Page 11 of A Midlife Marriage

‘It’s my daughter, she has this rash …’

‘I’ve had this cough for three weeks now …’

‘I think it’s piles, I’m walking like I’ve shit my pants. Excuse my language …’

‘Next.’As the morning wore on, so did Helen’s voice, and by the time she looked up to see a small, neatly dressed woman, it was barelymore than a bleat. ‘How can I help you?’ she croaked.

‘I really don’t want to bother you …’

It wasn’t just the polite tone, that sent a shiver down her spine. Plenty of patients were politeandtimewasters. No, it was the terror in the woman’s eyes, the panic that Helen could see had made a rag doll of her. She watched as the woman put her hand out to the desk, gripping it likeit was the last solid thing in the world. ‘It’s my husband,’ she whispered. ‘I’m really concerned. Could you …’ Her arm wavered as she raised it to point toward the waiting room. ‘I did ask if we could be seen earlier.’

‘You have an appointment?’

‘At twelve forty.’

Helen glanced at the clock. ‘That’s another twenty minutes.’ Turning back, her eyes narrowed. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘An hour and a half. I didn’t want to wait at home. I thought if we came in there’d be a chance to get seen earlier, but the girl said no and he’s only getting worse.’

‘OK.’ And hurrying out from behind the reception desk, she followed the woman into a waiting room that was noisy and full. As it always was. A waiting room where, despite the huge sign on the wall that read,Please your phone considerately,she counted at least three people, using their phones inconsiderately: talking blithely, talking loudly, talkingas if they were in the privacy of their own homes. Scowling, stepping over a pile of Lego bricks that no-one had bothered to return, she headed straight for what was obviously the sickest patient in the room.A heavily built man whodespite the heat of the afternoon, shivereduncontrollably. He had fallen into a hunched position, his skin white as satin, shiny with sweat, his breathing shallow and ragged. ‘Was he like this when you arrived?’ She bent low, her hand on the man’s shoulder. He was freezing.

The woman nodded.

Helen pressed her lips together. Having spent the first part of the morning answering the phones, she hadn’t seen this patient arrive. If she had, she wouldn’t have dismissed him to the waiting room, she’d have called one of the doctors. It wasclear he was very sick. Who, and she was thinking fast, had been on the desk this morning? ‘Are you in pain?’ she said.

Hemanaged a nod. ‘Where am I?’

‘OK.’ Helen straightened up, no doubt now about the urgency of the situation. ‘I’ll be right back.’

The first doorshe knocked at was Dr Ross’s. She didn’t wait for an answer, before opening it and sticking her head in. ‘We have an emergency,’ she said. And then Dr Ross was on her feet and a minute later she was eye to eye with the patient, removing her glasses, examining him, standing again and moving Helen just far enough away, so Helen felt she could whisper, ‘Sepsis?’ without the either the man or his wife overhearing.

Dr Ross nodded. ’I’m going to call an ambulance. Can you print off an encounter report?’

‘Of course.’

‘An ambulance?’ the woman said, her face draining of colour.

‘Try not to worry,’ Helen hurried back across the waiting room. As she reached the door she turned back. ‘Can I have your attention please?’ she called to the dozen or so heads that had looked up. ‘There is a phonespolicy in here. Please observe it!’ And she raised an arm stiff with anger to point at the sign.

10

The bin in the corner of Kay’s classroom overflowed with photocopies, and the walls were bare. She’d taken down her maths jokes poster (Why was the equal sign so humble? Because it knew it wasn’t greater than anyone else), and her Shakuntala Devi quote: “Without mathematics, there’s nothing you can do.” Whoever came in next would replace them with their own jokes and quotes (she hoped). In a classroom fast becoming unfamiliar, only the whiteboard still showed the evidence of who she had been. There it was, her very last equation, written in patchy marker, lingering on now like hieroglyphics in a buried tomb.

3 (2) +4 2 =c2

9 + 16 =c square

25 =c square

c= 5

9 + 16=c2

25 =c2

c= 5

In a burst of energy,she took the eraser and wiped the equation clean, then she popped the lid off the marker-pen and wrote out more numbers, the ink squeaking its resistance as she scribbled.

---