Surgeon at Arms

innocent merriment. ‘And what gives rise to this little suspicion?’
    ‘She’s a fortnight overdue. She’s always been as regular as clockwork before. Of course, it might be a chill, something like that, mightn’t it?’
    ‘Sitting on a damp park bench, doctor?’ Mr O’Rory chuckled. ‘Maybe so.’
    ‘You don’t think that’s a possibility?’
    ‘You know my low mind, Graham. Any woman outside a nunnery, who misses a period between the ages of fifteen and fifty, must be assumed pregnant until proved otherwise. And I’m not so sure about the nunnery these days, either.’
    Graham was in no mood for professional pleasantries. ‘Can you do a test in the lab?’ he asked irritatedly.
    ‘I will certainly invoke the assistance of a small frog, Graham, if you want. I’ll be needing a specimen of the lady’s urine.’
    ‘I’ve got one in the car.’
    ‘But don’t get too alarmed,’ Mr O’Rory added amiably. ‘The lady may have made a mistake in her dates. It’s remarkable how unreliable the feminine gender is at its fundamental calculations.’
    The telephone at Cosy Cot rang the following evening ‘That was Tim,’ said Graham, putting down the receiver. ‘It’s on.’
    Clare turned her eyes back to her sewing. Graham stuck his hands in his pockets and stood in the middle of the small sitting-room, which was filled with books, medical journals, files of notes, photographs of his patients, and had a coloured picture of Bubbles over the fireplace.
    ‘It’s wonderful news, isn’t it?’ he declared.
    She looked up again. ‘Are you sure you want it?’
    ‘But of course I do! As long as you do?’
    ‘More than anything.’
    Graham perched on the edge of her chair and put his arm round her tightly. So, he thought, one of my wriggling little spermatozoa has threshed with its hair-like tail across the black mucoid depths of Clare’s pelvis, to sink itself joyfully into the speck of jelly comprising her ovum. The stark object of the most fashionable wedding, with all its elaborate trimmings of an ecclesiastical, legal, floral, and emotional nature, had been simply achieved. No trouble at all. The human race really did surround itself with a lot of fuss over its reproduction. Clare wondered what he was going to say. At least he’d declared he wanted the child, she thought. She didn’t dare to question whether he really meant it. Living with Graham, she rarely dared to question whether he really meant anything.
    ‘There’ll be a terrible lot of practical details to settle,’ Graham announced.
    He immediately threw himself vigorously into solving the varied problems set by the new pregnancy. He decided Clare must leave the annex at once. Staff-nurse Jones could enjoy unexpected promotion, he must find someone to succeed the girl as staff-nurse. Appointments must be made with Mr O’Rory. Specimens must be collected. A woman must be sought to help in the bungalow. They would go away for the holiday in Wales, it would do Clare good. Her ration-book must be exchanged at the Food Office for a pregnant woman’s green one. Extra milk and vitamins must be applied for, with a dozen Government forms. Pregnancy struck Graham as a highly complicated item of official business. It had been so much simpler last time. Which reminded him, he really must do something about Maria.
    Graham had been meaning to do something about Maria for over a year. But there had always seemed a last-minute snag. Whenever he steeled himself to start instructing his lawyers there was somehow a rush of work in the annex, keeping his mind occupied for weeks. The solicitors had anyway been bombed out of the City, and re-established themselves at some inaccessible address near Southend-on-Sea. There seemed then no urgency. Clare appeared perfectly content with their arrangement. Graham couldn’t see how ten minutes in a registry office would make the slightest difference to the pair of them. Or perhaps, he sometimes suspected, he still had his lingering reluctance about disowning Maria for good. Or perhaps... perhaps he was afraid of committing himself wholly to Clare? It was too difficult to think about, and the problems of the annex came first. Clare certainly raised the topic of a divorce. He felt it only to be expected, but she never harped on it for long. It never occurred to Graham that she saw how much it distressed him, nor that her silence was the expression of her terror of losing him.
    But now the solicitors were