CHAPTER SIX
"I have your medical report," Dr Kramer began the following afternoon, after a brief introduction. He was a tall, rather thin man with an open face and square jaw. He wore rimless glasses that did not obscure his eyes, which were a bright, clear blue. He had a firm handshake and as Athos took the seat he indicated, Kramer reached for a manilla file on his desk.
"Not digitised?" Athos replied, settling in. "How quaint."
"I prefer it," the doctor replied, leaning back in his leather chair and opening the file. "I have an eye condition, not helped by staring at a computer screen."
Athos frowned. "My apologies," he murmured. "I find myself a little short-tempered."
"Do you find yourself that way often?"
Athos sighed and looked toward the French windows that lined the wall to the right of Kramer's desk, giving a panoramic view of the ubiquitous mountain range in the distance. It seemed they were surrounded by mountains, but then, they were in Switzerland.
"You would have to ask my associates," Athos eventually replied.
"Associates?"
"The people I work with," Athos explained, patiently. "My fellow workers."
The doctor hummed. At least he didn't say, "There now, that wasn't so hard was it?" but he may as well have.
"And do you have my psychiatric report?" Athos asked, turning his full gaze on the thin bespectacled man behind the desk.
"Ah, now, that is digitised," the doctor said. "It is far too heavy otherwise."
Athos raised an eyebrow and, give the man his due, the doctor met his gaze evenly.
Kramer smiled.
Finally, Athos tilted his head. "Touché," he murmured.
"In five days time you will have the place practically to yourselves. Just five days until the renovations take place in the Eastern wing," Dr Kramer said, "But there will be a skeleton staff and I will continue to work. You are free to leave the grounds if you wish, but there should be minimal disruption."
"No-one wants to pay to be disturbed by workmen," Athos agreed.
"Quite. And then we return to normal," Kramer smiled.
"That depends on your concept of normal," Athos replied.
"Yes, I suppose it does," Kramer smiled, placing the open file gently on his desk. "Now, would you like coffee?"
"If you have nothing stronger," Athos replied, tersely.
"I do, as a matter of fact. And, since you are here for the benefit of your lungs, and not your liver, I can offer you wine. In fact, we have our own vineyard down in the valley. Perhaps we can offer you a tour when you have fully settled in."
"The day is not a complete loss," Athos responded, wryly, as Kramer stood and moved to a cupboard at the far side of his office. Opening the door, Athos saw that there were four bottles laid in an integral rack on the top shelf.
"I hope not. Do you prefer red or white?" Kramer asked, over his shoulder.
"Red will be fine," Athos replied, watching as the doctor proceeded to expertly extract the cork.
"Excellent choice," Dr Kramer smiled, as he poured two glasses, and returned to his desk.
"It's a very good vintage," he said, placing the glasses before them, before leaning forward to look at the papers within the file.
"Now, if I may," he said. "Your mission. What went wrong exactly?"
/
Later that afternoon:
"May I call you Aramis?"
Aramis took a seat, as offered and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course," the other Musketeer replied, smiling brightly, though Dr Kramer detected an air of caution.
"Your caution is understandable," he said, as he watched Aramis settle, looking around the room as he did so, before his brown eyes settled on him.
Aramis wasn't aware he was being cautious, though this man was trained to see what others may not. And so he smiled once more, "I'm an open book," he said, spreading his hands.
"And your associate, Ms de la Fere …"
"Athos," Aramis interrupted. "And, he is my friend," he added.
"Of course, my apologies," Kramer replied, briefly jotting a note on the file page in front of him, before looking up.
"Not such an open book," Aramis eventually conceded, holding Kramer's gaze. Kramer closed the file, aware it was a little too soon to touch an obvious nerve.
"Do you enjoy your work, Aramis?" he asked, taking off his glasses and polishing them with a pristine handkerchief pulled from his pocket.
"Mostly," Aramis replied, watching the man meticulously work on his glasses, before he resited them carefully on the bridge of his nose and folded up his handkerchief. "It has its moments," he added, falling into the silence that Kramer had created.
"Yes, I understand it must," the doctor said. "Would you care for anything? Tea, coffee?" he added, changing the subject.
"No, thank you," Aramis replied, wondering what was coming next.
"So, Aramis," Kramer smiled, peering at him, his hands folded in his lap. "Tell me about your mission," he said, quietly.
/
"Have you met Dr Kramer?" Aramis asked, at dinner that evening, wondering tentatively if Athos had kept his appointment.
"Yes,"Athos replied, as he shook the thick linen napkin out and placed it carefully on his lap.
Aramis smiled at Athos's impeccable manners. "He seems ok?" he returned, hurriedly. "I wasn't sure about it at first, when the Captain said we had to see him as part of our recuperation. I only agreed because it is a beautiful place and I haven't seen the mountains for a long time. And don't say, "If you've seen one mountain, you've seen them all, because that's just not true."
Athos only half listened as Aramis prattled on, only stopping when Athos dropped his knife on the floor. He sat as still as a statue, staring at the table until Aramis pushed back his chair and picked it up, placing it at the corner of the table as a Restaurant assistant appeared with a replacement, taking the other one away.
"Anyway, it's nice to have someone to talk to," Aramis said, softly, peering at him.
"What?" Athos said, raising his eyes to look at Aramis.
"What's wrong, Athos?"
I couldn't call you friend, Athos thought. He'd been thinking that since he had left Kramer's office.
"Nothing. This place, I suppose."
Aramis stretched out his hand and placed it gently on his forearm. "It's only three weeks," he said, squeezing his arm.
The Restaurant attendant returned with a bottle of red wine and placed it on the table, deftly turning the glasses over before giving them a quick smile and hurrying away. Aramis thought she must see all manner of human emotions, working here.
"Two," Athos replied.
"I think three weeks may help us more, Athos. I think I like Kramer."
"You perhaps have more to unburden than I," Athos replied. He regretted it immediately, as Aramis's face changed, briefly becoming more closed off, before relaxing again.
"Perhaps I do," he smiled, though there was no brightness in it.
Athos busied himself pouring two glasses of wine, but did not reply. He reached for the menu and read it without taking it in, until Aramis gently relieved him of it.
"I think we both need a steak," he said. "And more of this wine."
Athos raised the glass of wine to his lips and nodded. That seemed enough for Aramis, as he turned to catch the waitress's eye.
Whatever ailed Athos, he would do his best to help his friend.
/
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