Read Online Doctor On Toast by Richard Gordon - Free Book Online Page B

here?’
    I bowed and kissed her hand.
    ‘Your humble shipmate.’
    ‘But you aren’t a sailor!’
    ‘Yes I am,’ I corrected her. ‘At the moment, just as much as Nelson or old Father Noah himself. I’m the official ship’s doctor.’
    She stared at me.
    ‘But – but for God’s sake why ?’
    ‘Ophelia my sweet,’ I explained simply. ‘For you.’
    ‘For me? What on earth do you mean, for me? How can you possibly–’
    I kissed her hand again.
    ‘For you,’ I repeated, ‘have I adopted the rough and uncertain calling of a seafarer–’
    ‘You must be crazy!’
    ‘No, no, Ophelia!’ I started edging her towards the sofa. ‘It’s not crazy at all. Just think, for three blissful weeks you and I will be absolutely alone – apart from the other passengers of course.’
    I had another go at her hand.
    ‘By then, my dear old girl,’ I went on, warming a bit, ‘in the intimacy of shipboard life you will have grown to know me better. You may perhaps have grown to know me well enough to understand the terrible yearning–’
    ‘Where are the cigarettes, darling?’ asked Ophelia, recovering herself.
    ‘Oh, sorry. Over here.’
    She sat down on the sofa.
    ‘I wish you’d sent me a postcard or something first, darling.’
    ‘But I wanted it to be a nice surprise.’
    ‘It was certainly all of that,’ she agreed.
    I offered the duty-free cigarette tin.
    ‘I hope you liked the flowers I sent to your cabin?’
    ‘Which ones were they, darling? The ship’s like a floating Kew Gardens.’
    ‘Ophelia–’ I flicked my lighter.
    ‘Yes, darling?’
    ‘Ophelia, I… I hope you don’t mind my coming along for the ride?’
    ‘I don’t mind what you do, Gaston. If you want to go about dressed like a bus conductor, that’s your affair.’
    That was a bit irking. I’d hoped to cut a modest dash, what with all those brass buttons.
    ‘But Ophelia!’ I protested. ‘You yourself said what terrific fun it would be if only I could make the trip.’
    ‘Did I, darling?’
    ‘Of course you did. With the early morning dips and the ping pong and the shuffle-board. Surely you remember?’
    ‘A pretty palatial cabin you’ve got here, I must say,’ observed Ophelia, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
    ‘Not bad, is it? Nice and handy for the first-class swimming pool and the Veranda Bar.’
    ‘The stinking little slot they’ve given me down below isn’t big enough to swing the ship’s cat in.’
    I patted her hand. ‘I’ll get it changed,’ I told her. ‘Pretty important chap on board, the ship’s doctor, you know. In fact, anything you should happen to want during the voyage–’ I edged a bit up the sofa. ‘Anything at all, you’ve only got to ask old Uncle Grimsdyke, who is ever at your devoted–’
    ‘What’s the other door with the red cross on it?’
    ‘That? That’s the hospital.’
    ‘What an extraordinary thing to have on a ship! May I see?’
    ‘Of course,’ I replied politely, though preferring to continue the conversation on the sofa. ‘All very neatly arranged, don’t you think?’ I added, opening the door.
    ‘What’s that heap of old iron doing in the corner?’
    ‘That’s the fully collapsible operating table.’
    ‘How gruesome!’
    ‘Oh yes, you can have your stomach out on board if you want to,’ I explained. ‘The Company spares no expense over the passengers’ amenities.’
    Ophelia gave a shiver.
    ‘I was invited here for a drink, wasn’t I?’
    ‘I say, I’m frightfully sorry. All the stewards are at sixes and sevens stowing away the passengers, and my chap hasn’t shown up yet. I’ll give the fellow a buzz.’
    ‘What on earth are these? Nut crackers for coconuts?’
    ‘They’re obstetrical forceps.’
    ‘What awful things you have round you! I’d no idea you were that sort of doctor at all.’
    Ophelia then got interested in the amputation set, so I left her fiddling with the muscle scalpel and rang the bell in my cabin.
    ‘Ah, Steward,’ I said,