Surgeon at Arms

chocolates. Graham seemed to have climbed back on to the lap of luxury.
    ‘I suppose I’m allowed to switch on the electric fire?’ Graham removed his overcoat. ‘I can never remember what the permitted hours are.’
    ‘Don’t they just cut your current off?’
    Graham grinned. ‘I’m on the same cable as the Welbeck Hospital, so I’m spared.’
    ‘You always did have all the luck.’ As Graham poured him a drink, John added, ‘It was quite a party tonight.’
    ‘It’s good to find the boys enjoying themselves. Though I could see that Tudor Beverley’s got a deal of work to do on some of them. But at least it’s a club where we can feel glad the membership won’t be increasing.’
    ‘It was good of you to ask me along.’
    Graham looked surprised. ‘But of course you had to be there. We couldn’t do without “The Gasman”, surely?’
    ‘ “The Gasman”, if you’ll recall, Graham, was requested not to call.’
    Graham gave a short laugh. ‘The famous Trevose temperament. Do you still hold it against me? I was upset at the time, all sorts of things were pressing on me. After all, they were trying to get rid of me, and damn near succeeded.’ They took the comfortable armchairs on each side of the fire. The three bars gave a welcome glow. The central heating was off, and the block of flats as inhospitable as an iceberg. ‘I know I’ve been a bastard often enough in my life,’ Graham continued. ‘As you get older you begin to see yourself properly. It was my temperament which wrecked our partnership. It wrecked my partnership with Tom Raleigh. It wrecked a lot of other relationships in my life. But I couldn’t help it. If I’d managed psychologically to emasculate myself, I’d have had no drive to achieve anything at all.’
    Graham sipped his drink in silence. The reference to tempestuous partnerships set John wondering about his host’s present arrangements for sexual relaxation. He generally had some of a sort, though John had picked up no gossip round the nursing-homes of the West End. He wondered if the fellow were getting past it. By way of a probe, he asked, ‘Do you live in this palace all alone?’ Graham nodded. ‘It’s too big, but I had to take what I could. The squatters were in downstairs, you know.’
    ‘You were lucky to get your hands on it.’
    ‘London’s a peculiar place just now. Everyone knows someone who can obtain the unobtainable. This austerity’s a bore, isn’t it? I certainly didn’t expect it after the war. I thought everything would more or less click back into place again. I must have been mad.’
    ‘You weren’t the only one. The Tory party suffered the same insanity.’
    ‘I suppose I’m amusing myself. Though the people you meet are peculiar. Not at all like before the war. I wonder what happened to them all.’
    ‘Haven’t they gone to Kenya and Rhodesia and such places?’
    ‘I’d rather put up with things here. I’m not doing badly, you know,’ Graham told him defiantly. ‘The plastic game’s as tough as ever, if not tougher. But I’m well and truly inside the magic circle now.’ He smiled. ‘The new handle helps, I suppose, “Sir Graham” and all that. The outsiders have a thin time of it, trying to break in. I’m certainly not going to help them. I suffered enough myself, and nobody was inclined to give me a leg-up.’
    ‘Aren’t you afraid of what Bevan’s going to do?’
    ‘Not really. The scheme won’t touch us consultants much. We might even be better off—after all, we’ll get paid for the work we do free in hospital. The g.p.s will get the dirty end of the stick, and that’s too bad. The B.M.A. have spotted that, of course, that’s why they’re kicking up such a shindy. They’re the g.p.s’ trade union. The Royal Colleges, who represent people like me, are coming round to Bevan’s line of thinking. The letter from the three presidents last month certainly seemed to indicate something like that. You see, Bevan’s split the profession. Cunning blighter. I rather admire the man. If I’d gone into politics, which God forbid, I should have modelled myself on him. He knows what he wants, and can be perfectly charming as he invariably gets it. How are you doing, John?’
    ‘Very busy. I’ve Smithers Botham, the Cavendish Clinic, half a dozen hospitals scattered round London. I’d almost forgotten I was on the staff of half of them.’
    ‘I missed you badly at the annex, I don’t mind admitting