An Ideal Wife. Betty Neels

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      The men exchanged a look. ‘Splendid,’ said Sir James, but Dr Gifford didn’t say anything.

      ‘Dr Gifford will take over from me at lunchtime and there will be the normal consulting hours. We are fully booked for today, are we not?’

      When she nodded, he added, ‘Tomorrow’s patients have already been notified; those in the morning will come as usual, the afternoon patients I have asked to come on the following day. As you are aware, I do not as a rule see patients at the weekend. But this leaves Dr Gifford free to return home tomorrow afternoon and return here late on Saturday morning.’

      He paused. ‘I make myself clear?’ When she nodded again he added, ‘You will be good enough to return with him tomorrow directly after the morning consulting hours, stay the night and return with the doctor ready for Saturday afternoon here. Sunday will be free.’

      When Louisa said nothing he continued, ‘Dr Gifford will come on Monday morning, stay until Tuesday noon, and then return to his own practice until Wednesday afternoon. You will go with him. There will be a good deal of work involved, reorganising the patients, but I believe that it can be done, especially when they realise that the circumstances are urgent and unusual.’

      She longed to ask why, but she merely said, ‘I will do all I can to be of assistance, Sir James.’

      ‘Yes, yes, you’re a good girl. I’m sure you will.’ He looked up as there was a tap on the door and Mrs Grant came in. And the whole business was gone over again. If Mrs Grant was surprised she didn’t allow it to show.

      ‘Of course I’ll do all I can to help, Sir James. I’m sure we’ll manage until you get back.’ She smiled at him and then at Dr Gifford, who smiled back at her—nicely too, Louisa noted. He hadn’t said a word but she rather fancied that he had had a good part in the planning. Sir James was a brilliant man but liked someone else to dot his ‘i’s and cross his ‘t’s. She gave a surreptitious glance at the desk and saw that the papers were maps of the Middle East and some airline ticket folders. She looked away, suddenly aware that Dr Gifford was watching her. He was going to be a hard taskmaster, she reflected.

      Sir James asked suddenly, ‘Miss Howarth, your stepmother will have no objection to your altered schedule?’

      ‘I live on my own, sir.’

      ‘Have I been told of your change of address?’

      ‘Yes, sir; it’s written in your address book on the desk and it was written into your day diary.’

      He laughed. ‘Can’t catch you out, can I?’

      ‘I should hope not, sir; I wouldn’t be of much use to you if you could.’

      He laughed again, in a high good humour. ‘Well, that’s settled, and thank you. I shall leave you and Dr Gifford to iron out any wrinkles.’

      And there will be plenty of those, reflected Louisa. Not normally a gloomy girl, the immediate prospect didn’t please her.

      The first patients would be arriving very shortly, so she and Mrs Grant set about their various jobs, much hindered by Jilly’s constant demands to be told what was happening.

      ‘We’ll tell you at lunchtime. Now, get on with your work, Jilly.’ Mrs Grant sounded firm.

      Patients came and went; the morning was busy. Louisa drank a cooled cup of coffee and wondered if she should tell Felicity. She decided not to; she would be away for one night only and that twice a week. She hoped she would be welcome at the doctor’s house.

      She made a quick mental list of what she had better take in her overnight bag. Would she need her typewriter or computer? Surely he would have all that at his own practice? She supposed she would have to ask him. She dismissed these troublesome details from her head and picked up the phone; there were Sir James’s clinics and ward rounds to sort out at the various hospitals he visited.

      He left very shortly after the last patient had been seen. Dr Gifford had been with him for the entire morning and they came into the waiting room together. Sir James paused on his way out. ‘I need hardly remind you to say nothing of my destination. I have your promise?’

      They assured him of that willingly and wished him a good journey, and he said briskly, ‘Well, I shall see you all again shortly. I’m sure you will do all you can to make things easy for Dr Gifford and our patients.’

      The two men went then, and Louisa, nipping smartly to the window, watched them get into a discreet dark grey Bentley. Sir James drove a Rolls; this car must be Dr Gifford’s. Oh, well, thought Louisa, at least I shall travel in comfort.

      Jilly was all agog. ‘I say, I wonder who he’s going to see? Why is it all so hush-hush? I wish I knew …’

      Mrs Grant said sternly, ‘Jilly, you heard what Sir James said. Not a word to anyone. If you break your word he’ll have you sacked. He could, you know, for leaking important information.’

      ‘Really? You’re not joking?’ When Mrs Grant shook her head, Jilly said, ‘I won’t say a word—only if he tells you about it when he comes back you will tell me, won’t you?’

      ‘That’s a promise. And if I don’t know and Louisa does, then she’ll tell you, won’t you, Louisa?’

      ‘Cross my heart, I will. What time is the first patient coming? I wonder if Dr Gifford is coming back before then? I’ve still got to get hold of Mrs Goulder and ask her to come on Saturday morning. She won’t like that …’

      Half an hour before the afternoon patients were due to arrive, Dr Gifford came back. Louisa looked up as he passed her desk.

      ‘Will you bring your notebook with you, Miss Howarth? We have ten minutes to spare, I believe.’

      The look he gave her was indifferent, although his voice was pleasant. She followed him into the consulting room and sat down, pencil poised.

      ‘I should like to be sure that we fully understand this rather complicated routine we must follow until Sir James returns. I shall remain here until tomorrow midday. You will accompany me back to my own practice, stay the night so that we can work on the patients for the following day, and return with me late on Saturday morning. I must ask you to work during Saturday afternoon, but you will be free on Sunday.’

      Louisa said nothing; he was reiterating what she already knew. He went on, ‘I shall return here on Monday morning, stay until noon on Tuesday and return to my practice until Wednesday afternoon. I believe there are two patients for the early evening?’ And, when she nodded, he added, ‘I shall remain here until Friday noon, when we will return to my practice. We shall have the time then to sort out the patients for the following week. And I will see Sir James’s patients on Saturday afternoon.’

      There would be a lot of toing and froing, reflected Louisa, and, of course, the only way he could cope was to go over Sir James’s patients’ notes with her whenever he could spare the time. Hopefully it would only be for a short while. The whole thing had been unexpected and there had been no time to make a better arrangement.

      She said, ‘Very well, sir.’

      He nodded without looking up from the papers on the desk. ‘Now, these patients this afternoon. Is there anything special I should know about them?’

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