The Summer of Sir Lancelot

look the nervous type.‘
    ‘He‘s gorn.‘
    ‘Gorn?‘
    Mrs Bowler nodded, turning to the Lady at the Virginals. ‘Rushed out at seven this morning, fair jet propelled.‘
    ‘You don‘t mean he‘s in trouble, Mrs Bowler?‘
    ‘Nothing but trouble, if you ask me.‘
    Mrs Perrins pursed her lips. To the public there is only one sort of trouble that doctors get into. She rapidly ran through her mind all female acquaintances who were fellow-patients.
    ‘He‘s gone and got a locum in,‘ continued the housekeeper, starting on The Night Watch. ‘A Dr Spratt.‘
    ‘Really?‘ Mrs Perrins sat up. ‘What‘s he like?‘
    Mrs Bowler picked up the Bridge at Arles. ‘He wanted kidneys for breakfast,‘ she explained.
    ‘I mean, is he an old doctor?‘ asked Mrs Perrins. ‘Or is he an — er, young one? Gregory, stop that kicking this instant! You‘ll hurt your shoes. He‘s English, I hope,‘ she added nervously.
    ‘He‘s old and fat with a dirty great beard,‘ replied Mrs Bowler, pocketing her duster as the door-bell rang.
    Sir Lancelot was just coming downstairs, rubbing his hands. He was in an excellent mood, despite cornflakes for breakfast. ‘This should be a proper holiday for me,‘ he assured himself. ‘If I had my time over again, by George! I‘d be a GP like a shot. That‘s where the real medicine is. Mrs Bowler, send the first patient into the surgery, if you please,‘ he added to his handmaiden.
    His back that morning was splendid.
    ‘You‘re Mrs Perrins?‘ Sir Lancelot greeted his first caller jovially, picking up a record card and pushing a pair of Dr Dinwiddie‘s socks from the consulting desk. ‘And this charming lad is yours? What‘s your name, my little man? Gregory? Right, sit down there, Gregory, and keep quiet. Now, madam,‘ he continued expansively as she eased herself into the patients‘ chair, ‘what‘s the trouble?‘
    Mrs Perrins didn‘t like the look of the fat old man in the tweed suit. She wondered where Dr Dinwiddie had dug him up. But as an old customer of the firm, she‘d stand no nonsense from anyone fresh across the counter. Opening her handbag, she produced a sheet of writing paper.
    ‘First of all there‘s my list,‘ she began firmly.
    Sir Lancelot frowned. ‘You mean you are walking down on one side?‘
    ‘I want some cotton wool, of course, bottle of aspirin, cream for my poor hands, tinted lip salve, blackcurrant throat pastilles — Gregory so loves sucking them - liquid paraffin, surgical spirit, bottle ot sparkling glucose drink, that surgical detergent, and my usual mixture.‘
    Sir Lancelot frowned harder. ‘I don‘t think I quite follow you.‘
    ‘I want a prescription for them, of course,‘ she explained to the new man. ‘And can I get a hot-water bottle on the Health as well?‘
    Sir Lancelot rose. ‘I fear you have been misdirected. I noticed the cash chemist‘s on the far side of the railway station. Good morning. Mrs Bowler! The next case.‘
    ‘But I always have these!‘ exclaimed Mrs Perrins in surprise. ‘I‘m entitled to them. I‘ve stuck on my stamps, the same as everyone else.‘
    ‘I fear you are confusing the Ministry of Health with the King Korn Company.‘
    She bit her lip. ‘Anyway, there‘s my chest,‘ she retreated. It wasn‘t her idea of a consultation to leave empty-handed.
    ‘Very well,‘ Sir Lancelot agreed. ‘Remove your garments and I shall examine you.‘
    ‘Examine me!‘ This was too much. ‘But I don‘t want my chest examined. I was examined thoroughly the winter before last. I only want some more medicine.‘
    ‘Either I examine your chest or you take it to another doctor. Mrs Bowler!‘
    ‘Yers?‘
    ‘Kindly step in while I examine a female patient.‘
    ‘I‘ve got my dusting to think of.‘
    ‘And I‘ve got my reputation to think of. Gregory, you will kindly shut your eyes and face the wall.‘
    ‘Now perhaps I can have my bottle of medicine,‘ Mrs Perrins asked grimly, doing up the last buttons of her blouse afterwards.
    ‘But, madam, you do not require a bottle of medicine. You need a skipping rope.‘
    She looked blank.
    ‘You are grossly overweight, that is all. You must eat only one meal a day and skip for half an hour before and after. I much regret that the rope must be provided by Woolworth‘s rather than the Government. Good morning.‘
    ‘I‘ve never been treated like this in my life, neither by a so-called doctor nor anyone else,‘ she burst out indignantly.