Chapter 38

"Where's the patient?" One of the paramedics asked unnecessarily, as it should have been a clue that there was a man lying on a floor with a tiny tube sticking out of big white bandages.

Just when he had uttered the question, his eyes fixed upon the person in trouble. Martin, thoughtful as ever, had already got up to make space for the paramedics to do their job.

"Oh, goody." One of the paramedics said, arms akimbo. "John, look at this beauty." He nodded over his shoulder to his colleague, who was trailing behind. "Some comedian has watched too many episodes of 'House'. Now he thinks he's SuperDoc, saving the world from pestilence and taxes. Let's see how much damage he had done. I hope he didn't push this thing – look, it seems to be a biro, brilliant idea – in this poor man because of a sore throat or something."

While 'John' knelt down to have a look at the patient, the big mouth turned towards the crowd.

"So who is the clown responsible for this butchering?"

I was about to lose my patience and was on the verge of jumping to Martin's defence, when the man himself quietly stepped forward. With squared shoulders, straightened up to his full imposing height, he stepped towards his accusant.

"That was me." He calmly said, but his eyes were glowering menacingly. "Dr. Ellingham, MB - BS – FRCS." Martin listed his titles slowly, emphasising every letter.

I have actually never ever witnessed before Martin making a fuss about his education, but it showed if need be, he could pull it off quite nicely.

It was really impressive to see the body language of the paramedic change. The smirk was wiped off his face, his shoulders had sunk a little and suddenly he seemed to have dwarfed in comparison to Martin, who seemed to have full control over the situation.

"Are you the author of…" The young medic stuttered, but couldn't finish, as Martin brusquely interrupted.

"Don't suck up." Then Martin pointed towards the patient lying on the floor. "You're not interested in him at all? Are you two dividing the work between you? He's doing the job, you're doing the talking?"

"No, no…of course not." The young man was obviously still baffled. Following Martin's order with a turn of his head, he finally asked. "How's he doing, John?"

"Brilliant job. First rate. Actually, given the basic equipment I don't think anyone could have done better. I've seen worse when done under proper circumstances." Then he patted the patient's arm. "You're really lucky to have had him around. Could have been nasty otherwise."

Then he turned towards his colleague. "Let's get him onto the stretcher and off we go."

He got up, then turned towards Martin. He was almost equally as tall as Martin, a good deal younger and seemed to be doing quite a bit of working out. He looked Martin straight in the eye, then abruptly put his arm forward to offer Martin a handshake.

"Thanks, Chief, for acting so quickly."

Martin reluctantly accepted the handshake and nodded.

"You mind if you're coming to hospital with us, just to confer with our A&E about what you've already done and so forth."

Martin's eyes narrowed. Then he looked towards me, for the first time during this whole incident. I slowly nodded.

"Right, but I haven't got all day. I've got to be back here at 5pm latest. Can you assure that?"

"I'll make it my personal responsibility." John nodded once quite firmly.

"Good. I need a moment." Martin declared.

"Okay, meanwhile we'll bring him into the ambulance."

Suddenly Mrs. Chilvers sprung to life. "Can I come with him? I need to be with him!" She broke free from my comforting hug and clung to John's arm, hindering him from doing his work.

"And you are?"

"I'm his wife. We're here for our silver wedding. Weekend treat from the children. Oh, it just went so wrong!"

"Calm down. He is perfectly stable, thanks to Dr. Ellingham. Sure you can hop into the ambulance, but first let us get him in there safely." The paramedic brushed the hysterical woman aside.

Being shaken off, she feverishly looked around and her eyes fell upon Martin. She practically jumped at him, throwing her arms around his neck. "I thank you, I thank you so very much! You saved my husband! Without you, he might…might have…" She couldn't continue, as she started sobbing into Martin's neck.

Martin was completely stiff, his face distorted in disgust. Over the years I had observed many times that Martin was never any good at handling gratitude, and this outburst quite obviously was too much for him. The sheer intensity of the wife's emotions made him squirm.

He slowly unfolded the woman's arms that were locked behind his neck, and determinedly guided them in front of him.

"Just doing my job." He muttered and turned to follow the stretcher. While passing me, he stopped, whispering, "Sorry about that. I'll pick you up at 5.30 sharp."

"Yes, Martin, don't worry about me."

"Sorry." Then he headed towards the exit, but was stopped again after a few steps.

The man, Martin had summoned to call the ambulance, was blocking his way.

"Oh no, you're not disappearing like that!" He tackled Martin.

"The ambulance can't wait forever. There's a patient to get to hospital quickly." Martin tried to squeeze past him.

"What are you going to do about my pen?"

"Your….what?"

"The one I gave you. The silver one. It was quite expensive. How and more importantly when are you going to compensate me for that?"

Martin looked at him and I could see fury in his eyes. "Out of my way." He said through clenched teeth.

"Not before I get my property back."

Martin pointed towards the floor. "It's all there. Just pick it up." Then his eyes narrowed. "And maybe the hospital will return the rest to you after they've replaced it with a proper tube. If you ask them nicely." He sneered.

"Oh no, you're not getting away like that. I'll report the theft, if you insist."

"Just get out of my way!" Martin now bellowed and finally managed to get past him.

As soon as he had turned his back to his opponent, he shouted after Martin.

"You probably don't know who you are talking to?!"

Martin astonished me again how quickly he could move. With one swift turn he was facing the big mouth again and towered over him.

"I know exactly who am I talking to. I'm talking to an idiot." Martin hissed and a gasp could be heard from the surrounding crowd. The man addressed in that way took on a shade of deep crimson, so that I was fearing his blood pressure would be boiling over pretty soon, "An idiot who spends a ridiculous sum for a simple writing tool, just because his ego needs this sort of status symbol." Martin continued unfazed.

"Excuse me!" The accused responded, trying hard to keep his temper.

"I excuse not!" Martin bellowed. "There is no excuse for you thinking that your silly toy is more valuable than a man's life!"

"That's outrageous!" Martin's opponent exploded. "No one's ever talked to me like this!"

"Then it's about time." Martin grunted. "And yes, Sir, I know who I am talking to, and you just verified it. I'm talking to a bumptious, egotistic simpleton."

Having finished his insult, Martin turned on his heels and followed the paramedics, who had put the poor man onto a stretcher and were about to leave the restaurant. It seemed as if the owner of the biro didn't exist for him anymore at all.

Mrs. Chilvers scurried after them and almost got hit by the door falling back into the lock after her husband had been carried through it.

The surrounding crowd, who had witnessed this scene, were still standing as if struck by lightening. A hotel clerk hurried towards the insulted man and spoke to him very urgently. I had no clue who this man was, but by the fuss they were making, he must have been Lord Muck himself.

To be continued…