.

  Prue sat silent for a moment and then slid her eyes sideways to look at Suba. ‘You saw that woman that was there? At my place?’ she said and her voice was so quiet that they both had to lean closer to hear her. But it was at Suba she was looking and clearly Suba she wanted to speak to. And Suba began to feel better.

  ‘Ida Malone? Yes, I saw her.’

  ‘It’s all her fault, the lot of it.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘All of it.’ Prue’s mouth set in a stubborn line, but her lower lip trembled. ‘She won’t leave me alone. I said I’d do it, but I’m not sure — but she never bloody leaves me alone! Nearly caught me tonight, she did. Only I took the kids over to my friend in George Bernard Shaw House and I saw her turn up down in the yard and hid a bit and then left the kids and come out the other way. She’ll be that mad tomorrow that I wasn’t there, but I don’t care, it’s the only way I can do it — you know, get away from her for a bit, hide from her. But she’ll still make me do it.’

  ‘Do what?’ Sian said bluntly. ‘You’ll have to explain better than that, ducks. My chap’ll be here in a minute and I’ll have to go. So get on with it —’

  Prue took a deep breath. ‘It’s all that she can’t have kids, see. She was in for that —’

  ‘That’s right,’ Suba remembered. ‘Sub-fertility. Been trying for years — they were assessing test-tube possibilities, weren’t they, for her?’

  ‘That’s right. Only she’s no good for that. Too old.’ Prue suddenly looked better, pleased with herself. ‘Dried-up old hen, that’s what she is. The bitch — I hate her.’

  ‘Then give her the push,’ Sian said cheerfully. ‘You don’t have to see a woman you don’t like, for God’s sake. And what has she got to do with —’

  ‘I’m telling you!’ Prue said, sharper now, seeming rejuvenated in some way now she had put her feelings about Ida Malone into words. ‘She said to me, when we was in the ward, if she paid for everything, and she’d send me private, the best of everything, and looked after me now, and bought things for the kids, she’d have the baby for me —’

  ‘Eh?’ Sian was staring at her, her eyes wide. ‘What do you mean, have the — take it from you? Christ, are you talking about some mad sort of transplant? It’s amazing what they can do, I know, but this really is bloody mad —’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Prue actually managed to giggle. ‘Of course not. I just mean that she’d take the baby after it was born and say it was hers, and no one’d ever know, and I’d not have to let on to Gary and — well, it’d be all right. She paid back what I owed Jerry, and all — so I said all right in the end —’

  Sian waved aside these references to people she knew nothing about and went, with the same unerring certainty that had already made Suba feel so inadequate, to the core of the situation.

  ‘She said she’d buy your baby from you?’

  There was a little silence and then Prue said, ‘I suppose so. I never thought of it that way, but I suppose so.’

  ‘Well, I’m buggered,’ Sian said and then was silent.

  It was Suba who spoke first. ‘Do you want her to do that?’

  ‘No,’ Prue said and her voice was almost a whisper. ‘I don’t. And I can’t tell her. She’s — she’s funny, you know. She’d kill me, I think. She’s that — she’s a bit mad, I think. She’d kill me or something, I know she would. I’m scared of her.’ She lifted her head then. ‘That was why I said I’d come and see you. I might help you, see, do what you want, if you help me with her.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Tell her she’s got to go and leave me alone. Tell her she can’t have the baby — I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll manage somehow. Gary’ll just have to come back from his bloody Saudi Arabia, money or no money. I’ll manage. Only you’ll have to get rid of her —’

  ‘I—’ Suba stopped and swallowed, remembering Ida Malone’s face and the hardness of her voice. Just imagining speaking to her, telling her directly to go away and stop bothering Prue, filled her with so much fear that she felt her hands dampen with sweat. But she swallowed again and nodded her head firmly.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell her.’

  ‘Will you really?’ Prue looked pathetically grateful. ‘Oh, it’d make it so much better for me then. I’d feel better, I know I would. I’d stop being sick and everything. I know I would if only she stopped coming.’

  ‘I’ll tell her,’ Suba said, feeling better by the moment as she basked in Prue’s approval. She hadn’t looked at Sian like that.

  ‘What about the money?’ Prue said then and Suba blinked.

  ‘What money?’

  ‘She’s spent a lot on me,’ Prue said simply. ‘The bills like, and the food she brings. And the booking at the hospital — they made her pay in advance. A lot too. It’s one of these private places where you have to pay when you book. She told me it’s cost her over fifteen hundred quid already and there’s still a lot to fork out for, but she doesn’t mind because it’s worth it to her. But she won’t go now if she doesn’t get her fifteen hundred back, will she? What’ll you do about that?’

  ‘Fifteen hundred quid?’ Sian said, and her voice sounded strident after the low tones that Prue and Suba had been exchanging. ‘Christ, she was getting a baby cheap, wasn’t she? The bitch — how can anyone be so — it’s beyond me. Don’t you worry, Prue. She can’t get away with that —’

  ‘If she doesn’t get her money back she will,’ Prue said. ‘You don’t know her. You do, don’t you?’

  And she looked at Suba again, but there was none of the engaging trustfulness that had been there before and which had made Suba feel so good. Now she looked wary and angry.

  ‘Listen, if you want me to
talk up for your Miss Buckland you’ve got to get rid of Ida Malone, and I’ll tell you right now it won’t be easy unless you find the money to give her back. I’ve not got it and can’t get it. So, there you are —’

  ‘Glory be, he’s here,’ Sian said suddenly. ‘I thought he’d never make it. Listen, don’t you get yourselves in such a tangle, you two. You needn’t worry — my chap’ll know what to do.’ And her eyes were blazing with excitement as she looked at the figure pushing its way through the crowd. ‘Here, Jimmy, come and say hello to these two. This is Jimmy Rhoda, my boyfriend. He’s on the Globe, you know.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  This must be what patients feel like when they come into Old East for the first time, Kate thought: all this mysterious rushing round and people speaking a language that is incomprehensible — though I know they’re speaking English because I recognise some of the words — and the self-absorbed excitement of the people who work here, all apparently custom-designed to make me, the outsider, feel useless and stupid and supernumerary. And then she shook herself mentally and told herself sternly — Don’t be such a wimp. You don’t have to feel stupid simply because you’re in a strange milieu. They need you here; you’re important to them and their damned programme and don’t you forget it.

  But it didn’t really work. She still sat stiffly in the uncomfortable leather chair in the corner of the room full of chattering people and coffee cups and glasses of sour white wine and curly-edged sandwiches, as bejeaned young men with clipboards and tangle-headed girls in layers of ethnic cotton and with earphones slung importantly around their necks posed and shouted at each other for the benefit of onlookers like herself. She tried to ignore them and looked around for Oliver but he was still locked in close colloquy with a man who had pounced on him with loud cries of greeting as he had come into the hospitality room with her. They had worked together, it seemed, long ago and now appeared to be utterly absorbed in sharing memories of those days, and Kate felt a sharp bite of anger as she watched them.

  Oliver was supposed to be looking after her, dammit; it had been his idea to bring her here to do this damned programme. Why wasn’t he at her side making sure she was comfortable about it all? It was all right for him, radio man that he was; he was used to this sort of atmosphere. Why couldn’t he realise how badly she needed him? For two pins, she thought wrathfully, I’ll get up and walk out and then where would they all be?

  But then the two of them came over to her and Oliver introduced her to his companion as the producer of the programme, who with crinkle-eyed charm assured her that he was immensely grateful to her for giving up her precious time to come and help with the programme and shook her hand, holding it with two of his, and Kate thought — I hate people who do that, it’s so bloody phoney and American; and her moment of juvenile chauvinism made her feel illogically better. Dismiss the man as a smoothie, a practised chatter-upper and she need not take him seriously.

  ‘I can’t tell you what pleasure it is to see old Merrall here again,’ the producer was saying. ‘We were all lads together back in the bad old days at the Beeb, you know — they called us the three stooges, Oliver and Jimmy Rhoda and me. And we were, so green and wet we were amazing. I’ve every hope of luring him back here to make up the old team again — a duo at least if not a triumvirate as of yore —’ And now he crinkled at Oliver and Kate thought disgustedly — Surely Oliver doesn’t take this idiot seriously? But Oliver was grinning at the man with what seemed to Kate to be maudlin soppiness and she threw him a sharp glance and said, ‘Really? I’m sure that will be very agreeable for you both.’

  ‘Might even take old Rhoda on too,’ the man said, apparently unaware of the edge in her voice. ‘He’s coming tonight, you know, Oliver — a last-minute add-on to the debate —’

  Kate’s brows snapped down. ‘What’s that? I understood that the people taking part in this were Lemon and myself.’

  ‘Indeed, when we first arranged this with you on Saturday that was the plan — it was all we had at the time. But television programmes are organic things, you know. They grow by what they’re fed on. And change of course by what they lose. Lemon has refused to come on now. Called this afternoon. Says it is not necessary, would you believe —’

  ‘Not —’ Kate opened her eyes wide. ‘Then I imagine it isn’t necessary for me to be here either. Oliver? You said the point of this exercise was to refute the things that Lemon said. If he isn’t here to say them —’

  ‘We have his press release,’ the producer said. ‘He gave an interview to the Platt Agency, remember, and that’s on the record — so we’re using that. We’ve had time to make up cap gens to show his comments one by one — and —’

  ‘Cap gens?’

  ‘I’m sorry — dreadful the way we all use jargon, isn’t it? Almost as bad as you doctors. I mean, I put up the things he said as captions on the screen, and have a voiceover read them. Then you can answer them one by one. It’ll suit you better, my dear, I do assure you. It means you get the last word, you see. He’s the fool for refusing to come on the programme. There’s every likelihood that doing it this way you’ll emerge whiter than white —’

  ‘I’m not interested in any sort of — of exculpation drama,’ Kate said angrily. ‘I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of and no need to be painted whiter than white. I’m a responsible consultant and do what I do because —’

  ‘My dear Kate, I know that! You don’t mind my calling you Kate, I hope? We’re all informal here — so much pleasanter, don’t you agree? —’

  She didn’t, but she couldn’t say so without sounding childish and churlish.

  ‘— but I do think it will help you not to have Lemon here. By refusing to take part he does rather condemn himself out of his own mouth, you know. You agree, I know, Oliver —’

  ‘Yes,’ Oliver said quickly and reached out one hand to take Kate’s elbow. ‘You’re in safe hands, Kate, I promise you. This isn’t a programme where there’s any submerged hostility, believe me. I’ve been involved with a few of those. Everyone falls over backwards to be scrupulously fair to the protagonists but if that same everyone has taken against one of them there’s no question but it makes a hell of a difference to the outcome. They’re pitching here for you. This’ll stop all the fuss, I do promise you, Kate. Just you wait and see.’

  ‘Why is that man Rhoda going to be on the programme?’ Kate demanded, still not mollified.

  ‘Because of this morning’s piece in the Globe, of course.’ The producer opened his eyes wide and gazed at her limpidly. ‘You saw it of course.’

  ‘Of course I did not,’ Kate snapped. ‘I’ve better things to do with my time than read rags like that.’

  ‘A pity,’ he murmured. ‘If would have been an idea to see it. I’ll — er — I’ll see if I can find a copy somewhere —’ And he drifted away with a last slap on Oliver’s shoulder and vanished into the crowd, now thicker than ever.

  ‘Ye gods, what a repellent man,’ Kate exploded and Oliver lifted his brows.

  ‘Not at all. He’s a very decent man. If you knew as many television people as I do, you’d be on your knees praying thankfully because you’d got him doing this programme. A very good chap — and he controls J.J. very well indeed —’

  ‘J.J.? Oh, the one who — yes, I’ve seen him do this programme. Seems rather a smooth type —’

  ‘Oh he is. Bit long in the tooth now — been doing this programme for ever — but he knows what he’s doing. And he can be very tough. But with this producer in the gallery you’ll be in safe hands, and never you doubt it —’

  ‘What’s this about your friend Rhoda being on the programme? I didn’t count on that — he’s the ass who made such a drama over Kim Hynes, isn’t he? Started all the hubbub in the first place —’

  ‘Kate, you’re not being entirely fair, are you? I know you dislike him, but that doesn’t justify misrepresenting him. He didn’t start it. Kim Hynes started it herself, as you well know. We’ve talk
ed about this. She sold her story for a fat fee. It’s no good getting annoyed with Jimmy over that —’

  ‘Oh, I suppose not —’ Kate sat down again with a little thump, tired suddenly. ‘Oh, hell, I wish I’d never agreed to this. Better to be dignified surely and say nothing when people attack you. Qui s’excuse s’accuse and all that —’

  ‘Piffle,’ Oliver said shortly. ‘Goodman slandered you, dammit! You don’t sit down under that. You could sue him, for God’s sake. You’ve got justification!’

  ‘No way!’ Kate was very emphatic. ‘The last thing I do is go to law. That just drags it on and on —’

  ‘Fair enough. A reasonable decision. But the last thing you do after that last thing is let the man get away with it. You’ve got every chance of putting the record straight tonight and that will be the end of Lemon and his bile. That’s why you’re doing this programme and getting irritable with me is no help at all.’

  ‘I put the record straight this morning,’ Kate said sulkily, aware at a deep level that he was right, of course. ‘That radio programme.’

  ‘That reached about two million people at a time when they were concentrating more on their cornflakes and marmalade than they were on what you had to say. Probe reaches something like eleven million and it’s an audience that is sitting on its sofas and really listening — or mostly listening. This is the one that matters, my love, and the one that’ll stop all the fuss for good and all. I hope —’

  ‘Make-up, Miss Sayers. Would you be so kind?’ One of the ethnic cotton brigade was bobbing about in front of her and after a moment Kate got to her feet.

  ‘I don’t wear a great deal,’ she said suspiciously. ‘Won’t I do as I am?’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ the girl said soothingly. ‘We just like to check — for the lights, you know — if you’ll just come along. The other one isn’t here yet —’ She looked down at her clipboard, fussing a little, and then smiled brilliantly at Kate. ‘Not to worry. That means the girls will be able to concentrate on you — if you’ll just follow me —’