CHAPTER FOURTEEN
'Mr. Blythe, Dr. Hagerman wishes to speak to you in his office.' The operating room's procedure was interrupted as Paul Smith, a young doctor who had recently been appointed to the head of the obstetrics department, called Gilbert from in the middle of his surgery assignment.
Gilbert glanced up from the operating table, where he had finished diligently stitching up a slit in his patient's abdomen. 'Yes, Paul,' he said. 'I'll just be a minute to clean up, sir.'
Gilbert placed his instruments on the operating trolley and washed his hands thoroughly in the sink situated in the corner of the room. Pulling his mask from his face, he strolled decisively toward the grand office situated on the fifth floor of the prestigious London hospital.
He had been working there for just over a month and a half, and already was considered, or so the medical board insisted, that he was one of the finest doctors that the organization had ever before had the honour of having as a member of staff.
'Sir, you wish to speak to me?' Gilbert appeared in the doorway of Dr Hagerman's office. The doctor in question was seated in his grand leather chair, evidently occupied in no particular activity at the time of Gilbert's arrival.
'Ah, yes, Dr Blythe. Please, sit down.'
Gilbert, who was in awe of the extravagancy of the office, seated himself in the great leather chair with a thud.
'Now, boy, you may know that I've been proud of your work here.' Dr Hagerman was an elderly man with a face not unlike that of a goat, complete with a monocle that perfected this goat-like appearance. His usually stern expression seemed less intense during Gilbert's visit; his fear of this rather terrifying old man was somewhat diminished, though he still thought his luck would have suited him better should Dr Hagerman have not wished to speak to him at all.
'Yes, sir,' Gilbert answered politely, not quite sure where the conversation was heading. A tumble of thoughts were swimming through his mind, and they all seemed fragmented and confused.
Dr Hagerman sighed and stretched, causing his leather chair to crackle slightly under the strain. 'I feel no need to beat around the bush,' he boomed suddenly, making Gilbert jump. 'You're a fine doctor, boy, and I want you to remain on staff at MacIntyre Hospital. Permanently.' He brought his palm down onto his desk with a deafening thud. 'What do you say, boy?'
Gilbert stammered. His ordinary confidence seemed to fail him, and cursed himself for not being able to compose himself and come across as the fine, professional doctor so many others considered him to be. 'Well – uh – sir – you see…' The words choked in his throat. Gilbert fingered the folded paper in his pocket. Until now, he hadn't considered the idea. Now, suddenly, after Dr Hagerman's unexpected announcement, he suddenly realised that perhaps he should take it into consideration, though he knew not what he would be getting into.
Gilbert took a deep breath. 'Thankyou very much, sir,' he said steadily, almost disbelieving his calmness. 'I appreciate the idea. But you see…I will be returning to – to Canada within the week. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to take you up on your offer, though if I were to stay in London, I would certainly say yes.' He swallowed, eyeing the elderly man. Neither moved; neither spoke. It was silent for a few minutes.
'All right, boy,' he said, 'it's up to you. But you must know I would have been quite pleased to make – er – certain allowances in the finance department. Perhaps five hundred pounds a month would make you reconsider my offer.' He grinned a horrible grin that exposed his yellowed teeth. Gilbert shuddered. He had only met this Dr Hagerman once before, and he had never liked him. Now he was certain. The sooner he could escape from his office, the better.
'Thankyou, sir, but no. I think I'll have to decline.'
Dr Hagerman raised his eyebrows in half hearted defeat. 'Suit yourself, lad. When are you finishing?'
'I think I might make this my last day, sir, if it suits you.'
Dr Hagerman stood and thumped Gilbert on the back. 'You get out of here, lad,' he said in a surprisingly kindly tone. 'Go back home. And don't let me catch you here again.'
Gilbert smiled. 'I won't, sir. I won't.'
As Gilbert strolled out of the office, he pulled off his operating gown for the last time. On a sudden whim of impulse, he pulled from his pocket the letter that had sat there, untouched, for the past week. Unfolding it, he reread the words scrawled in messy black ink, smudged from the folds and continued moisture.
'Okay, Dad,' he whispered, pocketing the paper. 'I'm coming home.'
------------------------
A/N For those who've seen Anne of Green Gables and the Continuing Story (which, by the way, I enjoyed yet disliked at the same time - it was far too dramatic for Anne), you might recognise the similarities between this Dr Hagermann and that scary old publisher - what was his name?
I based Dr Hagermann on him, at least in terms of looks and manner...thought you might be interested to know that.
Anyway, PLEASE review! Thanks.
------------------------
'Mr. Blythe, Dr. Hagerman wishes to speak to you in his office.' The operating room's procedure was interrupted as Paul Smith, a young doctor who had recently been appointed to the head of the obstetrics department, called Gilbert from in the middle of his surgery assignment.
Gilbert glanced up from the operating table, where he had finished diligently stitching up a slit in his patient's abdomen. 'Yes, Paul,' he said. 'I'll just be a minute to clean up, sir.'
Gilbert placed his instruments on the operating trolley and washed his hands thoroughly in the sink situated in the corner of the room. Pulling his mask from his face, he strolled decisively toward the grand office situated on the fifth floor of the prestigious London hospital.
He had been working there for just over a month and a half, and already was considered, or so the medical board insisted, that he was one of the finest doctors that the organization had ever before had the honour of having as a member of staff.
'Sir, you wish to speak to me?' Gilbert appeared in the doorway of Dr Hagerman's office. The doctor in question was seated in his grand leather chair, evidently occupied in no particular activity at the time of Gilbert's arrival.
'Ah, yes, Dr Blythe. Please, sit down.'
Gilbert, who was in awe of the extravagancy of the office, seated himself in the great leather chair with a thud.
'Now, boy, you may know that I've been proud of your work here.' Dr Hagerman was an elderly man with a face not unlike that of a goat, complete with a monocle that perfected this goat-like appearance. His usually stern expression seemed less intense during Gilbert's visit; his fear of this rather terrifying old man was somewhat diminished, though he still thought his luck would have suited him better should Dr Hagerman have not wished to speak to him at all.
'Yes, sir,' Gilbert answered politely, not quite sure where the conversation was heading. A tumble of thoughts were swimming through his mind, and they all seemed fragmented and confused.
Dr Hagerman sighed and stretched, causing his leather chair to crackle slightly under the strain. 'I feel no need to beat around the bush,' he boomed suddenly, making Gilbert jump. 'You're a fine doctor, boy, and I want you to remain on staff at MacIntyre Hospital. Permanently.' He brought his palm down onto his desk with a deafening thud. 'What do you say, boy?'
Gilbert stammered. His ordinary confidence seemed to fail him, and cursed himself for not being able to compose himself and come across as the fine, professional doctor so many others considered him to be. 'Well – uh – sir – you see…' The words choked in his throat. Gilbert fingered the folded paper in his pocket. Until now, he hadn't considered the idea. Now, suddenly, after Dr Hagerman's unexpected announcement, he suddenly realised that perhaps he should take it into consideration, though he knew not what he would be getting into.
Gilbert took a deep breath. 'Thankyou very much, sir,' he said steadily, almost disbelieving his calmness. 'I appreciate the idea. But you see…I will be returning to – to Canada within the week. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to take you up on your offer, though if I were to stay in London, I would certainly say yes.' He swallowed, eyeing the elderly man. Neither moved; neither spoke. It was silent for a few minutes.
'All right, boy,' he said, 'it's up to you. But you must know I would have been quite pleased to make – er – certain allowances in the finance department. Perhaps five hundred pounds a month would make you reconsider my offer.' He grinned a horrible grin that exposed his yellowed teeth. Gilbert shuddered. He had only met this Dr Hagerman once before, and he had never liked him. Now he was certain. The sooner he could escape from his office, the better.
'Thankyou, sir, but no. I think I'll have to decline.'
Dr Hagerman raised his eyebrows in half hearted defeat. 'Suit yourself, lad. When are you finishing?'
'I think I might make this my last day, sir, if it suits you.'
Dr Hagerman stood and thumped Gilbert on the back. 'You get out of here, lad,' he said in a surprisingly kindly tone. 'Go back home. And don't let me catch you here again.'
Gilbert smiled. 'I won't, sir. I won't.'
As Gilbert strolled out of the office, he pulled off his operating gown for the last time. On a sudden whim of impulse, he pulled from his pocket the letter that had sat there, untouched, for the past week. Unfolding it, he reread the words scrawled in messy black ink, smudged from the folds and continued moisture.
'Okay, Dad,' he whispered, pocketing the paper. 'I'm coming home.'
------------------------
A/N For those who've seen Anne of Green Gables and the Continuing Story (which, by the way, I enjoyed yet disliked at the same time - it was far too dramatic for Anne), you might recognise the similarities between this Dr Hagermann and that scary old publisher - what was his name?
I based Dr Hagermann on him, at least in terms of looks and manner...thought you might be interested to know that.
Anyway, PLEASE review! Thanks.
------------------------