The Ladies' Midnight Swimming Club(16)

‘You were lucky there. I remember Alice from school and she was lovely,’ Lucy said warmly. ‘And she only does reception?’

‘Well, yes, of course. What else?’

‘Oh, no, I just wondered…Surely for a registered nurse, there would be opportunity to use her skills to save on time for the doctor on duty?’ It was an offhand remark, but so thoroughly sensible that it sounded as if a decision had already been made.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Elizabeth said evenly; not that it mattered now, because suddenly, it was obvious that this couldn’t really be a surgery for much longer. Even the examination table in Eric’s office was being held together with a couple of nails and an elastic bandage.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ Lucy murmured. She had walked back behind Eric’s desk now and was looking at his old medical bag. ‘That’s such a lovely piece of history, really, isn’t it?’ she said softly and it occurred to Elizabeth that perhaps they were seeing the place very differently. Whereas, all Elizabeth could see was how forlorn and antiquated everything was compared with the surely bright and modern hospital Lucy was accustomed to, Lucy was seeing the place with the rose-tinted view of pastoral nostalgia. ‘You’d have to wonder, how many people have been made well as a result of the contents of this bag, wouldn’t you?’ she said, holding it up now and tracing her hand along the soft leather and the blackened, dull clasp lock.

‘It was a gift, from Eric’s mother when he graduated from medical school. I’m not sure it was new, even then,’ Elizabeth said a little fondly. ‘He’s hardly used it these last few years. He hated doing house calls. I suppose, the only people he’s actually gone out to are… well, people who couldn’t possibly come in.’ That was the truth; you had to be literally on death’s door before he’d make an appearance. So, his house calls the last couple of years had been predictable. They were to the dying or the already dead, if he was running late.

‘I suppose, one man, on his own, it’s hard to get to everyone.’ Lucy shrugged, too young yet to be dragged down by the fact that eventually, as Eric had said once, everyone dies, regardless of what you do. Elizabeth shivered.

‘It’s cold in here; we should probably go back upstairs.’ Elizabeth knew the cold had little to do with the temperature of the place and everything to do with the realisation that her options had drastically narrowed. She couldn’t ask this young woman to pin her future to a sinking ship. That would be unforgivable. She wasn’t even sure, when all was said and done, that Eric had been making enough wages to pay a doctor and clear off his debts – wasn’t that probably the reason he’d buried his head in the sand at the end?

She made for the door, assuming that Lucy was following behind. She was almost at the stairs when she realised that she was alone. She stood for a moment, feeling as if she was about to fall from a precipice into the unknown. She would have to think of another way to sort out Eric’s gambling debts. She was quite sure that employing a doctor to take over the surgery was not going to be the answer. It was a funny thing, but all these years, she’d believed them to be well off; not just because she hadn’t realised they were in debt far over their heads and not because she’d been blithely unaware of her husband’s gambling habit. Rather, she’d thought that they were financially comfortable because her husband was a GP. It was a good job, a career that had income flowing into their home on a daily basis, but what if she’d been wrong?

Looking at the surgery now, with the fresh eyes of an outsider, she could see it was in a shambles. All of it. Everything about the life she’d believed they were living, it was all a shoddy, ill-constructed mess and now, she was faced with finding a way to move forward and make some kind of future from its ashes.

‘You’re not ready for this, yet, are you?’ Lucy said softly then at her back.

‘No, I don’t suppose I am, really,’ Elizabeth answered, but she pushed through the door and walked back into the kitchen where, only such a short time earlier, it had seemed as if the future ahead could yet be a little brighter than the past.

‘It’s a lot.’ Lucy shook her head. ‘A big responsibility, to feel that if you don’t keep this place running, there is no other local doctor to take over...’

‘You’re very kind, but it’s not just that.’

‘I know, you’ve lost your husband. I can’t imagine what that’s like, after so many years of marriage. Death – it’s so… final.’ She broke off, because of course; they both saw the other woman’s situation as somehow worse. ‘But, you know, if there is no surgery here, people will find another doctor and I’m sure, given a month or two, you’ll probably manage to source a young doctor eager to take over,’ Lucy was saying now, but they both knew, the words were only being said to smooth over the emptiness of everything.

‘Oh, look, don’t worry; you don’t have to try to make me feel better. The truth is I’m not as honourable as you might think.’ Elizabeth felt the tears now. There was no holding them back anymore, but Lucy Nolan had been candid with her, the least she could do was offer the same in return. ‘The truth is… my husband was not only a drinker, it turns out he was a gambler too.’ She sighed. ‘He was a really bad gambler, the sort who loses far more than he wins and perhaps the sort who just didn’t know when to stop.’