Page 20

The woman hesitates a moment before widening the door. ‘The Englishman,’ she says, and though Mair speaks in Welsh there can be no mistaking her accusing tone. No indeed, her companion has marked it well, for Dr Talbot stands taller, tips his hat.

‘Good morning, ma’am.’

Mair’s lips purse, prune-like. She shoots Linette a look that says without any doubt that she fiercely disapproves.

‘It’s all right,’ Linette says again. ‘Please, let him try. I’ve done for Tomas all I can.’

Mair hesitates. It seems she might refuse, but then there is a cough from within and something sharpens in Dr Talbot’s face. He pushes past both of them into the low-ceilinged house, follows the sound to Tomas’ small, cramped bedroom at the back of the cottage.

‘Miss,’ Mair begins, looking put out. ‘I do not like it. Ivor says he’s not fit for a country doctor. How can he know our ways?’

‘Maybe that’s the point,’ Linette replies, closing the door behind her. ‘We’ve tried a country doctor as well as the old remedies, and they have not worked. Perhaps it’s time we try something else?’

Mair’s watery eyes watch her a moment. Then the woman sighs, gestures for Linette to follow.

Dr Talbot already has Tomas sitting up in the narrow bed, the palm of his hand on his forehead, his other hand flat between the young man’s shoulder blades. Tomas, Linette notes with concern, is more florid than the previous evening, a sheen of perspiration spotting his skin like dew. The young doctor looks up as Linette enters, indicates to Tomas with a nod.

‘How long has he been like this?’

Tomas is looking at Linette above the crown of Dr Talbot’s head, apprehension clear in his wide eyes. Many years ago they used to play together. Once, in the throes of adolescent fancy, she thought herself in love with him. But then age and duty interfered, adoration shifted to friendship and, finally, to polite affection. Linette feels the dull ache of sadness pull at her chest. The villagers are like family to her, she told the new doctor. Not quite then, not really. She is no closer to them than her own mother, but at least she might speak to them and be heard, understood. Liked.

At least she has that.

‘Three weeks ago,’ Linette replies now, ‘though it’s only this week he’s got worse. Fever, sweats. He’s been vomiting …’

‘Vomiting?’

Linette points at the small basin next to the bed and the physician stares down at the bilious material swimming in it. He puts two fingers to Tomas’ wrist, extracts a silver-chained watch from his pocket, silently counts. Then, after a moment, he reaches into his medical bag open at the side of the bed. From within the doctor removes a sheet of paper. Linette expects him to take a pencil from the bag too but instead he does something she has never seen a doctor do before – not Dr Evans, nor Dr Beddoe, not any of the others she has been acquainted with over the years: Henry Talbot rolls the paper into a tube and puts it between his ear and Tomas’ chest.

Beside her Mair unfolds her bony arms.

‘What is he doing?’ she murmurs, and all Linette can do is open her mouth and close it again. The doctor keeps his position for a full minute before raising his head.

‘Will you come here?’ he says, beckoning Linette to sit on the other side of the bed. When she does he turns to Tomas, a kind smile on his face. Tomas – who has not yet said one word and looks for all the world like a terrified hare – snaps his eyes to Linette in alarm.

‘Do you feel any pain?’

Dr Talbot says the words slowly, with a gentle intonation meant only for Tomas, but Linette deduces she is to act as interpreter. When she asks him the same, he gives a hesitant nod of the head.

‘Where?’ The doctor begins to pat his hand on his own head, his arm, his ribs. ‘Show me,’ he says, and Tomas – evidently understanding – presses his own hand to his left side.

‘And does it hurt to breathe?’

Linette translates.

‘Ydy.’

‘Yes,’ she returns.

‘When you lie down? When you sit up?’

Tomas thinks a moment.

‘I can breathe better upright. It’s painful when I lie on my good side, easier when I lie on the side that hurts.’

‘When you breathe in, does it feel sharp?’ Dr Talbot himself breathes deep, makes a stabbing motion in the air with his finger. Immediately, Tomas nods.

The physician looks up. ‘Did this Dr Beddoe come to him?’