Read Online George Barnabas - 04 - Fourth Attempt by Claire Rayner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Claire Rayner
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blockers in the alleviation of chronic pain in one of the journals recently …’ And he began to talk earnestly about the article, as though, George found herself thinking in some amusement, he’d learned it by heart in order to impress his superiors. He was after all a very junior gasman, which would account for some of his tension as he talked to her. She sometimes forgot how intimidating a junior could find a consultant, even one as relaxed and as easy to talk to as she knew herself to be. It was rare that she stood on her dignity or reminded anyone of her status; but he was new of course and wouldn’t really know that.
She went to some pains now to make him more comfortable. She questioned him on the research he was talking about and though he seemed able to do little more than quote the article he’d read back at her, he was clearly interested. So she shifted her tack; got down to talking personalities. Might make him more comfortable, she thought.
‘How do you get on with the rest of your firm?’ she asked. ‘They seem a pleasant crew.’ It was a clear invitation to gossip.
He didn’t accept it. ‘Oh, everyone’s very nice,’ he said a touch woodenly. ‘Most helpful.’
‘Good.’ She smiled brightly. ‘And the surgeons, too? I’ve heard that Le Queux can be a right bastard in the theatre.’ It was what some of her stiffer colleagues would label a ‘poor show’, she knew, to encourage junior staff to speak slightingly of their seniors, but why shouldn’t they? Everyone else did. ‘And Mayer-France.’
Corton primmed his lips a little. ‘They’re fine,’ he said, looking down at his plate. He’d eaten very little of his schoolboy lunch, she noted, and bent her own head to eat in order to encourage him. This was really getting to be more than a little effortful, she thought a touch irritably. Damn Zack Zacharius! And knowing that it was unfair to blame him for her present situation didn’t make her feel any better.
‘I — er — don’t work much with the consultants,’ Cortonsaid then, seeming aware of her irritation. ‘I mean, Miss Dannay does most of their lists so I hardly know them. I usually look after the registrars’ lists and, of course, routine obstetrics. And Dr Zacharius and stuff like that.’
She lifted her head, a forkful of cole-slaw arrested halfway to her mouth. ‘Oh?’
He seemed to relax a little at her interest. ‘Mmm. They won’t let me do the really complicated stuff for a while yet, will they? I’d like to work on cardiological anaesthetics really. It was because of — of my father, who had a cardiac condition, that — well, anyway, he wanted me to go into medicine and anaesthetics seemed — and then of course when he had to have his operation and he died they said it was as much the anaesthetic as the surgery that — so I thought then I’d like to learn cardiac anaesthesia.’
‘I’m sorry to hear of your father,’ she said after a moment. ‘It’s often the case that it’s a family experience that shapes up your own view of your career.’
She remembered with sudden painful clarity her own mother, oblivious of who she was or why she was and probably even where she was, over there at home three thousand miles away in Buffalo, in the care of her old friend Bridget Connor, and wanted to weep. Her Alzheimer’s disease had never made George want to work with the demented, but it certainly made her interested in the condition.
She reached across the table now and touched Corton’s hand. ‘It’s not unusual. I’m sure you’ll get there, with such an — example.’
He flashed a smile at her, which made him look even younger, if that were possible. ‘Thanks. But it’ll take a long time for me to be able to do that. So much to learn.’ He slid into silence and she returned to her own plate. After a while she spoke with studied casualness.
‘So you do obstetrics and — who else was it, Dr Zacharius? But I thought he was a researcher? How
She went to some pains now to make him more comfortable. She questioned him on the research he was talking about and though he seemed able to do little more than quote the article he’d read back at her, he was clearly interested. So she shifted her tack; got down to talking personalities. Might make him more comfortable, she thought.
‘How do you get on with the rest of your firm?’ she asked. ‘They seem a pleasant crew.’ It was a clear invitation to gossip.
He didn’t accept it. ‘Oh, everyone’s very nice,’ he said a touch woodenly. ‘Most helpful.’
‘Good.’ She smiled brightly. ‘And the surgeons, too? I’ve heard that Le Queux can be a right bastard in the theatre.’ It was what some of her stiffer colleagues would label a ‘poor show’, she knew, to encourage junior staff to speak slightingly of their seniors, but why shouldn’t they? Everyone else did. ‘And Mayer-France.’
Corton primmed his lips a little. ‘They’re fine,’ he said, looking down at his plate. He’d eaten very little of his schoolboy lunch, she noted, and bent her own head to eat in order to encourage him. This was really getting to be more than a little effortful, she thought a touch irritably. Damn Zack Zacharius! And knowing that it was unfair to blame him for her present situation didn’t make her feel any better.
‘I — er — don’t work much with the consultants,’ Cortonsaid then, seeming aware of her irritation. ‘I mean, Miss Dannay does most of their lists so I hardly know them. I usually look after the registrars’ lists and, of course, routine obstetrics. And Dr Zacharius and stuff like that.’
She lifted her head, a forkful of cole-slaw arrested halfway to her mouth. ‘Oh?’
He seemed to relax a little at her interest. ‘Mmm. They won’t let me do the really complicated stuff for a while yet, will they? I’d like to work on cardiological anaesthetics really. It was because of — of my father, who had a cardiac condition, that — well, anyway, he wanted me to go into medicine and anaesthetics seemed — and then of course when he had to have his operation and he died they said it was as much the anaesthetic as the surgery that — so I thought then I’d like to learn cardiac anaesthesia.’
‘I’m sorry to hear of your father,’ she said after a moment. ‘It’s often the case that it’s a family experience that shapes up your own view of your career.’
She remembered with sudden painful clarity her own mother, oblivious of who she was or why she was and probably even where she was, over there at home three thousand miles away in Buffalo, in the care of her old friend Bridget Connor, and wanted to weep. Her Alzheimer’s disease had never made George want to work with the demented, but it certainly made her interested in the condition.
She reached across the table now and touched Corton’s hand. ‘It’s not unusual. I’m sure you’ll get there, with such an — example.’
He flashed a smile at her, which made him look even younger, if that were possible. ‘Thanks. But it’ll take a long time for me to be able to do that. So much to learn.’ He slid into silence and she returned to her own plate. After a while she spoke with studied casualness.
‘So you do obstetrics and — who else was it, Dr Zacharius? But I thought he was a researcher? How
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