Surgeon at Sea

Chapter Fifteen

I was called from my shower at eight the next evening to put half a dozen stitches in the forehead of a fireman who had fallen down the stokehold ladder. For this reason I was the only officer who arrived on deck to greet the guests sober. Captain Hogg's orders had been punctiliously obeyed, except for the one impounding the ship's supply of liquor; since tea-time Whimble had been poking his head in his locker like a nervous ostrich in a perilous desert, in the Chief Engineer's cabin Scots accents rawed under the sting of neat whisky, Hornbeam and the Mates poured gin from the water-bottles above their basins, and Captain Hogg himself had been entertaining Mr. Montmorency and his sleek Argentine wife.

The boatdeck of the Lotus looked surprisingly attractive. Fairy-lights shone on the fresh white chalk spread over the scrubbed deck, ensigns and signal flags lined the rails and obliterated the stark Frigorifico, and on the long tables garnished with blazing Argentine flowers glass and linen fell pleasingly and promisingly on the eye. The band-three Argentines with piano, guitar, and drums was seriously tuning up behind the ensign of the Commonwealth of Australia. At the head of the gangway, which was enlivened with bunting and a string of bulbs, a quartermaster stood nervously in white matelot's rig; stewards in shining jackets stood with silver trays and serviettes between the fresh-painted ventilators; behind the bar was Easter, with an expression of disarming honesty on his face that suggested a bishop going through the Dover customs with two bottles of brandy in his gyp.

Besides the quartermaster the ship's officers-in clean white number tens, white shoes, correct epaulettes, collar fully buttoned up-stood greeting the guests with great charm and affability. To me it seemed that the decorum of my shipmates had a certain brittleness about it, a nervous overemphasis. This was noticeable in the way the Chief Engineer tenaciously kissed the hands of the ladies; the hesitation with which Whimble brought a match to a guest's cigarette; Hornbeam's roar of laughter; Trail, openmouthed, mentally stripping every woman under forty stepping off the gangway; and the abandon with which Captain Hogg was pinching Mrs. Montmorency's bottom.

I felt a tug at my elbow. It was Easter leaning across the bar, holding out a long glass of brownish fluid.

'Best respects, Doctor,' he said hoarsely. 'This is the stuff I'm making up for me and my mates.'

'What is it?'

'Little cocktail I invented on the Western run. I calls it "Fire Alarm." '

'Thank you, Easter. I fancy I have some leeway to make up.'

The guests seemed to be shippers and senior Fathom Line employees who knew each other and Mr. Montmorency well, and were therefore relieved of the cumbrance of social chatter while getting down to the free drinks and lobster patties. As I was not in uniform no one bothered to talk to me, and I was content to stay in the shade of a ventilator by the bar, smoke the ship's cigarettes, drink Fire Alarms, and leave the entertaining to my companions.

'Chй, un cigarillo por favor.'

A slim brunette with incandescent eyes and teeth stood in front of me.

'I beg your pardon?'

'Oh, don't you speak Spanish? I only want a cigarette.'

I handed her one from my own tin.

'Thanks. You work in the meat-works too, do you?'

I was hurt. The Lotus may have been a rusting old-fashioned tramp, but that night I was proud of her.

'Not a bit. I'm one of the officers.'

'What of this old tub? You look too respectable. Why aren't you dressed up?'

'I am the doctor,' I explained stiffly.

Her eyes instantly shone brighter. 'Well, what do you know? I get the most crippling pain in my back.'

I saw at once that I had committed a social error. During my spell as a general practitioner I had learned that members of the public meeting a doctor socially believe they can entertain him only by briskly trotting out an account of their illnesses. When introduced to the bank manager they do not immediately start talking about their overdrafts, and on shaking hands with the local J.P. they are not compelled to discuss the number of times they have been summonsed. But they firmly hold the idea that the doctor can be diverted for half-hours at a time by details of their symptoms, or even those of far-away relatives and dead acquaintances.

'It sort of catches me round here,' she continued, twining her arm behind her and pushing her sharp bosom forward. 'Whenever I twist round suddenly-Ouch! See what I mean? I've been to doctors all over the world-London, Paris, New York, here in B.A. They never did me a bit of good, though. I still had my pain. Sometimes I woke up in the night and screamed.'

'Very distressing for you, I'm sure.'

'Oh, I began to lose faith in doctors. You don't mind my saying so, do you?'

'Not a bit. Have a Fire Alarm.'

'What is it?'

'It's a drink. Very good for backache.'

She giggled. 'Well, then I went to an osteopath in Wimpole Street-he was sweet. He told me I had a displaced spine. What do you think? He slipped it back again, like shutting a door. There!'

'I think that…'

'I only used to get it after that when it rained. Why do you think that was? And then I was playing tennis out at the Hurlingham Club last month, when Bingo! I…'

'May I introduce you to our Third Officer?' I interrupted. 'You will find him very charming.'

For the past few seconds Trail had been staring at my companion with his mouth open. He jumped at my remark so much he spilt his drink on the deck; then he stepped forward with the expression of a hungry deckhand going in for his Sunday dinner.

'Mr. Trail,' I said, 'Miss…?'

'Ella Robinson.'

'Mr. Trail is our most popular officer,' I whispered to her. 'The Captain thinks highly of him. But if I may speak as a shipmate, he is a little shy and needs encouragement. Enjoying the dance, Three-o?'

'Have another drink,' Trail said thickly.

'I think he's cute,' Miss Robinson decided, flashing him a swift glance of appraisal. I had been treating his spots since we left Santos, and in his clean white jacket and painstakingly Brylcreemed hair he looked as presentable as an Ian Hay subby.

'Har!' Trail said. 'How about a dance?'

'Mmm! I've never danced with a sailor before! Be a sweetie and hold my glass, Doctor.'

Grinning weakly, Trail drew her on to the chalked square of deck and began dancing with the spirit that nightly won him hearts in Reese's dance hall in Liverpool. I contentedly took another Fire Alarm from Easter and leant back on my ventilator. After the night at the Saratoga anyone so pressingly feminine as Miss Robinson was too much for me.

When the music stopped the couple came back to my corner of the deck. Both of them were flushed and breathless.

'You're a swell dancer,' Miss Robinson said to Trail, giving him a hot glance of admiration.

'Am I really?' he asked eagerly. 'Go on!'

'Yes, I mean it. Not like most Englishmen out here. When I dance with you I sure know I'm dancing.'

'Have another Fire Alarm,' I said, signalling to Easter.

'Do you dance, Doctor?' she asked.

'Definitely no. I come from a family with very strong views on the subject.'

'How amusing! Do you know, my pain's coming back. Look!' She turned round. 'Run your hand down my spine. That's right-just there! Ooo! Exquisitely painful! What do you think I ought to do about it?'

'I should go and see a doctor.'

She laughed playfully. 'Gee, you're funny! You're the nicest doctor I've ever met.'

'Thank you. Down the hatch, now.'

We drank our Fire Alarms, and the band began to play again.

'Let's dance,' she said to Trail.

'Not for a minute,' he said. 'Let me show you the steering gear.'

'What on earth should I want to see the steering gear for?'

'It looks most attractive in the moonlight,' I added encouragingly. 'Not many people are privileged to see it. Only Mr. Trail and the Captain have the key.'

'C'mon,' Trail said. He gave her a look that would have terrified the heart out of any girl in England and strode off purposefully with her, hand in hand, towards the steel nooks and shadows of the stern. I moved to the rail, leant over the strip of dirty, oil-coated water between the Lotus and the quay, and exchanged glances with the two sour Argentine policemen standing at the foot of the gangway. The night was hot, and the awnings prevented ventilation. Shortly the ship's officers unhooked their high collars and wiped their foreheads with coloured handkerchiefs, and sweat began to run down the faces of the guests.

No one bothered me, so I sipped my way through my drink and thought guiltily about England. I was interrupted by 'A hundred pipers an' a" from the corner where the band had been playing. It was almost eleven-thirty and the engine-room had by then taken over the party for themselves. The engineers were lolling round the piano with an air of genial possessiveness towards everything they could see, and McDougall was stripped to the waist, his dragon, hearts, and sailing ship glistening among the grey tufts of hair that sprouted from his thorax and shoulders like bracken on a Highland hillside. Singing with them was Captain Hogg, drunk to the point of harmlessness, and the Montmorency's. The music was provided by Easter, who was playing the piano in the style of Chico Marx.

With a flourish Easter finished his piece, rose to his feet, and announced solemnly, 'Ladies and Gentlemen, for my next number to-night I shall give you my rendering of the famous old English ballad "The Lily of Laguna." Jolly good luck to you, gentlemen, jolly good luck!' He sat down heavily and began the tune, to which most of the audience sang the words of 'Annie Laurie.' McDougall then shouted it was midnight by ship's time as the clocks were to be advanced half an hour, and broke into Auld Lang Syne. This was taken up by the company, and I was swept into a chain of crossed hands. McDougall sang with his eyes tightly shut, swaying between a pair of other Scots; suddenly he stopped, shouted 'Kiss all the lasses!' and dived towards Mrs. Montmorency. He grasped her in his moist naked arms and kissed her hotly until he was elbowed out of the way by Macpherson, McPhail, and Macintosh. These were followed by Captain Hogg, Easter, Whimble, one of the Argentine policemen from the dock, the Quartermaster, Hornbeam, and myself. Then everyone sang Auld Lang Syne all over again.

At the end of the verse Captain Hogg shouted 'Eight bells! Quartermaster, ring eight bells! Midnight, ship's time!' Mrs. Montmorency instantly threw her arms open, and was kissed by McDougall, Macpherson, Captain Hogg, McDougall again, myself, Easter, Hornbeam, McDougall once again, Macpherson, McPhail, and McDougall. She appeared to enjoy these unstinted tributes thoroughly, though Mr. Montmorency, who stood fidgeting beside her, and moved during her fourth embrace with McDougall, to murmur nervously, 'Steady on Maria! I say, steady on, old girl!' We sang Auld Lang Syne and kissed Maria Montmorency several times, as a member of the circle recalled that it was midnight in Greenwich, Glasgow, Greenock, or some other point of overwhelming importance to himself. Finally her husband grabbed her by the arm and led her to the gangway while everyone cheered and Easter played 'Sons of the Brave.'

The engineers and Hornbeam then decided to visit the Taxi-Dance on the other side of the dock.

'Come on, Doc,' Hornbeam urged. 'It's only over the ferry. We can get there in ten minutes.'

'I thought you hadn't any money?'

'I flogged some whisky to the policeman. It's a cheap joint-the girls will darn your socks as well for twenty pesos.'

I shook my head. 'No thanks. I've got into enough trouble in B.A. already. Besides, I'm tired. I'm turning in.'

I left my shipmates, who were already on the gangway with bottles sticking out of the pockets of their white ducks. I was tired and muzzy. Easter's Fire Alarms had an effect like anaesthetic ether, producing a disturbing numbness and inco-ordination of the extremities; all I wanted was to lie on my bunk, turn on the forced draught, and sink on to the soft foam that overlies the dark cool liquor of unconsciousness. Yawning, I unhooked my cabin jalousie, pushed the curtain aside, and turned on the light. On the deck was Trail, asleep; two half-empty whisky bottles and some broken glasses were on the desk; lying on my bunk, her skirt round her waist and snoring heavily, was Ella.

I began with an attempt to resuscitate Trail by throwing the remains of my drinking water over him. From this it was apparent that he was in a state of deep surgical anaesthesia, and I could have cut a leg off without his noticing it. While I was shaking him and slapping his face I heard a deep groan from the bunk, and noticed that Ella was wearily moving her arm. I dropped Trail and began flicking her face with the end of a towel. She shook her head and muttered something.

'Ella! Ella!' I called. 'Wake up! Come on-for God's sake, woman! What's that?'

I bent my ear close to her.

Wanna be sick,' she said.

'Oh, lord!' I lay the towel over her, poised my empty hot-water can on her bosom, and hurried down to the hospital to find some sal volatile.

When I came back she was sitting on the edge of the bunk, her head held heavily in her hands, her long black hair scattered uncaringly over her shoulders and forehead, her eyes closed, and her face white. She looked like a patient at the end of a long operation.

'Here! Ella! Drink this,' I said cheerfully.

She pushed me away clumsily.

'Don't wan' another drink.'

'This isn't drink-it's medicine. Make you feel better, see? Jolly good stuff. Look! I'm having some myself.'

'Wanna go home.'

'Yes, I know. But drink this first. It's something special.'

'For Chrissake take me home. For Chrissake.'

'Oh, all right then. Where do you live?' There was a pause. She slowly shook her head.

'Dunno.'

I looked hopefully at Trail, but he seemed unlikely to take part in any conversation before noon the following day.

'Ella,' I said gently. 'Think please. Where do you live? Haven't you got a phone number?'

Wanna go to bed.' She started to roll back on my bunk, but I caught her.

'No, you can't go to sleep,' I told her firmly. 'There'll be hell to pay if I don't get you out of my cabin and off this ship. Now try and remember where you live. The street will do.'

I spotted her handbag wedged down the side of the bunk, opened it, and found one of her visiting cards. It bore an address in the Palermo district, which I thought was somewhere on the other side of Buenos Aires.

'All right,' I said, slipping my arm under her shoulders. 'We're going for a walk.'

The gangway quartermaster gave me a grin.

'Lovely grub, eh, Doctor?' he said. He winked and smacked his lips, in case I had missed the point of his remark.

'Benson,' I said sternly. 'I need about two hundred pesos. I should be obliged if you would lend it to me, if you have it. I see no prospect of repaying you until we return home, but if you refuse I shall give you hell should you happen to fall sick on the voyage back. Thank you.'

We stumbled down the gangway together, Ella grasping my collar and groaning. After picking our way over the railway lines and bollards on the quay we reached the little office of the dock police by the gate. I gave the policeman ten pesos and asked him to call a taxi; twenty minutes later we were bumping along the dirty road beside the Frigorifico, Ella already asleep and snoring on my shoulder.

The cab stopped outside a tall block of flats several miles from the ship. I gave Ella a shake, and she woke up with a start.

'You're home,' I said. 'End of the line.'

'Oh God, I feel horrible.'

'So do I.'

'Take me in…Please!'

'Can't you make it yourself?'

She shook her head.

'Oh, all right then.'

I helped her out of the cab, making signs to the driver to wait. We went into a small hall, which contained a staircase and an automatic lift. As I opened the lift doors Ella leant heavily on my shoulder and burst into tears.

She told me, through sobs, she lived in number seventeen, on the third floor; the key was in her handbag. I took her up to her own door and opened it. At that moment her knees gave way. She began to slide slowly down the doorpost.

'The room opposite,' she muttered. 'For God's sake help me in.'

I supported her across the hallway and into the room opposite the flat door. I turned on the light with my free hand, and found I was in her bedroom.

'Put your arm round my neck,' I commanded. She obeyed, and I lifted her up, laying her on the bed heavily.

'All right,' I said. 'You can unclasp my neck now.'

I heard a noise behind me and turned. Standing in the doorway was a tall, stern, greying gentleman with a stiff moustache and a military eye, dressed in a yellow silk dressing-gown. Behind him was a timid, sandy, becrackered woman in a faded housecoat.

'I've a damn good mind to horsewhip you,' the grey gentleman said decisively.

Now look here, I say…' I began.

'I might tell you I consider you an unmitigated cad. I've no idea what your upbringing is, but I don't imagine it's very savoury. If I were a few years younger I'd give you a good hiding with my bare fists. A young puppy like you needs teaching a good lesson.'

'Be careful, Charles,' the woman said nervously. 'You know what you did to the Rolleston boy.'

Charles twitched his muscles under his dressing-gown. Ella seemed to have Bulldog Drummond for a father.

'I should never have let her go on that damn ship,' he said bitterly. 'I believed at least the officers would be gentlemen. I was mistaken.'

'Mind your temper, Charles,' the woman added timidly, covering her eyes with her hands.

Now, look here,' I said angrily. 'I assure you I have had nothing to do with your daughter…'

Charles snorted. 'Pray, how do you explain that lipstick all over your shirt? A disgusting exhibition! By God, I'm not at all certain I shan't horsewhip you after all…'

'Charles, Charles!'

'You have got quite the wrong end of the stick..

Charles by now had time to look at me carefully and find I was much smaller than he was. He advanced, going red in the face.

'Put them up, you young hound!' he growled.

There was nothing for it. I threw one of Ella's pillows at him, sidestepped quickly, and dashed for the door. I shot into the lift, leaped for the taxi like a survivor grasping for a lifeboat, and drove back to the ship, looking nervously through the back window at every turn for cars bearing greying gentlemen in silk dressing-gowns, who were anxious to relieve the strangling monotony of Buenos Aires' social life by avenging the honour of their daughters. And when I got back I found Trail had recovered sufficiently to climb into my bunk.