Surgeon at Arms

it.’
    ‘Nice of you to do so now,’ John said drily.
    ‘That Australian we got was all right as a stuffist, but the anaesthetist’s the stage-manager of the operating unit. With you, everything went so smoothly.’ The vague idea of staging a reconciliation with John, already in Graham’s mind before the dinner, now struck him as urgent. After all, he had a real affection for the man, they had been professional brothers-in-arms for the best part of thirty years. ‘How’s Denise?’ he asked.
    ‘She’s been a bit off colour, recently. Nothing definite. One of the physicians had a look at her. Trying to run a home these days is enough to get any woman down.’ Graham hesitated, and added, ‘If you’d like to get away, I’ve a villa you could borrow in the south of France. At Roquebrune, up above Monte Carlo.’
    John raised his eyebrows. ‘How on earth did you get the currency?’
    Graham laughed. ‘Oh, there are ways and means. I bought it a month ago—very reasonably, once I got hold of the francs. I don’t think one should take these restrictions too seriously. After all, there are so many of them, if we observed the letter of all the laws we wouldn’t be able to stray from our front-doors.’
    ‘It’s a very kind offer, Graham, but I don’t know when we’ll have a chance to take you up on it.’
    ‘I’ve hardly had a chance myself. I’m sending Sheila Raleigh down there next month—you know, Tom Raleigh’s widow. She needs a holiday. I’ve given her the job of secretary to this Annex Club. There’s an awful lot of work to do, quite a lot of money in the kitty. It’s a way for me to make amends. If I have any amends to make.’ Graham finished his drink: ‘It was sad about Tom. It shook me badly at the time. Too much so, perhaps. I felt somehow I was responsible. But how could I have been? I must have been feeling oversensitive in those days. Anyway, Sheila’s getting married again this summer, some fellow out of the Navy. Do you want another drink?’
    ‘No, I must get home, I’m afraid.’ John rose. ‘I promised Denise I wouldn’t arrive back in too alarming a condition.’
    ‘I’ll walk. We’re not far away, across the Park.’
    ‘John, I wonder if you’d like to take over my anaesthetic work again?’
    John paused, getting into his overcoat. This will prove, Graham thought, if he holds everything against me still.
    ‘It’s good of you, Graham, but I’m afraid my time for private work is absolutely booked.’
    ‘Too bad,’ murmured Graham.
    He does hold it against me, Graham told himself. And quite badly. Probably Denise is behind it.
    ‘Perhaps when things become more organized we can team up again?’ Graham suggested vaguely.
    ‘Yes, perhaps we can,’ said John.
    Graham closed the door behind his guest. He stood alone in the middle of the room. Something was disturbing him. He looked round, then sprang towards the mantelpiece and seized the ornamental clock. He looked at it foolishly for a moment, and carried it out to the kitchen. He had let it run down, and the woman who cleaned the flat must have rewound it. He hated clocks. Tick tock, tick tock. Every one a click along the rächet towards extinction. Such thoughts came upon him often now that he lived alone. He sat down heavily in the armchair, telling himself he was really becoming dreadfully neurotic. Perhaps it was all to do with the symptoms of the male menopause.
     

CHAPTER NINETEEN
     
    THE PARTY was in Grosvenor Square, in a block of flats occupied mainly by Americans left over from the war, the only class of people in the country who could afford the rent. Lord Cazalay occupied the penthouse which covered most of the top floor. Graham admitted that his brother-in-law seemed to be making a success of his life. Despite the currency restrictions, the travel business appeared to be prospering, and he claimed to have his fingers in all manner of tasty pies. He always treated Graham with the warmest affability. Graham did not deceive himself this was through fraternal love, or remorse for past malevolence. Sir Graham Trevose was a useful name to keep around him. Graham didn’t object overmuch. If you wanted such things as whisky, beefsteaks, suit lengths, or villas on the Riviera, you couldn’t be squeamish over the company you kept.
    ‘Graham, I’m delighted you could come.’ Lord Cazalay pushed his way through the noisy crowd of guests. ‘I hope you got over that dinner last night. I read about